Read This When You’re Tired Of Everything

I know what it’s like to feel tired – and not just in the physical sense.

The world that we live in is an exhausting place to be. It is wearing. It is thankless. It is endlessly trying and scarcely rewarding. You’re tired simply because you live in it. You’re tired of loving too much, caring too much, giving too much to a world that never gives anything back. You are tired of investing in indefinite outcomes. You’re tired of uncertainties. Tired of grey.

I know you haven’t always been this worn out – that there was a time when you were hopeful and pure. When your optimism outweighed your cynicism and you had an infinite amount in you to give. I know you have been chipped away and worn down piece by piece – a broken heart here and an un-kept promise there. I know the world hasn’t always been kind throughout the games you’ve played and that you’ve lost more times than you have ever won. I know you’re feeling uninspired to try again. I know.

Because the truth is, we’re all tired. Every single one of us. By a certain age, we are all nothing more than an army of broken hearts and aching souls, desperately searching for fulfillment. We want more but we’re too tired to ask for it. We’re sick of where we are but we are too scared to begin again. We need to take risks but we’re afraid to watch it all come crashing down around us. After all, we’re not sure how many times we will be able to start over.

We all think we’re alone in our exhaustion. But the truth is we’re tired of each other – tired of the games we play and the lies we tell and the uncertainties we present to each other. We don’t want to play the villain but we don’t want to play the fool either. So our guards go up. Our defences rile. And we take on the role that we loathe to see played because we’re not sure what choice we have left.

I know how impossible it can feel to go on trying and giving and becoming when you are exhausted straight through to the soul. I know that the cheerful ideals you were once promised now seem tired and hopeless. But here’s what I beg if you’re this close to giving up: give it one more try, with feeling. I know you’re tired of your attempts. I know that you’re at your wit’s end. But the truth about that second wind of passion is that you’re never going to realize you have it if you do not keep on running past your first.

We’re all more resilient than we think, and that’s an indisputable truth. There is always more love that we are capable of giving, more hope that we are capable of having, more passion that we’re capable of unleashing and flooding out into the world. We just don’t walk far enough down our own roads to reach the point where we’re seeing those actions pay off. We want immediate results and when we see none, we give up. We let the exhaustion stop us. We grow frustrated with the lack of feedback and we assume that means we have to throw the entire attempt right out the window.

Because here’s something we all loathe to admit – none of us are inspired every day. We all get exhausted. We all get discouraged. And we’re allowed to work on through those feelings. Just because you’re beaten down and worn out and sick of the life that you’re living doesn’t mean you’re not making a change. Every person you have ever admired has had times where they felt utterly defeated in the pursuit of their dreams. But that didn’t prevent them from reaching them. You’re allowed to stumble slowly towards your biggest transformations. It doesn’t always have to be a blazing, flagrant affair.

Some parts of life happen quietly. They happen slowly. They happen because of the small, careful choices that we make everyday, that turn us into better versions of ourselves. We have to allow ourselves the time to let those alterations happen. To watch them evolve. To not grow hopelessly frustrated in the in-between.

When you’re tired, go slowly. Go quietly. Go timidly. But do not stop. You are tired for all the right reasons. You are tired because you’re supposed to be. You’re tired because you’re making a change. You are exhausted for all the right reasons and it’s only an indication to go on. You are tired because you’re growing. And someday that growth will give way to the exact rejuvenation that you need.

Source: http://thoughtcatalog.com/heidi-priebe/2015/06/read-this-when-youre-tired-of-everything/

