Tuesday, March 11, 2014

A Little Essay About Living

After coming to the realization that I had books on my list of things that I really wanted to accomplish and then coming to the conclusion that it was absurd to have had something so easily accomplished as reading a book on such a list, I promptly ordered War and Peace and got to thinking–and then–to writing:

Let us hunt knowledge for the thrill of the chase, and having captured it, set it free in the menagerie of our minds.  That glorious space without boundaries, where all things are possible and all is magic.
Write with a fountain pen because it makes writing seem special.
Build something yourself even though it's easier to buy it.
Draw pictures that, though they be horrible, fill you with childish delight.
Find dreams worth dreaming–for all dreams are–and discover ways to make them reality so you can dream new ones and truly find the value of living.
Make passion for life, for loved ones, for art, for the unknown, for the yet to be imagined your daily chore.
Just begin.  Three small steps cover just as much ground as one leap forward.
Never shy away from something because it's silly.
Never let feeling childish be a negative emotion.
Play with the same devotion as you work and find work that feels like play to your mind, body or soul.
Feed your body so that it may thrive and so that you may never regret the occasional honey on your tongue.  Remember green is the color of life for a reason.
Believe in dragons, believe in Santa, believe in love and forever.  Believe with that naive heart you are afraid might be broken.
Take care of business like business.  Get it out of your way so that the books are balanced and paid and all else of time is your own.
Treat worry as the ridiculous, shackling emotion that it is.  If you find yourself set to worry, fix that which causes you strife.  If it can't be correct now, prepare for when it can and then cast it from your thoughts until that day.
Look at children as creative geniuses; look at morose geniuses with pity.  Look at the gregarious old man who, in spite of his ailments is smiling, as a sage; look at the negative youth, with all his vigor, as a villain.   
Wake each day with a goal for your mind, a goal for your body and a goal to fill that, which for lack of explanation, we might call a soul–feed it beauty, let it drink of wonder, teach it to love with abandon and let it feel, oh let it feel.
To love, to learn, to play.
To find the glorious in each of our days.
Do this, and call yourself alive.

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Scarlet Hopewell