Friday, January 12, 2018

A Life Well Lived by Steve Maraboli

Music:
Besame Mucho - Nicolas De Angelis



A Life Well Lived
Steve Maraboli

Many people experience the travesty of regret in their end days;
the realization that nothing held them back, that nothing was
in their way, that there is no one to blame, only themselves.

What are you waiting for?

Don't just sit by waiting for your life to happen, make it happen!
Don’t just hope your dreams will come alive, breathe life into them!
Don't let your fear help you birth a well-nourished regret;
take action today!

Be amongst the few who dare to follow their dreams!


Cemeteries are full of unfulfilled dreams... countless echoes
of “could have” and “should have”… countless books unwritten…
countless songs unsung...

Don’t choose to walk the well-worn path to regret.
Live your life in such a way that when your body is laid to rest,
it will be a well needed rest from a life well lived, a song well
sung, a book well written, opportunities well explored, and a love
well expressed.

There will always be fear; do it anyway.
Let your courage inspire the world around you!

Nobody ever talks about the pyramids that weren't built…
the books that weren't written… the songs that weren't sung…

Stop letting your fear condemn you to mediocrity.
Get out of your own way. Your dreams are a poetic reflection
of your soul's wishes.
Be courageous enough to follow them.


There is no greater time than now to experience the full power
of your potential. Make this the day you take the first step in
the beautiful journey of bringing your dreams to life.

Today is a new day. This is your chance; your moment.
Dare to exhaust yourself with all the opportunities this day
offers along the path to your dreams.

Live courageously bold! Live in such a manner that at the end
of this day, at the end of this year, at the end of this precious
life, you can hold your head up high, smile, and be proud of a life well lived.

Thursday, January 11, 2018

I choose to be me by Miranda Marrott


I choose to live by choice, not by chance;
to make changes, not excuses;
to be motivated, not manipulated;
to be useful, not used;
to excel, not to compete.

I choose self-esteem, not self-pity.
I choose to listen to my inner voice,
not the random opinion of others.
I choose to be me.
Miranda Marrott

Uderstanding Life by Marie Curie


Nothing in life is to be feared;
it is only to be understood.

Now is the time to understand more
so that we may fear less.
Marie Curie

Monday, January 8, 2018

Reflection


We cannot see our reflection in running water.
It is only in still water that we can see.
Zen Saying

There will come a time by Maxim Gorky


Excerpt from" Mother"
Maxim Gorky

Raising his hand and shaking it, he began slowly
in a solemn tone of assurance with faith and with strength:

"There will come a time, I know, when people will take delight
in one another, when each will be like a star to the other,
and when each will listen to his fellow as to music.

The free men will walk upon the earth, men great in their freedom.
They will walk with open hearts, and the heart of each will be pure
of envy and greed, and therefore all mankind will be without malice,
and there will be nothing to divorce the heart from reason.
Then life will be one great service to man! His figure will be
raised to lofty heights-- for to free men all heights are attainable.

Then we shall live in truth and freedom and in beauty, and those
will be accounted the best who will the more widely embrace
the world with their hearts, and whose love of it will be
the profoundest; those will be the best who will be the freest;
for in them is the greatest beauty. Then will all life be great,
and the people will be great who live that life."

Thursday, December 28, 2017

Reflections for New year:Inspirational New year Poems:The year by Ella Wheeler Wilcox***LIFE by Henry Van dyke

Music:>
La Vie En Rose - Richard Clayderman



The year
Ella Wheeler Wilcox

What can be said in New Year rhymes,
That’s not been said a thousand times?

The new years come, the old years go,
We know we dream, we dream we know.

We rise up laughing with the light,
We lie down weeping with the night.

We hug the world until it stings,
We curse it then and sigh for wings.

We live, we love, we woo, we wed,
We wreathe our brides, we sheet our dead.

We laugh, we weep, we hope, we fear,
And that’s the burden of the year.


The shadow by my finger cast
Divides the future from the past:
Before it, sleeps the unborn hour
In darkness, and beyond thy power:
Behind its unreturning line,
The vanished hour, no longer thine:
One hour alone is in thy hands,--
The NOW on which the shadow stands.
Henry Van Dyke

Time
Henry Van Dyke

Time is
Too Slow for those who Wait,
Too Swift for those who Fear,
Too Long for those who Grieve,
Too Short for those who Rejoice;
But for those who Love,
Time is not.