No one owes you anything

A Gift for My Daughter by Harry Browne December 25, 1966     (This article was originally published as a syndicated newspaper column, dedicated to my 9-year-old daughter.) It’s Christmas and I have the usual problem of deciding what to give you. I know you might enjoy many things — books, games, clothes. But I’m very selfish. I want to give you something that will stay with you for more than a few months or years. I want to give you a gift that might remind you of me every Christmas. If I could give you just one thing, I’d want it to be a simple truth that took me many years to learn. If you learn it now, it may enrich your life in hundreds of ways. And it may prevent you from facing many problems that have hurt people who have never learned it. The truth is simply this: No one owes you anything. Significance How could such a simple statement be important? It may not seem so, but understanding it can bless your entire life. No one owes you anything. It means that no one else is living for you, my child. Because no one is you. Each person is living for himself; his own happiness is all he can ever personally feel. When you realize that no one owes you happiness or anything else, you’ll be freed from expecting what isn’t likely to be. It means no one has to love you. If someone loves you, it’s because there’s something special about you that gives him happiness. Find out what that something special is and try to make it stronger in you, so that you’ll be loved even more. When people do things for you, it’s because they want to — because you, in some way, give them something meaningful that makes them want to please you, not because anyone owes you anything. No one has to like you. If your friends want to be with you, it’s not out of duty. Find out what makes others happy so they’ll want to be near you. No one has to respect you. Some people may even be unkind to you. But once you realize that people don’t have to be good to you, and may not be good to you, you’ll learn to avoid those who would harm you. For you don’t owe them anything either. Living your Life No one owes you anything. You owe it to yourself to be the best person possible. Because if you are, others will want to be with you, want to provide you with the things you want in exchange for what you’re giving to them. Some people will choose not to be with you for reasons that have nothing to do with you. When that happens, look elsewhere for the relationships you want. Don’t make someone else’s problem your problem. Once you learn that you must earn the love and respect of others, you’ll never expect the impossible and you won’t be disappointed. Others don’t have to share their property with you, nor their feelings or thoughts. If they do, it’s because you’ve earned these things. And you have every reason to be proud of the love you receive, your friends’ respect, the property you’ve earned. But don’t ever take them for granted. If you do, you could lose them. They’re not yours by right; you must always earn them. My Experience A great burden was lifted from my shoulders the day I realized that no one owes me anything. For so long as I’d thought there were things I was entitled to, I’d been wearing myself out — physically and emotionally — trying to collect them. No one owes me moral conduct, respect, friendship, love, courtesy, or intelligence. And once I recognized that, all my relationships became far more satisfying. I’ve focused on being with people who want to do the things I want them to do. That understanding has served me well with friends, business associates, lovers, sales prospects, and strangers. It constantly reminds me that I can get what I want only if I can enter the other person’s world. I must try to understand how he thinks, what he believes to be important, what he wants. Only then can I appeal to someone in ways that will bring me what I want. And only then can I tell whether I really want to be involved with someone. And I can save the important relationships for those with whom I have the most in common. It’s not easy to sum up in a few words what has taken me years to learn. But maybe if you re-read this gift each Christmas, the meaning will become a little clearer every year. I hope so, for I want more than anything else for you to understand this simple truth that can set you free: no one owes you anything. Source: http://www.harrybrowne.org/articles/GiftDaughter.htm

The Tank Man un exemplu pentru noi toti

  Nu stiu cum sa incep.. Cert este ca acest Tank man sau omul tanc a avut curajul de a lua lumea pe umerii sai si de a incerca sa o schimbe, chiar daca a fost in zadar, cel putin sa scoata China de sub comunism. Important este ca el a luat atitudine si s-a afirmat, ca a incercat sa faca ceva. Oare de ce nu l-au sustinut si ceilalti? De ce nu au venit si ei in fata tancurilor? Pentru ca ei erau pe margine si se uitau. Singurul raspuns care imi vine in minte este frica; pura frica. Oare acestui om cum de nu i-a fost frica? A fost constient de gravitatea actiunii lui, dar nu s-a dat inapoi. Inca nu se stie ce s-a intamplat cu el dupa incident. Sunt cateva teorii...unii spun ca ar trai prin Taiwan, altii ca a fost omorat la 14 zile dupa sau la cateva luni. Dar sa fim seriosi ca stim cu totii ce se intampla cand un om este impotriva sistemului, si mai ales al comunismului. Cu siguranta a fost exectuat. Ar fi fost un pericol prea mare sa il lase in libertate, caci ar fi putut trezi si ceilalti oameni si s-ar fi ridicat. Cu toate acestea pentru a accentua ipocrizia si cruzimea sistemului comunist, identitatea acestui rebel nu este nici in prezent cunoscuta. Autoritatile au spus ca nu il recunosc, ca nu il au in baza de date. Sa ii credem? NOT! Presa se pare ca a gasit numele lui  Wang Weili, un student de 19 ani, nu este ceva foarte sigur, doar o supozitie.


