Tuesday, October 23, 2012


This basically sums up my whole life. This is everything I believe in, and everything that I strive to be. It's the model by which I live. It's simple and perfect.

Desiderata is Latin for "desired things".



Go placidly amid the noise and haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible without surrender be on good terms with all persons.
Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even the dull and ignorant; they too have their story.
Avoid loud and aggressive persons, they are vexations to the spirit.
If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain and bitter;
for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans.
Keep interested in your career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.
Exercise caution in your business affairs; for the world is full of trickery.
But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals;
and everywhere life is full of heroism.

Be yourself.
Especially, do not feign affection.
Neither be critical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment it is as perennial as the grass.

Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.
Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with imaginings.
Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness. Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself.

You are a child of the universe, no less than the trees and the stars;
you have a right to be here.
And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should.

Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be,
and whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life keep peace with your soul.
With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be careful. Strive to be happy.

-Max Ehrmann

Wednesday, October 17, 2012

Change (poem)

I took a walk today, and I met someone along the way.

She was wearing a long white dress, no shoes, with a bright yellow flower in her hair.
We walked awhile, wending our way leisurely down the path as the wind blew warm laughter through the leaves and the light danced with shadow, waltzing in circles around our feet.

We spoke no words.
Everything we needed to say passed between us in heartbeats and the crunch of pebbles beneath our feet.

As we walked along, the trees began to change. The sunlight grew thin and the leaves began their dying dance toward the expectant earth.

I looked over at her, but she had changed too. She was now striking in a black dress, with lips painted deep crimson and a black hat that dipped down and covered her eyes.

The path became uneasy now. The air grew colder, the surroundings increasingly barren until all I could see were tree skeletons and the unspoken words my breath left like crystals on the frigid air.

I looked back again, but she was gone.
Nothing left but her name, the word, left like a faint whisper of gold dust in the air.