Food for Thought
It is not the critic who counts, not the man who points out how the strong man stumbled, or where the doer of deeds could have done better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood, who strives valiantly, who errs and comes short again and again, who knows the great enthusiasms, the great devotions, and spends himself in a worthy cause, who at best knows achievement and who at the worst if he fails at least fails while daring greatly so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who know neither victory nor defeat.
- Theodore Roosevelt. From a speech given in Paris at the Sorbonne in 1910
I was never brought up to believe in past lives. But from the very beginning, I’ve been a challenger, a questioner, a passionately expressive and explosive person with strongly held convictions; I grew up shouting. I never aspired to be like Gandhi (though I greatly admire who he was).
I’m quieter now (though not always) but every time I read a quotation like this one above, every time I watch a king or general’s speech before battle, every time I watch a competition of physical feat or hear a lively debate (excluding the often moronic modern-day political ones), my heart is awakened — my soul seems to take a deep breath of remembrance.
I think it would be wonderful to know that I was once someone with great purpose who could explain my seemingly out-of-place ferocity. And then, if only I could become that person again!
Filed under: Inspiration | 11 Comments
Tags: criticism, speech, the Sorbonne, Theodore Roosevelt
Feats of others awaken the same spirit in us.
Excellent post!
(P.S. I also have a boxer, one of the best breeds of dogs on the earth.)
Susan: Thank you!
And I agree: I wouldn’t trade Lucy for anything. She has made me totally in love with her kind.
Steph,
“sometimes beauty has sweat on its face.”
This is what I wrote to my friend John Ed Bradley last year in response to his heartfelt book about his days playing football for LSU. He wrote me back that he had copied the words down and taped them to his computer. This from a Pulitzer nominated author. I was moved. He walked away from an NFL career to write for the Washington Post and to become a novelist because that is what he was. A writer, but a writer with the ferocity you and Roosevelt both reference.
I think if we touch that “before battle warrior” in us more often, we can do the things we are born to do…better. Be wholeheartedly in the game so to speak.
And oh, my dog , Little John was a boxer too. We are so on the same page.
You have to change this part “…I was once someone with great purpose…” to this:
“I *am* someone with great purpose.”
There – all better now!
The purpose, of course, doesn’t have to be leading an army into battle, or finding a cure for cancer – it can be as simple as making people smile, every day.
Steph,
Growth sometimes IS our current purpose. Continue to take it all in. Enjoy, appreciate, marvel at the miracle as it unfolds.
You’ll know what to do with it all as it is made known to you.
It’s good that you are always aware and asking questions. It’s part of being prepared and learning.
@ Janice: “I think if we touch that “before battle warrior” in us more often, we can do the things we are born to do…better.” I agree. It’s too bad we often forget it.
@ Brett: You’re right…but I want to do more than that. I just don’t know what.
@ Wendi: I know there’s great truth in what you’re saying: that a large part of our purpose is simply growth and discovery. The part I’m still waiting for is the revelation of what I’m supposed to do with it all. I crave that certainty.
I loved this. I do believe deja vu or surprise resonation (just made that one up right now) harkens back to a previous life, or foreshadows destiny. It can’t not be meaningless. I try and remind myself that all will be revealed, but I’m not in charge of the timetable. It definitely helps to hand every dilemma to the Big Guy Upstairs. And it’s also okay to remind him that it’s frustrating to not be in the know, but ultimately we’ll trust his judgment.
@Steph,
Keep thinking, pondering, meditating, searching – and at the same time, keep taking those walks outside.
It will hit you. Or maybe it already has, and you just need to take that leap of faith. I know what I’m meant to do – so with a little kick in the rear-end here and there from my friends…
@ Betsy: I hear you. In my impatience, I keep forgetting to trust.
PS. Foreshadows destiny: hmmm, hadn’t thought of that.
@ Brett: I don’t think it already has hit me yet. I figure when it does, I’ll have no doubt about it being what I have to do. But you’re right. I need to keep meditating and asking myself questions till I finally hit the right one.
What a cool thought. I bet you were a valiant warrior in a past life — or you will be one in a future life! (gasp! a Catholic writing about reincarnation?
)
LOL! And I just posted about how my parents say I’m not a Catholic anymore. SIGH! (Sometimes I go to church because I miss it, but then I find myself wanting to leave because I’m not in love with the priest we have or they say something I don’t agree with. It’s only a 5-min. walk from here, which makes it seem more sinful not to go. Hmph. I guess “Catholic guilt” is a cliche for a reason!)