Said the little boy, “Sometimes I drop my spoon.” Said the old man, “I do that too.” The little boy whispered, “I wet my pants.” I do that too,” laughed the little old man. Said the little boy, “I often cry.” The old man nodded, “So do I.” But worst of all,” said the boy, “it seems Grown-ups don’t pay attention to me.” And he felt the warmth of a wrinkled old hand. I know what you mean,” said the little old man.”
Sometimes you get a compliment when you least expect it. Today the little girl my sister babysits told me I was beautiful and that she liked my dress. Honestly, her saying that was so sweet- it made my week :)
“Don’t aim at success. The more you aim at it and make it a target, the more you are going to miss it. For success, like happiness, cannot be pursued; it must ensue, and it only does so as the unintended side effect of one’s personal dedication to a cause greater than oneself or as the by-product of one’s surrender to a person other than oneself. Happiness must happen, and the same holds for success: you have to let it happen by not caring about it. I want you to listen to what your conscience commands you to do and go on to carry it out to the best of your knowledge. Then you will live to see that in the long-run—in the long-run, I say!—success will follow you precisely because you had forgotten to think about it.”—Viktor E. Frankl, Man’s Search for Meaning (via observando)
It is another shitty morning here in Northwestern Ontario. The rain. Oh My God. THE RAIN. I am not going to rant about the weather because all I think of when I want to complain about it is the Oscar Wilde quote “Conversation about the weather is the last refuge of the unimaginative” -so I’m not gonna do that. It is after 11:00 in the morning and I am already having my second Diet Coke. Still in my jamas not much motivation for anything else. I was going through my iTunes library and started listening to my Billie Holiday songs. It’s been awhile since I just sat and listened to them. I can remember being 18 and discovering her voice. I couldn’t get enough. She makes me nostalgic for experiences I never had, but wish I did. I am in one of those moods where everything is making me emotional. Yesterday driving to work I was listening to “Puff the Magic Dragon.” I remembered years ago my dad picked me up from a sleepover. On the long drive home that song came on the oldies station. I had heard it before, sang it even in school-but this time I was really listening to it. The part where Jackie Paper doesn’t come to see Puff anymore I completely lost it. I remember almost hyperventilating I was crying so hard. My dad just drove in silence, probably wishing that my mom had come to get me instead. Having a teenage daughter that cried irrationally was not something he felt well equipped to deal with. The thing is, I don’t know that I can say that reaction was just hormones. I’ve always been a person who feels like they are made up with raw nerve endings. Everything hurts. People’s harsh words, thoughtless behavior and indifference to how I feel still have the ability to break my heart now as easily as it did when I was five. I wish that my skin would get thicker as I got older. It hasn’t. It’s just started to wrinkle.