Inspiration

This is a selection of inspirational texts that I have collected over the years.

The Invitation

It doesn’t interest me what you do for a living.

I want to know what you ache for

and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart’s longing.

It doesn’t interest me how old you are.

I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool

for love

for your dream

for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn’t interest me what planets are squaring your moon...

I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow

if you have been opened by life’s betrayals

or have become shrivelled and closed

from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain

mine or your own

without moving to hide it

or fade it

or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy

mine or your own

if you can dance with wildness

and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes

without cautioning us to

be careful

be realistic

remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn’t interest me if the story you are telling me

is true.

I want to know if you can

disappoint another

to be true to yourself.

If you can bear the accusation of betrayal

and not betray your own soul.

If you can be faithless

and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty

even when it is not pretty

every day.

And if you can source your own life

from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure

yours and mine

and still stand at the edge of the lake

and shout to the silver of the full moon,

“Yes.”

It doesn’t interest me

to know where you live or how much money you have.

I want to know if you can get up

after the night of grief and despair

weary and bruised to the bone

and do what needs to be done

to feed the children.

It doesn’t interest me who you know

or how you came to be here.

I want to know if you will stand

in the centre of the fire

with me

and not shrink back.

It doesn’t interest me where or what or with whom

you have studied.

I want to know what sustains you

from the inside

when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone

with yourself

and if you truly like the company you keep

in the empty moments.

This is the poem from the book "The Invitation" written by Oriah Mountain Dreamer. Its about how to live with passion, honesty and intimacy.

The Struggle of a Butterfly

A man found the cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to force it's body through that little hole. Then it seemed to stop making any progress.

It appeared as if it had gotten as far as it could and could go no further. So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and snipped off the remaining bit of the cocoon. The butterfly then emerged easily. But it had a swollen body and small, shrivelled wings. The man continued to watch the butterfly because he expected that, at any moment, the wings would enlarge and expand to be able to support the body, which would contract in time. Neither happened. In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around with a swollen body and shrivelled wings. It never was able to fly.

What the man in his kindness and haste did not understand, was that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required for the butterfly to get through the tiny opening were God's way of forcing fluid from the body of the butterfly into its wings so that it would be ready for flight once it achieved its freedom from the cocoon.

Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our life. If God allowed us to go through our life without any obstacles, it would cripple us. We would not be as strong as what we could have been. We could never fly.

I asked for strength and

God gave me difficulties, to make me strong

I asked for wisdom and

God gave me problems, to solve

I asked for prosperity and

God gave me brawn and brain, to work

I asked for courage and

God gave dangers, to overcome

I asked for Love and

God gave me troubled people, to help

I asked for favours and

God gave me opportunities, to pursue

I received nothing I wanted

I received everything I needed

My prayer has been answered?

Thought For The Day

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow

I am the diamond glints on snow.

I am the sunlight on ripened grain

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush of quiet birds in circled flight

I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry

I am not there, I did not die.

Anon.

Princess Diana (1961 - 1997)

‘Little Child Lost’

Shall we ever find anything other than a child that can be such a paradox in our lives?

A little person that can generate such a conflict of anger and love.

One that causes so much sorrow when they have been hurt,

only to cause so much happiness with their laughter.

One who can cause so much fear for their safety and well-being,

and then so much comfort and serenity when they are asleep in your arms.

This little person has the ability to pull at each and every emotion known to us

and some that we weren’t even aware we had.

When the loss of a child happens, no matter how, what do we do then?

Will we ever escape the sound of their voice?

Will we never stop catching a glimpse of them out of the corner of our eye?

The answer is that you do see and you do hear,

just as you continue to love, for that child was part of your soul.

Although you may not always hear them, as they move upon the wings of the wind,

nor may you always see them as they go past on a ray of sunlight,

be assured they are with you.

Though we may never be able to explain your loss or to console you,

I wish to thank you, for without your child, and other children who have gone before us,

there would be no children in Heaven.