Life
Henry Van Dyke

Let me but live my life from year to year,
With forward face and unreluctant soul,
Not hastening to, nor turning from the goal;
Nor mourning things that disappear
In the dim past, nor holding back in fear
From what the future veils; but with a whole
And happy heart, that pays its toll
To youth and age, and travels on with cheer.

So let the way wind up the hill or down,
Through rough or smooth, the journey will be joy,
Still seeking what I sought when but a boy --
New friendship, high adventure, and a crown,
I shall grow old, but never lose life's zest,
Because the road's last turn will be the best.

One World
Henry Van Dyke

The worlds in which we live are two
The world 'I am' and the world 'I do.'

The worlds in which we live at heart are one,
The world "I am," the fruit of "I have done";

And underneath these worlds of flower and fruit,
The world "I love,"--the only living root.

Friday, December 22, 2017

Excerpts From Jesus,The Son Of Man BY Khalil Gibran

Music:
Andre Rider-The Nightingale's Prayer


Excerpts from Jesus,The son Of man
Khalil Gibran

Jesus As told and recorded by
Pilate's wife to a Roman lady

I was walking with my maidens in the groves outside of Jerusalem
when I saw Him with a few men and women sitting about Him;
and He was speaking to them in a language which I only half understood.

But one needs not a language to perceive a pillar of light
or a mountain of crystal. The heart knows what the tongue
may never utter and the ears may never hear.

He was speaking to His friends of love and srength.
I know He spoke of love because there was melody in His voice;
and I know He spoke of strength because there were armies in
His gestures.

When He saw me passing by He stopped speaking
for a moment and looked kindly upon me.

After that day His image visited my privacy when I would
not be visited by man or woman; and His eyes searched
my soul when my own eyes were closed.
And His voice governs the stillness of my nights.
I am held fast forevermore; and there is peace in my pain,
and freedom in my tears.

Beloved friend, you have never seen that man,
and you will never see Him.
He is gone beyond our senses,
but of all men He is now the nearest to me.

Joseph surnamed Justus On
Jesus the Wayfarer

He sang a song and none shall arrest that melody.
It shall hover from generation to generation and it shall rise
from sphere to sphere remembering the lips that gave it birth
and the ears that cradled it.

He was a stranger. Aye, He was a stranger,
a wayfarer on His way to a shrine,
a visitor who knocked at our door,
a guest from a far country.
And because He found not a gracious host,
He has returned to His own place.

John at Patmos On
Jesus the Gracious

Once more I would speak of Him.
God gave me the voice and the burning lips
though not the speech.
And unworthy am I for the fuller word,
yet I would summon my heart to my lips.

Jesus loved me and I knew not why.
And I loved Him because He quickened my spirit to heights
beyond my stature, and to depths beyond my sounding.

Love is a sacred mystery.
To those who love, it remains forever wordless;
But to those who do not love, it may be but a heartless jest.

I was young then and only the voice of dawn had visited my ears.
But His voice and the trumpet of His voice was the end of my labor
and the beginning of my passion.

And there were naught for me then but to walk in the sun
and worship the loveliness of the hour.
Could you conceive a majesty too kind to be majestic?
And a beauty too radiant to seem beautiful?
Could you hear in your dreams a voice shy of its own rapture?
He called me and I followed Him.

His fragrance called me and commanded me, but only to release me.
Love is a gracious host to his guests though to the unbidden
his house is a mirage and a mockery.

John the son of Zebedee
On the various apellations of Jesus

He is the first Word, which would speak with our voice and
live in our ear that we may heed and understand.

And the Word of the Lord our God builded a house of flesh
and bones, and was man like unto you and myself.

For we could not hear the song of the bodiless wind nor see
our greater self walking in the mist...

Yet the sound of His voice descended never to emptiness,
for the memory of man keeps that which his mind takes no care to keep.

This is the Christ, the innermost and the height,
who walks with man towards eternity.

In my heart dwells Jesus of Galilee, the Man above men,
the Poet who makes poets of us all, the Spirit who knocks
at our door that we may wake and rise and walk out to meet
truth naked and unencumbered.

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