Before success comes in any man's life, he's sure to meet with much temporary defeat and, perhaps some failures. When defeat overtakes a man, the easiest and the most logical thing to do is to quit. That's exactly what the majority of men do.
Effort only fully releases its reward after a person refuses to quit.
Patience, persistence and perspiration make an unbeatable combination for success.
Fears are nothing more than a state of mind.
(All quotes from Napoleon Hill.)
I was only planning to spend about an hour on my websites this morning, but I wound up spending about three or four. At first, I was a little disappointed in myself. My websites are, afterall, not as important as my client work or my company's work, right?
Then I reconsidered. My websites are the gateway to me, my work, my company, and all of my projects. If these websites do not look polished, professional, and regularly updated, then where can I refer potential clients, customers, authors, and other professional connections?
People always talk about their heroes. I've seen this everywhere... TV, books, magazines, newspapers, high school assignments, college assignments, and wherever else.
What happens to those of us who have no heroes?
I mean, I have people I admire and respect for their work, but I have never in my life had a hero. Not after the point of being 7 or 8 and imitating Sheera.
Whenever anyone asked me who my hero was, I would always tell them that I am my own hero. Because I don't want to be somebody else. I want to be me, strong and beautiful and powerful, and that's what I want.
Granted I don't always feel strong and beautiful and powerful, but who cares? I'm sure "heroes" have their bad days, too.
The point is, why does everyone have to have a hero?
Why can't they just gather their own courage instead of borrowing it from someone else?
This poem came to mind today while I was editing entries for the first Soul Vomit anthology. I hope you enjoy it!
On the outside, I smile.
I have a good time...
And most of the time,
On the inside, I cry.
I feel hopeless and afraid...
And most of the time,
On the outside, I sing.
I am strong,
And most of the time,
On the inside, I mourn.
I cage anger and fear...
And most of the time,
On the outside, I dance.
I focus on the pieces
That haven't been broken.
And you know what?
Most of the time,
My brain and chest felt like this today.
There are all kinds of reasons I could psycho-analyze myself with as far as why that pesky overwhelmed feeling takes hold and tries to anchor me to laziness in a day. Feeling overwhelmed sucks. Though I try to re-focus and regain my balance, it is so easy to let those feelings of stress and being overwhelmed grab hold of your thoughts again and pull you back down into their pit.
Fortunately for me, I've never been known to do things the easy way =). As a matter of fact, I tend to choose the most difficult, challenging, and sometimes stupid directions in my life, and I know it.
[Note: This is the first poem I've written in literally years, so pardon any imperfections. It stems from a place of inspired insight and first-hand observation.]
Personality like an anchor;
That soul will latch on to you
and drag you down into
the murky depths of
its own miserable existence.
Aura like a black hole;
Spreading sadness and
a moping lethargy
further and further into
Attitude like a spoiled victim;
That soul will beg for help
and, when given,
nothing is ever good enough
and nothing is ever right.
Face like a succubus;
So pretty on the outside
but all it wants is to
bleed you dry
and disappear into the night.
Heart like a bitter old hag;
Where once there was goodness
there lies only bitter hatred
and high expectations for
the world to serve up happiness...
... when the only one who
could ever provide that
is the very same old, bitter hag.
Faced with the choice between romantic companionship or sanity, I will choose my own sanity every time. Kids will do that to you... you have a child and suddenly your emotional wants don't mean much anymore. There's a big difference between a want and a need, and a want is not nearly as important as the need to take care of and raise your family.
That's all well and good... but it's easier said than done, especially when you trust someone to tell you the truth and they start calling you crazy. You know in your mind that you're not, that it's just something hurtful they want to say instead of addressing the real issues... but then you end up questioning yourself. Even if the trust in that person has died, you still end up questioning your sanity, which can be a major distraction. This is why I'm writing it down.
Thinking can be dangerous, especially when you're fresh out of a break-up and start nostalgically remembering your life 10 years before (... ok, ok. 11 years).
When I was 17 (I still think of that as one of my favorite ages), I was close friends with a man named... we'll call him Joe. He wasn't too much to look at... kind of short compared to my 5' almost 10" and skinny. He did the best impression of Mr. Burns from The Simpsons: "Eggscellent...."
Over the years, he keeps creeping slowly into my thoughts, and I'm not sure exactly why. Some of my friends remember him, while others don't... it doesn't really matter. What mattered was that one single decision - one single choice - could've led me down a path 100% different from the one I walk now.
Relationships are hard.
For someone like me, relationships have never lasted... until him. He was someone I was happy with for two years - an eternity that felt like minutes (I've never been good at staying the same, so the longest "happy" relationship before him was only 4 months) - and am now so frustrated with that it's ridiculous. But frustration is stupid.... it's an angry emotion and won't breed anything but more anger and resentment. So I really need to think about this question:
What do I really want?
I traveled to another planet in my dreams last night and wanted to write about this before I immerse myself in editing work because it was so weird. And interesting.
As some of you guys may already know, I have some of the weirdest dreams ever. Last night was no exception - I dreamed that we had to move to another planet because the earth was on a collision course with a star, so if we stayed, we would completely fry along with the planet.
Fun fact about this planet: I'd been there before in a different dream to visit someone who was involved in my adoption. In that dream, we were there for a week to visit and hang out.
The planet has small, bouncing meteorites that fall to its surface and then bounce back up into the atmosphere. I know. Weird and very impossible... but imagine yourself seeing a ball flying toward you from what looks like outer space only for it to bounce harmlessly and fly back up. Just the fact that it doesn't hurt the planet's surface is a huge relief after noticing how close it is!
My oldest daughter came out of her room after 11:00pm and informed me that she couldn't sleep. She's very excitable, so she immediately jumped into letting me know that there was a thunder storm going on outside, too.
I immediately got excited because I love thunder storms, as long as they don't carry a threat of tornadoes with them. In WA State, they don't - so I love them. I was talking to my fiance on Skype and let him know that I was hanging up so we could go see some of the storm.
"We should go outside and watch," I told my 9-year-old, Guenevere. "I love thunder storms!"
"I don't!" she replied. "They scare me!"
"Why do they scare you?" I asked, ushering her out the back door into the cool night. I was relieved to go outside because inside was so muggy after a hot day like this one. To my surprise, Guen grabbed my pink robe and wrapped it around herself before stepping out through the screen door.
"Because," she began. "It's loud and it touches the ground and destroys stuff."
I smiled. "I think this one might have the kind that goes from cloud to cloud. Look!"
We watched as lightning lit up the night sky several times before we even heard the far away sound of thunder.