Playing where they never tire, your child is safe and happy.

In Memory Of The Children Who Died At Dunblane.

The Story of Echo and Narcissus

An Old Greek Tale

There was once a lovely nymph called Echo, who was so fond of chattering that the goddess Juno became very tired of hearing her voice.

‘Go and hide yourself away, Echo!’ she commanded her. ‘And do not come out until someone calls you. You must never speak except to repeat the last words of others!’

Sadly Echo obeyed, and went to the mountains alone. She longed to show herself when hunters came by, but dared not.

One day a beautiful youth came striding up the mountain-side. His name was Narcissus, and he was very good looking. Echo saw him, and at once fell in love with him. How she longed to show herself and tell him all she felt! She followed him on his way - and soon he knew that someone was near, and wondered who it was.

‘Who is there?’ he cried, stopping suddenly.

‘There!’ said Echo.

‘Do not follow me!’ commanded the youth.

‘Me!’ cried Echo, always repeating his last word. Narcissus was puzzled.

‘Come and show yourself to me here!’ he commanded.

‘Here!’ cried Echo gladly, and stepped forth. But, alas! to her great dismay Narcissus did not love her, and bade her go away again. In sadness she prayed to the goddess Venus to punish Narcissus by making him, in his turn, fall in love with someone who did not want him.

Soon Narcissus was thirsty, and when he came to a clear pool, he knelt down to drink - and in the water he saw his own beautiful face! He thought it was the face of a water-nymph looking up at him, and he stretched out his arms to her. The reflection stretched out its arms too, and Narcissus was overjoyed. He put his hand into the pool to take the nymph’s hand - but at once the water rippled and the reflection of his lovely face was gone. Narcissus waited till the water was clear again, and then saw what he thought was the nymph once more smiling at him.

Poor Narcissus! He fell deeply in love with his own image, though he did not once guess that the nymph was only himself. He would not leave the pool, but day and night, by sunshine and moonlight, he entreated the nymph to come from the water and be his love. When he smiled, she smiled. When he looked sad, so did she. Echo came by and saw what was happening, and she grieved bitterly to see her prayer fulfilled in such a way.

Narcissus forgot to eat and drink - and on the fourth day he died. The gods, looking down on the beautiful youth, were sorry for him, and changed him into the lovely flower that bears his name. And still it loves to grow by pools where it can lean over and see its own lovely image.

As for Echo, she pined away in the mountains until she became nothing but a voice. You may still hear it, repeating your last words - and then we say, ‘Hark! Listen to the echo!’

GOOD MOTIVATION

A well-known speaker started off his seminar by holding up a $20 bill.

In the room of 200, he asked, "Who would like this $20 bill?" Hands

started going up. He said, "I am going to give this $20 to one of you but first let me do this."

He proceeded to crumple the dollar bill up. He then asked, "Who still

wants it?" Still the hands were up in the air.

"Well," he replied, "What if I do this?" And he dropped it on the

ground and started to grind it into the floor with his shoe. He picked

it up, now all crumpled and dirty. "Now who still wants it?" Still the

hands went into the air.

"My friends, you have all learned a very valuable lesson. No matter

what I did to the money, you still wanted it because it did not decrease in value. It was still worth $20.

Many times in our lives, we are dropped, crumpled, and ground into the dirt by the decisions we make and the circumstances that come our way. We feel as though we are worthless.

But no matter what has happened or what will happen, you will never lose your value. You are special - Don't ever forget it!

"Never let yesterday's disappointments overshadow tomorrow's dreams"

Miracles in the Snow

Through the transient fog of the dark winter night, peered haunting blue eyes with their soft glowing light.

The powerful stare with it’s brilliance and intricacy, brought on a shivering response full of caution and mystery.

They seemed to float through the air with great charm, in an effort to announce that “they meant you no harm”.

Yet as subtle as the movements had tried to be, an eerie feeling of desolation abruptly overtook me.

