Sometimes, I feel that inspiration is so plentiful, I can barely contain it, and I have so many things I want to say and post, while other times, I feel like I am accumulating thoughts and experiences with people and silence is something I need to observe because too much is going on.

It has been an overwhelming couple of months in many ways. And, as always, I try my best to be present, in the moment, listening to all the things I need to listen to, so I can regurgitate the appropriate answer for the person who needs it, and sometimes, for myself as well.

I was having a conversation with someone earlier this week about the meaning behind struggle in life and what we do with that. How do we turn struggle around into something positive and meaningful?

I have posted many times on this thought. Although like everyone, I struggle with my ideas on life and beliefs, ultimately, I do believe that “life” has its reasons and it is the purpose of life to cultivate each of us as we journey through it. These struggles become us, define us, sculpt us into better people if we allow it.

Someone told me about a book-Broken Open-that is all about this philosophy. I just ordered it and plan to read it. If anyone reads a book that they feel is helpful, please pass it on, as the words of others can often bring so much comfort in the way of offering a different perspective that we have not thought of before.

Another person I was having this same conversation with sent me the following poem that she says Nelson Mandela used to recite to himself in all of his years of captivity in order to comfort himself and stay strong. I thought I would share this with you as well as it touched me deeply:

Invictus 
 
Out of the night that covers me, 
Black as the Pit from pole to pole, 
I thank whatever gods may be 
For my unconquerable soul. 

In the fell clutch of circumstance 
I have not winced nor cried aloud. 
Under the bludgeonings of chance 
My head is bloody, but unbowed. 

Beyond this place of wrath and tears 
Looms but the Horror of the shade, 
And yet the menace of the years 
Finds, and shall find, me unafraid. 

It matters not how strait the gate, 
How charged with punishments the scroll. 
I am the master of my fate: 
I am the captain of my soul
 
William Ernest Henley (1849-1903)