Day by Day

The Years

Every day has its dawn,
Its soft and silent eve,
Its noontide hours of bliss and bale; —
Why should we grieve?

Why do we heap huge mounds of years
Before us and behind,
And scorn the little days that pass
Like angels on the wind?

Each, turning round a small, sweet face
As beautiful as near,
Because it is so small a face
We will not see it clear.

We will not clasp it as it flies,
And kiss its lips and brow:
We will not bathe our wearied souls
In its delicious Now.

And so it turns from us, and goes
Away in sad disdain;
Though we could give our lives for it,
It never comes again.

Yet, every day has its dawn,
It’s noontide and its eve:
Live while we live, giving God thanks—
He will not let us grieve.

 

god created the delete button

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Name: Christina A.
Occupation: Retirement Consultant.
Location: Glendale, CA.

I never thought to ask for a raise until I was in my 40s. It blows my mind cuz I gave 12 years of my life to that company. I learned a lot, don’t get me wrong; I’m still using some of those skills in my work today.
But yeah.
When I finally did a money awareness course, it dawned on me like a piano dropped on my head, that I had some major issues around money.
To begin, my family never spoke about money.
I mean, are you kidding me?
My father, may he rest in peace, had his some heavy shit around money.
I remember this one time when I asked him how much he made –
I mean, I might’ve just said, “How many times do you masturbate a week?”
His look.
[she laughs]
He never answered me.
In my family, we never spoke about 2 things: sex and money – and we would probably speak first about sex before money.
In the early days of my company, I would write “Maybe you could send me the money you owe me / your invoice has been probably overdue by 30 days, blah blah.
Maybe, can I please, do you mind, that kinda shit.
To this day sometimes I catch myself writing those words.
But God created the delete button, and damn am I grateful.

dip your toe

Dip you toe

FADE IN: Two women, one smokes.

A: I was in a Uber car, well, really Lyft but you get what I mean. The driver, Jamal, asked me what I do. I said nothing. No really, I said, “Nothing,” all nonchalant and shit. He took a second to understand, much like me, really, I mean who says that?
I said nothing. Ugh. What kind of despicable human, am I?

A week later, I’m at this yoga retreat and someone asked me again. I was just about to answer Nothing, when I stopped myself and took a sip of my organic hot apple cider, and pretended I didn’t hear them. Or maybe I pretended to react like I was still thinking about what we just talked about. I looked stupid, is all. Well, if I’m not sure what your intentions are I’m going to blow you off.

[beat, she smokes]

Why do I do that? I know damn well who I am. Why is it hard to say it, “Who me? Oh, sure, I’m an Artist, with a capital A.” Or, “What do I do? I do greatness. I am greatness.”

[she laughs, and smokes]

You know, Mohammed Ali would say that, “Who me? I’m the greatest.” So why can’t I?

B: You can.

[she smokes]

Continue reading “dip your toe”

Swing for the fences

Swing for the fences

In 1923, Babe Ruth broke the record for most home runs in a season. That same year, he also broke the record for highest batting average.

However, there is a third record he broke that year that many people don’t know about—Babe Ruth struck out more than any other player in baseball.

Most people want to hit home runs, but they are afraid to strike out. As Babe Ruth demonstrated, you can’t have one without the other.

If we plan to swing for the fences, we have to be okay with the high probability of failure.

___
Light