As I fell to the frozen, unforgiving forest floor, I noticed these two eyes had been accompanied by two more!

Soon their were three enchanting pairs upon me, watching and listening, gliding through the trees,

With one final shiver the dark night became black, I knew as I slept, that I would not be coming back.

I dreamt of a thousand things that night, mostly about a past I wanted to fix and make right.

The bright morning sun was the next thing I saw, which was followed by the touch of a rather large paw!

And after providing a steaming kiss on the nose, the wolf disappeared and I arose.

In the snow at my feet, there were paw prints all about, and the surrounding outlines of the bodies which helped keep the winter out.

The howl which followed echoed forever it seemed … Conveying the heartfelt message, “You are important to me”.

By the “Spiritwolf” Brian. D. Schmidt.

This Is My Life

Funny how a lonely day can make a person say "What good is my life?"

Funny how a breaking heart can make me start to say "What good is my life?"

Funny how I often seem to think I'll never find a dream in my life,

Till I look around and see this great big world is part of me and my life.

This is my life, today, tomorrow, love will come and find me,

For that's the way I was born to be,

This is me, this is me,

This is my life and I don't give a damn for lost emotions,

I've still so much love I've got to give,

Let me live, let me live.

Sometimes when I feel afraid I think of what a mess I've made of my life,

Crying over my mistakes, forgetting all the breaks I've had in my life,

I was put on Earth to be, a part of this great world is me and my life,

Guess I'll just add up the score and count the things I'm grateful for in my life.

This is my life, today, tomorrow, love will come and find me,

For that's the way I was born to be,

This is me, this is me,

This is my life and I don't give a damn for lost emotions,

I've still so much love I've got to give,

Let me live, let me live.

This is my life ...

This is my life ...

This is my life.

Song lyrics from Dame Shirley Bassey

Time

To realise the value of ONE YEAR, ask a student who failed a grade.

To realise the value of ONE MONTH, ask a mother who gave birth to a premature baby.

To realise the value of ONE WEEK, ask the editor of a weekly newspaper.

To realise the value of ONE HOUR, ask the lovers who are waiting to meet.

To realise the value of ONE MINUTE, ask the person who missed the train.

To realise the value of ONE SECOND, ask the person who just avoided an accident.

To realise the value of ONE MILLI-SECOND, ask the person who won a silver medal in the Olympics.

Treasure every moment that you have! And treasure it more because you shared it with someone special, special enough to spend your time. And remember that time waits for no one. Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is mystery. Today is a gift.

That's why it's called the present!

WHY CAN'T IT STILL BE LIKE THIS?

According to today's regulators and bureaucrats, those of us who were

kids in the 60's, 70's and early 80's probably shouldn't have survived,

because our baby cots were covered with brightly coloured lead-based

paint which was promptly chewed and licked.

We had no childproof lids on medicine bottles, or latches on doors or

cabinets and it was fine to play with pans.

When we rode our bikes, we wore no helmets, just flip-flops and

fluorescent 'spokey dokey's' on our wheels. As children, we would ride

in cars with no seat belts or airbags - riding in the passenger seat was

a treat.

We drank water from the garden hose and not from a bottle and it tasted

the same.

We ate chips, bread and butter pudding and drank fizzy juice with sugar

in it, but we were never overweight because we were always outside

playing.

We shared one drink with four friends, from one bottle or can and no-one

actually died from this.

We would spend hours building go-carts out of scraps and then went top

speed down the hill, only to find out we forgot the brakes.

After running into stinging nettles a few times, we learned to solve the

problem.

We would leave home in the morning and could play all day, as long as we

were back before it got dark. No one was able to reach us and no one

minded.

We did not have Play stations or X-Boxes, no video games at all. No 99

channels on TV, no videotape movies, no surround sound, no mobile

phones, no personal computers, no DVDs, no Internet chat rooms.

We had friends - we went outside and found them.

We played elastics and rounders, and sometimes that ball really hurt!

