Inspirations

Our deepest fear
Is not that we are inadequate
Our deepest fear
Is that powerful beyond measure
There is our light, nor our darkness,
That most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I
To be brilliant, gorgeous,
Talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.

Your playing small doesn't serve the world.
So that other people
Won't feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest
The glory of God that is within us.
It's not just in some of us; it's in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
We unconsciously give other people
Permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our prescence automatically
Liberates others.

Marianne Williamson
"A Return to Love"

After A While

After a while you learn
The subtle difference between
Holding a hand and chaining a soul
And you learn
That love doesn't mean leaning
And company doesn't always mean security.
And you begin to learn
That kisses aren't contracts
And presents aren't promises
And you begin to accept your defeats
With your head up and your eyes ahead
With the grace of woman,
Not the grief of a child
And you learn
To build all your roads on today
Because tomorrow's ground is
Too uncertain for plans
And futures have a way of falling down
In mid-flight.
After a while you learn
That even sunshine burns
If you get too much
So you plant your own garden
And decorate your own soul
Instead of waiting for someone
To bring you flowers.
And you learn that you really can endure
You really are strong
You really do have worth
And you learn
And you learn
With every goodbye, you learn...

Veronica A. Shoffstall
copyright 1971

The Station

Tucked away
In our subconscious is an idyllic vision.
We see ourselves on a long trip
That spans the continent.
We are traveling by train.
Out the windows we drink
In the passing scene
Of children waving at the crossing,
Of cattle grazing,
Of smoke pouring from a power plant,
Of rows of corn and wheat,
Of flatlands and valleys of mountains,
Skylines and village halls.

But uppermost in our minds
Is the final destination.
On a certain day, at a certain hour
We will pull into the station.
Once we get there,
So many dreams will come true.

How restlessly we pace the aisles,
Damning the minutes for loitering,
Waiting for the station,
"When we reach the station,
That will be it!" we cry.
"When I'm 18."
"When I put the last kid through college."
"When I get a promotion."
"When I reach the age of retirement,
I shall live happily ever after!"

Sooner or later we must realize
There is no station,
No place to arrive.
The true joy of life is the trip.
The station is only a dream.
It constantly outdistances us.

It isn't the burdens of today
That drive men mad.
It is the regrets over yesterday
And the fear of tomorrow.
Regrets and fear are twin thieves
Who rob us of today.

So stop pacing the aisles
And counting the miles,
Instead, climb more mountains,
Eat more ice cream, go barefoot more often,
Watch more sunsets, laugh more, cry less.
Life must be lived as we go along.
The station will come soon enough.

Annonymous