It's been kind of a tough week for me. Just ordinary stuff: too much work, lack of sleep, a messy house. It's easy to get caught up in complaining and feeling sorry for myself. I came across one of my favorite poems tonight that helped me realize that life is meant to be lived fully. It's supposed to wear us out and beat us up. That's a sign of true life.
True Joy of Life
This is the true joy of life.
The being used for a purpose
Recognized by yourself as a mighty one.
The being a force of nature
Instead of a feverish, selfish
Little clod of ailments and grievances
Complaining that the world will not
Devote itself to making you happy.
I am of the opinion that my life
Belongs to the whole community
And as long as I live,
It is my privilege to do for it
Whatever I can.
I want to be thoroughly
Used up when I die,
For the harder I work the more I live.
I rejoice in life for its own sake.
Life is no brief candle to me.
It is a sort of splendid torch
Which I've got hold of
For the moment
And I want to make it burn
As brightly as possible before
Handling it on to future generations.
~ George Bernard Shaw
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