We fell out of trees, got cut, and broke bones but there were no law

suits.

We had full on fist fights but no prosecution followed from other

parents.

We played chap-the-door-run-away and were actually afraid of the owners

catching us.

We walked to friends' homes.

We also, believe it or not, WALKED to school; we didn't rely on mummy or

daddy to drive us to school, which was just round the corner.

We made up games with sticks and tennis balls.

We rode bikes in packs of 7 and wore our coats by only the hood.

The idea of a parent bailing us out if we broke a law was unheard

of...They actually sided with the law.

This generation has produced some of the best risk-takers and problem

solvers and inventors, ever. The past 50 years have been an explosion of

innovation and new ideas. We had freedom, failure, success and

responsibility, and we learned how to deal with it all.

And you're one of them. Congratulations!

Pass this on to others who have had the luck to grow as real kids,

before lawyers and government regulated our lives, for our own good.

For those of you who aren't old enough, thought you might like to read

about us.

This my friends, is surprisingly frightening......and it might put a

smile on your face:

The majority of students in universities today were born in

1986........They are called youth.

They have never heard of We are the World, We are the children, and the

Uptown Girl they know is by Westlife not Billy Joel.

They have never heard of Rick Astley, Bananarama, Nena Cherry or Belinda

Carlisle.

For them, there has always been only one Germany and one Vietnam.

AIDS has existed since they were born. CD's have existed since they were

born.

Michael Jackson has always been white.

To them John Travolta has always been round in shape and they can't

imagine how this fat guy could be a god of dance. They believe that

Charlie's Angels and Mission Impossible are films from last year.

They can never imagine life before computers.

They'll never have pretended to be the A Team, RedHand Gang or the

Famous Five.

They'll never have applied to be on Jim'll Fix It or Why Don't You.

They can't believe a black and white television ever existed. And they

will never understand how we could leave the house without a mobile

phone.

Now let's check if we're getting old...

1. You understand what was written above and you smile.

2. You need to sleep more, usually until the afternoon, after a night out.

3. Your friends are getting married/already married.

4. You are always surprised to see small children playing comfortably with computers.

5. When you see teenagers with mobile phones, you shake your head.

6. You remember watching Dirty Den in EastEnders the first time around.

7. You meet your friends from time to time, talking about the good Old days, repeating again all the funny things you have

experienced together.

8. Having read this mail, you are thinking of forwarding it to some other friends because you think they will like it too...

Yes, you're getting old!!

One Flaw In Women

By the time the Lord made woman, He was into his sixth day of working overtime.

An angel appeared and said, "Why are you spending so much time on this one?"

And the Lord answered, "Have you seen my spec sheet on her?

She has to be completely washable, but not plastic, have over 200 movable parts, all replaceable and able to run on diet coke and leftovers, have a lap that can hold four children at one time, have a kiss that can cure anything from a scraped knee to a broken heart - and she will do everything with only two hands."

The angel was astounded at the requirements.

"Only two hands!? No way!

And that's just on the standard model? That's too much work for one day. Wait until tomorrow to finish."

But I won't," the Lord protested.

"I am so close to finishing this creation that is so close to my own heart.

She already heals herself when she is sick AND can work 18 hour days."

The angel moved closer and touched the woman.

"But you have made her so soft,

Lord."

"She is soft," the Lord agreed, "but I have also made her tough. You have no idea what she can endure or accomplish."

"Will she be able to think?, asked the angel.

The Lord replied, "Not only will she be able to think, she will be able to reason and negotiate."

The angel then noticed something,

and reaching out, touched the woman's cheek. "Oops, it looks like you have a leak in this model.

I told you that you were trying to put too much into this one."

"That's not a leak," the Lord corrected, "that's a tear!"

"What's the tear for?" the angel asked.

The Lord said, "The tear is her way of expressing her joy, her sorrow, her pain, her disappointment, her love, her loneliness, her grief and her pride."

The angel was impressed.

"You are a genius, Lord. You thought of everything! Woman is truly amazing."

