What really matters

Posted: November 28, 2012 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , , , , , ,

That is the question isn’t it? What really matters? Or does this really matter? It is Wednesday, for many of this it is the middle of the work week, and for others who work unconventional schedules it could be the beginning or end of the work week and for the lucky retirees it is just another day off, but no matter your station in life, you can be assured that some “fires” will pop up. Disaster will strike and you may be expected to act as others do and lose your head in the nonsense. I implore you Don’t do it. Take some advice from a really great writer and the author of a poem I was made by the Cleveland public School system and my mom to memorize

If

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or, being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same:.
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings,
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: “Hold on!”

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

Rudyard Kipling
 
This post is by no means an analysis of the poem, I do not have the expertise to do that simply a request that on today, wether it be hump day, the beginning , end or just any old day that we try our best to keep in mind what matters most and not let the minutia ruin that.
 
peace
john3c
 
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