Do It Anyway – Mother Teresa

I offer the following words from Mother Teresa as a source of inspiration in difficult moments-

for children in Calcutta:

              People are often unreasonable, irrational, and self-centered.  Forgive them anyway.

            If you are kind, people may accuse you of selfish, ulterior motives.  Be kind anyway.

            If you are successful, you will win some unfaithful friends and some genuine enemies.  Succeed anyway.

           If you are honest and sincere people may deceive you.  Be honest and sincere anyway.

            What you spend years creating, others could destroy overnight.  Create anyway.

            If you find serenity and happiness, some may be jealous.  Be happy anyway.

            The good you do today, will often be forgotten.  Do good anyway.

         Give the best you have, and it will never be enough.  Give your best anyway.

         In the final analysis, it is between you and God.  It was never between you and them anyway.

-this version is credited to Mother Teresa. It is thought to have been based on The Paradoxical Commandments by Dr. Kent Keith.

 

You might also enjoy: A Child’s Smile , If

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll,
I am the master of my fate,
I am the captain of my soul.

BY WILLIAM ERNEST HENLEY, 1875

One of two poems I turn to for inspiration, (the other is “If” by Rudyard Kipling)

Here’s a link to a powerful reading by Morgan Freeman.

 

If, by Rudyard Kipling

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, 1895

Source: A Choice of Kipling’s Verse (1943)

When I’m down and feeling sorry for myself, “If” is one of the poems I return to for inspiration. Here are YouTube links to great readings of this poem, the first  by Holly Musgrove, the second by Sir Michael Caine-

Insert video link  to Holly Musgrove 

Insert video link to Sir Michael Caine

Life is a gift and a responsibility. Let’s make the most of it!

Tio Stib

My Dementia Diary 63 – Awkwardness

On our daily walks, she greets everyone with a smile and “good morning!” She is even more exuberant with children and babies in strollers, stooping to wave at them and babble excitedly in a combination of Spanish, English, and otherwise unintelligible, but happy,  sounds. 

The response is mixed. Most return the exuberant greetings, but some respond with silence. I can hear their minds whirring.

“Who is this crazy woman?”

I’m sure the awkwardness is not helped by my presence nearby, a blind guy poking about with a white cane.

Although most kids are understandably shy when confronted by strangers, my wife’s wholehearted delight in meting them usually melts their fears away and she often ends up slapping hands with  high fives before we go our separate ways.

And I’m reminded to let go any fears of embarrassment and simply enjoy life in the company of an angel.

tio stib

You might also enjoy: My Dementia Diary 53 – The Walk to Paradise Garden, My Dementia Diary

 

My Dementia Diary 55 – Socially Starving

I’m with my wife 24/7, all day, every day, all the time. I never paid any attention to our relationship reality when her mind was healthy and I could see. Being together was a constant treat, always new adventures to share, things to do together. 

And, we could talk, share ideas, questions, and breathe together in awe at a stunning sunset.

As much as we enjoyed each other, we were always organizing get-togethers with family and friends. We could drive, so making connections was easy. We were both functional, making shared meals with others  a simple thing to do at our place.

For a short time, our life was a wonderful balance of precious times together and special moments with others.

Such times are past. Our range of life options has collapsed. My wife’s dementia and my blindness have shrunk our social activities significantly. We no longer drive, so getting out to visit folks beyond our walking radius doesn’t happens unless someone comes for us. This occurs less and less, as I suppose, for most, that socializing with a demented woman and a blind guy is, at best, awkward.

Fortunately, my wife enjoys video calls with our kids, which they are considerate enough to make often. But, as any sort of intellectual, rational conversation is no longer possible with my wife, I find myself craving social contact.

Even though we rarely meet anyone at our local coffeehouse, we visit regularly just so I can hear the drone of other human voices, be near conversations, get vicarious pleasure from being in the middle of people living regular lives.

Slowly, I’m socially starving.

tio stib

You might also enjoy: My Dementia Diary 45 – A Different River, My Dementia Diary

 

Weeding Words

what makes a word a weed?

makes me suddenly
yank it out
toss it from my poetic garden

I must admit it’s never logic
nothing rational
just pure and perfect whim

it sounds odd
it looks strange
it simply doesn’t fit
it’s a weed
goodbye

and so, to fill the gaping hole
I plant another seed
and watch new life erupt

listen
to how it gabs with neighbors

hope
that this communion of sound and sight and meaning
will sate the artist’s appetite for perfectio

tio stib

You might also enjoy: My Garden of Words, Life Journey Poems & Prose

Jumping Off

leaning out the open door
time roars by
it’s gone
no more
I wonder what my life might be
had I the courage to jump free

behind me in the train’s cocoon
dreams fly off to distant moons
faces glued to heartless screens
joyless stares and silent screams

and so we travel every day
secure and safe or so we say
the child no longer comes to play
the status quo will have its way

will I stay an untold story
remain in hopeless purgatory
pretending that I care no more
soul crying for its need to soar

then I jumped off into space
the unknown flying in my face
It’s not clear where I will land
no matter
I am free again

tio stib

2016, 2017, 2019

You might also enjoy: Life is Like a Broken Egg, Paddling a Submarine vs. Living an Authentic Life.