Un lucru de o gravitate majora este ca acest incident a fost simplu sters din istoria Chinei. Tinerii de dupa revolutia din '89 habar n-au cine a fost The Tank Man. Fiind intrebati si aratandu-li-se poza celebra cu el in fata tancurilor, unul dintre elevii intervievati a intrebat daca este o opera de arta, iar ceilalti nu au stiut.
Un lucru izbitor de asemanator se intampla si in Romania. Si ni se spune ca traim in democratie. Da? NU cred pana nu VAD !
  Peste 50% dintre actualii adolescenti si oameni mai in varsta, habar nu au ce s-a intamplat cu adevarat in perioada tulbure a comunismului. Ah da..Ceausescu, ratie de paine si alimente stricte, pionieri, 23 august, securitate, si inca cateva mici hinturi. Dar ei nu habar n-au ce e ala "Fenomenul Pitesti" sau Reeducarea de la Pitesti si Gherla , nu stiu ce s-a intamplat la Aiud, la Canal, la Jilava si in celelalte inchisori comuniste. Ei n-au auzit de martirii si sfintii care au iesit din inchisori. Ei n-au auzit ce torturi le erau aplicate. Ei nu stiu cat au suferit tinerii din Elita Romaniei, doctori, filozofi, profesori, scriitori, poeti, studenti, tarani si multi altii. De ce aceste lucuri nu ne sunt spuse la ora de istorie? De ce in manual nu este scris despre ei? De ce profesorii se feresc sa ne povesteasca? De ce? De ce? De ce? De ce? Ne este cumva rusine cu ei? Ne-au stricat ei tara? Ne-au tradat? Ne-au mintit? Nu, din contra s-au jertfit pentru tara si pentru credintele lor! Sa nu mai zic de Patriarhie, ca nu vrea sa canonizeze sfintii din inchisori precum Valeriu Gafencu. Au fost aruncati la groapa comuna alaturi de toate lichelele. Dar s-au sfintit si nu au putrezit si s-au gasit trupurile lor izvorand mir. Peste altii s-a turnat beton. S-a nivelat. Atat de mare le era frica le era de ei. Asa se procedeaza cu istoria Romaniei, se toarna beton deasupra sa nu stie nimeni ce s-a intamplat cu adevarat. Suntem legati la ochi, cu un calus pus in gura.
Situatia actuala a Romaniei este un deplorabila si profund trista... Ar trebui sa facem si noi ca Tank man sa ne opunem si sa strigam cu glas tare " PE AICI NU SE TRECE !"

Recomand "Memorialul Durerii"- o istorie care nu se invata la scoala! Gasiti pe youutbe + carti de memorialistica

           Sonnet 116

                           by William Shakespeare

 " Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved. ,,

Traducere Neculai Chirică:

“Unirea sufletelor mari nu are
Hotar, iubirea nu-i iubire dacă
Se schimbă când întâmpină schimbare
Sau când se pleacă celui care pleacă.

 O, nu ! Iubirea-i far aprins oricând,
Furtunile şi bezna să le-nfrunte ;
Stea navelor ce rătăcesc, purtând
Comori ce nu se ştiu sub-nalta punte.

Ea nu-i nebunul timpului, chiar dacă
Obraji şi buze roşii-i cad sub coasă.
Prin vreme trece fără ca să treacă,
Oricât i-ar fi ursita de tăioasă.

De nu-i aşa şi totu-i născocire,
Nicicând n-am scris, nicicând n-a fost iubire! ,,

Basm

                                                   Radu Gyr

Măi, ce Făt-Frumos blestemat am fost eu!

N-am răpus nici un zmeu,
n-am tăiat nici un cap de balaur...
În faţa mea s-au închis toţi codrii de aur.

Palatele de mărgăritare
s-au ferecat cu drugi si zăvoare.
Fântânile, cu adâncul zăcut,
mi-au dat mormoloci de băut.
Stelele mi-au intins aguridă,
grădinile, viermi si omidă...

Măi, ce Fat-Frumos blestemat am fost eu!

N-am văzut umbra Sânzenii,
mi-au ţopăit, dinainte, stârpituri si sluţenii.
La fiece pas, în tot locul,
în cârcă-mi sărea Barbă-Cot - nenorocul.

Măi, ce Făt-Frumos blestemat am fost eu!
La toate cotiturile,
mi-a smuls Strâmbă- Lemne pădurile.
Mi-a strâmbat inimă, rămurişuri, copaci
sub luna ruptă de vârcolaci.

