If our young men miscarry in their first enterprises, they lose all heart. If the young merchant fails, men say he is ruined. If the finest genius studies at one of our colleges, and is not installed in an office within one year afterwards in the cities or suburbs of Boston or New York, it seems to his friends and to himself that he is right in being disheartened, and in complaining the rest of his life. A sturdy lad from New Hampshire or Vermont, who in turn tries all the professions, who teams it, farms it, peddles, keeps a school, preaches, edits a newspaper, goes to Congress, buys a township, and so forth, in successive years, and always, like a cat, falls on his feet, is worth a hundred of these city dolls. He walks abreast with his days, and feels no shame in not ‘studying a profession,’ for he does not postpone his life, but lives already. He has not one chance, but a hundred chances.
Ralph Waldo Emerson, via Ryan Holiday (via rickyv)
1. I am alive, and I will heal.
2. I will have to say goodbye to my beloved baby Mercedes, but knowing that it saved my life is a big comfort.
3. The dozen or so police officers, firemen, and paramedics who got my car off the freeway and towed away, made sure I was safe, splinted my arm, and caught me when I lost consciousness. Especially the one who held my neck still for about 5 minutes with his hands while they examined my spine. Also the officer who went back to my car to find my coat.
4. My mother and father, and especially Jonathan who rented a car to meet me at the hospital. (With a soft blanket and a lemon pelligrino).
5. The very patient x-Ray technician who somehow managed to get good film of my face, nose, neck, back, and wrist with me being all wobbly.
6. The tired nurse who fitted my cast and measured twice to make sure it would be comfortable.
7. My father who waited in line for 30 minutes at a shady walgreens to get my pain medications, and took me home and made me a sandwich.
8. Pills that should help with the aching and soreness.
9. My nose and my cheek are not broken, and I only have minor bruising on my face.
10. I cut my hair short last week, so I don’t have to deal with it now. Huge.
11. I broke my left wrist. I am right-handed.
12. The strong bones I inherited from my father.
13. The friends who love me and care about me.
14. I will probably feel like hell for the next week, but all things considered I made it out pretty okay. I will be okay. I am lucky.
The phrase “S/he’s a keeper!”, always makes me laugh a little. People only mention when their significant other is a keeper. Nobody ever says “oh yeah, S/he’s a total loser. I’m making a huge fucking mistake.”
Life is sometimes life and sometimes only a drama, and one must learn to distinguish tother from which.
—E.M. Forster, Howards End