And she is!

Women have strengths that amaze men.

They bear hardships and they carry burdens, but they hold happiness, love and joy.

They smile when they want to scream.

They sing when they want to cry.

They cry when they are happy and laugh when they are nervous.

They fight for what they believe in.

They stand up to injustice.

They don't take "no" for an answer when they believe there is a

better solution.

They go without so their family can have.

They go to the doctor with a frightened friend.

They love unconditionally.

They cry when their children excel and cheer when their friends get awards.

They are happy when they hear about a birth or a wedding.

Their hearts break when a friend dies.

They grieve at the loss of a family member, yet they are strong when they think there is no strength left.

They know that a hug and a kiss can heal a broken heart.

Women come in all shapes, sizes and colors.

They'll drive, fly, walk, run or e-mail you to show how much they care about you.

The heart of a woman is what makes the world keep turning.

They bring joy, hope and love.

They have compassion and ideals.

They give moral support to their family and friends.

Women have vital things to say and everything to give.

HOWEVER, IF THERE IS ONE FLAW IN WOMEN,

IT IS THAT THEY FORGET THEIR WORTH.

This poem was read out at Pauline's funeral and although it's one I've never heard before I found it very comforting. If anyone out there reading this has lost someone dear then hopefully they will find some small comfort in these words.

Death is nothing at all

I have only slipped away into the next room

I am I and you are you

Whatever we were to each other

That we are still

Call me by my old familiar name

Speak to me in the easy way you always used

Put no difference into your tone

Wear no forced air of solemnity or sorrow

Laugh as we always laughed

At the little jokes we always enjoyed together

Play, smile, think of me, pray for me

Let my name be ever the household word that it always was

Let it be spoken without effort

Without the ghost of a shadow in it

Life means all that it ever meant

It is the same as it ever was

There is absolute unbroken continuity

What is death but a negligible accident?

Why should I be out of mind

Because I am out of sight?

I am waiting for you for an interval

Somewhere very near

Just around the corner

All is well.

Nothing is past; nothing is lost

One brief moment and all will be as it was before

How we shall laugh at the trouble of parting when we meet again!

Canon Henry Scott-Holland, 1847-1918, Canon of St Paul's Cathedral

If I be the first of us to die,

Let grief not blacken long your sky.

Be bold yet modest in your grieving,

There is change but not a leaving.

For just as death is part of life,

The dead live on forever in the living.

For all the gathered riches of our journey,

The moments shared, the mysteries explored,

The steady layer of intimacy stored,

The things that made us laugh or weep or sing,

The joy of sunlit snow or first unfurling of the spring,

The wordless language of look and touch,

The knowing,

Each giving and each taking,

These are not flowers that fade,

Nor trees that fall and crumble,

Nor are they stone

For even stone cannot the wind and rain withstand

And mighty mountain peaks in time reduce to sand.

What we were, we are.

What we had, we have.

A conjoined past imperishably present.

So when you walk the woods where once we walked together

And scan in vain the dappled bank beside you for my shadow,

Or pause where we always did upon the hill to gaze across the land,

And spotting something, reach by habit for my hand,

And finding none, feel sorrow start to steal upon you,

Be still.

Close your eyes.

Breathe.

Listen for my footfall in your heart.

I am not gone but merely walk within you.

Nicholas Evans.

I’m tired of crying.

I’m tired of yelling.

I’m tired of being sad.

I’m tired of pretending.

I’m tired of being alone.

I’m tired of being angry.

I’m tired of feeling crazy.

I’m tired of feeling stuck.

I’m tired of needing help.

I’m tired of remembering.

I’m tired of missing things.

I’m tired of being different.

I’m tired of missing people.

I’m tired of feeling worthless.

I’m tired of feeling empty inside.

I’m tired of not being able to just let go.

I’m tired of wishing I could start all over.

I’m tired of dreaming of a life I will never have.

But most of all, I’m just tired of being tired.