Pe toate cărările,
Sfarămă-Piatră mi-a surpat depărtările.
Mi-a spart stâncile, munţii,
şi stemele frunţii...

În urma mea, din gol, din ruine,
doar vidma năpraznică vine,
vine, gonind, despletită în vânt
mirosind a mormânt.

Zadarnic arunc piepteni şi perii
pe-ntinsul durerii.
Nimic nu răsare
nimic nu pune hotare
între mine şi vidma cu gheare...

Măi, şi-am să dorm, am să dorm, am să dorm,
să nu ştie nimeni că dorm,
nici Uşurelul - Vântului,
nici Greul - Pământului,
nici Păsari-lăţi-lungilă.
N-aude, Na-vede, somn fără milă,
fără urmă, fără prăsilă...

Măi, ce Făt-Frumos blestemat am fost eu!

Intoarcerea lui Ulise

                                                 Radu Gyr

În fruntea mesei stau cu mirt pe tâmple,
dar dorm de mult sub zidurile Troii.
Mesenii beau şi cupa mea se umple
-voi beti cu mortii şi cinstiti strigoii,
eu am rămas sub zidurile Troii . . .

Eu am rămas sub zidurile Troii
şi cu prietenii mei morti în fundul marii;
se rumenesc berbecii graşi şi boii
zadarnic în miresmele frigarii.

Eu am rămas sub zidurile Troii
sau ratacesc pe mare cu vâslasii
-întors acasa cum se-ntorc strigoii
acelora ce nu mai vin cu pasii- .

Ma pipaiti pe umeri, pe vesminte,
încredintati ca m-am întors ‘napoi;
dar eu sunt numai sute de morminte
în leşul care umblă printre voi.

Voi îmi vorbiţi de temple, de pilaştri,
despre noi zei ce-n urma mea crescură . . .
Eu vă băsmesc de morţii mei albaştri
rămaşi sub Troia sau în mari de zgură.

Uleiuri cu miros adânc de floare
sângele Troii de pe trup nu-mi spala,
caci dincolo de orice scaldatoare,
port mortii scumpi pe mine tencuiala.

În cinstea mea chemati aezi la cina
Sa mă slaveasca ca pe toti eroii ;
dar numai umbra mea cu voi închină,
eu am rămas sub zidurile Troii.

Iar când pe sânul alb al Penelopei
las fruntea în adânc culcuş fierbinte,
eu sânger încă-n lupta cu ciclopii
ori rătăcesc pe mări cu oseminte.

Cu darnice saruturi ne-ntrerupte
muierea îmi dezmiardă la-ntâmplare
pe piept, pe umăr, rănile din lupte,
crezând că urma lor nu mă mai doare.

Ci eu sunt tot o rană nevazută
şi răni sunt ochii ăştia triştii, goii . . .
Nevasta mea sau morţii mă sărută
Întorşi acasă din cenuşa Troii ?

Din nou mă văd pe valuri cu năierii,
din nou mă bat în spade cu strigoii.

Alunec dintre coapsele muierii
şi mă-ntorc iar sub zidurile Troii . . .

Eu am rămas sub zidurile Troii !


( Din volumul " Poezia în catuşe " )

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OV5cYmzsfXY

Valoare?? Unde?!

Ma deranjeaza sa vad frumosul neglijat si inlocuit cu elemente de nimic, carora le lipseste esenta. Valoarea a inceput sa-si piarda din conotatia initiala, capatand un alt sens in viziunea modificata a oamenilor. Scara ierarhica a valorilor a fost transpus pe orizontala unde frumosul si uratul au devenit egale, verticala fiind desfiintata. Omul derutat nu mai face diferenta intre valoare si nonvaloare. Acest reflex de a recunoaste valoarea, de a face diferenta dintre bine si rau- instinct cu care ne-am nascut si l-am dezvoltat pe parcursul vietii- a fost incet, dar sigur amputat. Totusi in imensul ocean de suflete nu toate au suferit aceasta schimbare, ci au rams acelea cateva pe umerii carora se sprijina lumea. Caci de va disparea frumosul, lumea nu va mai avea motiv de a exista si totul se va reduce la nimicul initial. Regret...