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