Somehow
He lived in a different world, but no one could tell.
You see, he had a way with words.
It's a pity he hid behind them. Otherwise someone might have helped.
Or maybe hiding saved him. It's hard to say.
Words have no face, but they can describe one.
Words don't know people, but they can fool them.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to tell when you don't really know it.
And words, often repeated, seem true.
He took shelter in a different world, but no one could tell.
You see, he had a way with people.
It's a pity he never showed them his other world. They might have helped.
Or maybe keeping it safe protected him. It's hard to say.
People can't save, but they can lend a hand.
People can't understand, but they can listen.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to tell when it hurts people.
And people, often hurt, fade away.
You see, he had a way of thinking.
It's a pity he got stuck in his way. Otherwise he might have escaped.
Or maybe his thoughts opened doors to do good. It's hard to say.
Thoughts don't speak loudly, but they can run wild.
Thoughts aren't the end, but they chart the course.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to remember when thoughts are in the way.
And thoughts, often entertained, become reality.
It's a pity he spent so much time on it. Otherwise he might have moved on.
Or maybe his time alone taught him to love. It's hard to say.
Time shows no mercy, but it can heal.
Time doesn't wait, but it measures change.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to face when you notice lost time.
And time, often ignored, slips away.
Maybe his other world was the real one. It's hard to say.
Society can't know, but it offers an answer.
Society doesn't care, but it wants to define him.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth gets lost in the shadows when society speaks.
And society, often heeded, becomes a prophet.
Pain has no friends, but it teaches compassion.
Pain makes messes of lives, but it refines.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to forget when all you can feel is pain.
And pain, often medicated, loses its purpose.
Happiness cannot be bought, but it comes at a price.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to ignore when it leads you toward happiness.
And happiness, often tasted, deepens the thirst for more.
Somehow he never quite told the truth.
But the truth is hard to deny after living life.
And life, often contemplated, reveals the way.
The truth, as they say, sets you free when you find it.
And progress, often sought after, becomes a pattern.
Enthusiasm
I have a tendency to get enthused about…everything. And one of the most frustrating things in the world to me is when other people don’t. So I got to thinking, “Where does enthusiasm come from, and what is it anyway?” I realized that I had no idea. Naturally, I turned to Google to provide an answer. Here’s what I found.
Apathy can be overcome by enthusiasm, and enthusiasm can only be aroused by two things: first, an ideal, with takes the imagination by storm, and second, a definite intelligible plan for carrying that ideal into practice.
- Arnold J. Toynbee
But I find the best things I do, I do when I’m trying to avoid doing something else I’m supposed to be doing. You know, you’re working on something. You get bugged, or you lose your enthusiasm or something. So you turn to something else with an absolute vengeance.
- Norton Juster
Enthusiasm is followed by disappointment and even depression, and then by renewed enthusiasm.
- Murray Gell-Mann
Enthusiasm is excitement with inspiration, motivation, and a pinch of creativity.
- Bo Bennett
Enthusiasm is the divine particle in our composition: with it we are great, generous, and true; without it, we are little, false, and mean.
- Letitia Landon
And finally, from one of my favorite thinkers:
Enthusiasm is the mother of effort, and without it nothing great was ever achieved.
- Ralph Waldo Emerson
For the record
Then, something extraordinary happened.
As I typed, I began to see an even greater purpose to keeping a record. I’m happy to report that over the last 12 years, I have become a better person! And I have proof! I learned that I have changed slowly, like we all do. We may struggle to notice change in ourselves day to day because we change so gradually. If it were not for my journals, I would not be able to say confidently that I have gradually become kinder, more selfless, less judgmental, and more open minded. Why? Because most days I don’t necessarily feel kind, selfless, non-judgmental, and open minded. Without a record of the process of becoming, I would have great difficulty evaluating my life in terms of where I’ve been, where I am, and where I want to be.
I love writing a journal, and I often tell people how much I love it. When I talk about journal writing with friends, my enthusiasm is almost universally met with the following: “I don’t know what to write about. I don’t want people to know about [fill in the blank]. I don’t see the point of writing. Etc.”
Lame, people. Lame, lame, LAME.
If you do not keep some kind of personal journal, you are missing out on one of life’s most rewarding experiences. Good excuses do not really exist. I personally have huge gaps in my journal. Sometimes I don’t write anything for months at a time, but I don’t let that stop me. Huge swaths of your life may be missing from your journal, or you may not have one at all, but please explain to me why that means you can’t write an entry today.
Yes, I feel passionately about this. And I want you to feel passionately about it as well. But the only way that will happen is if you will do it. Trust me, it’s awesome.
I used to write for posterity. Now I write for myself, and that’s made all the diffence.
How do you journal? What motivates you? What have you learned about yourself?
