“We only have what we give.” — Isabel Allende
Even though at times in doesn’t seem so, all we are in this world is what we give. Your employer pays you according to your contribution to the firm, the people around you love you and respect you according to the effort you put into building and maintaining those relationships.
The world is but a mirror.
What we give to the world becomes our legacy. What we give becomes the one thing people will never forget.
If you aspire to leave the world better than you found it, you’ll be successful.
If you help people not for want of a certain reward but because it’s the right thing to do.
If you treat those around you better than they treat you.
We only have what we give.
Remember these words.
The richest man in the cemetery is still just as dead as the rest of them.
We only have what we give.
The support we offer others, the love, the care, the respect…
We only have what we give, for all else leaves this world the moment we do.
It seems to me that we spend most of our lives waiting. For some mystical alignment of the stars to create the life we’ve always imagined for ourselves. For someone to come into our lives and make us unimaginably happy.
We imagine into existence a certain future we deem ourselves worthy of experiencing but we never do anything to actually create it. Continue reading
I often tell people that the few months I spent writing and posting my stories on Wattpad were the happiest I have yet to live. I have made the decision to see only the nostalgic beauty of those moments and not the absurd struggle.
Don’t you feel that sometimes we try so hard to turn real life into art? To turn our past into a story that could never be true? A story that is either better or worse than anything “real.” Continue reading
“The loneliest moment in someone’s life is when they are watching their whole world fall apart, and all they can do is stare blankly.” – F. Scott Fitzgerald
I’m almost twenty six years old. A fragile age indeed; I have yet to conquer all the good and the bad that life can throw at me. But I’ve seen things, I’ve done things. Scars have been inflicted upon my body and soul. I’ve kept secrets, I’ve nurtured bizarre dreams and fantasies until they became demons. I’ve lost more battles than I can count…
And I’ve fallen… time and time again…
And yet… it’s not the fall that breaks most people. It’s the fear that they’ll never rise up again.
You know the saying that “the road to success is always under construction?” It’s a constant process, a constant battle.
Failure is not the opposite of success. It’s a stepping stone. An important element of it. Each and every single time you fail, you’re actually getting closer to success.
Hard work pays off.
There’s no way to argue about it.
Perseverance pays off. Discipline pays off. Having the necessary motivation to do what others won’t in order to do what others can’t.
Having the courage to look fear in the eye and try one more time.
Just one more time.
Again and again and again.
Over and over again.
There is no end to this.
There is no final destination.
It’s just you and your dream. It’s just you and where you want to be. You and who you want to become.
And you have to work your ass off to get all that you want, to become all that you can be.
There is no other way. Never was, never will.
There are certain patterns of thinking that limit our possibilities, that hinder our potential.
Trying to play it safe, trying to be reasonable, trying to do what’s easy, our longing for future comfort, safety, or the idea that some people are gifted and we’re not.
We define our own selves. We also limit ourselves.
Fear is simply a story we tell ourselves.
The things we can (or can’t) do are rarely a reflection of actual abilities, but rather a reflection of our beliefs in said abilities.
There is no box. There are no limits. Impossible is nothing.
But it’s well to remember from time to time that all cliches become so because they are painfully true.
Thus, the trick is to revel in the posibility of reaching a certain level of mastery, the highest level of performance in any given field.
The idea is not to become the best, but to always become better.
One of my favorite opening lines goes like this, “All that I write was once real life.”
It’s from Max Blecher’s last novel, The Shinning Burrow.
How do you turn real life into art? Into stories? How do you write about all the things you’d never have the courage to say out loud?