I'm surrounded.

I’ve been surrounded by my favorite color the moment I stepped foot here. 08/21/2015

“If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!”

                                                           -Rudyard Kipling

Someone once read me this poem and by the end of it I was inescapably in tears. This was about a year ago and much to my surprise I find myself at it’s feet again, seeking the same refuge it first offered.

I have been held hostage by some of the most inexplicable feelings I’ve ever experienced in just the last 48 hours. It has only been two days, I have exactly 237 days to go; I am on the brink of an intentional change, I’m not talking about some drastic intervention where I come back bald and with a new religion but things are surely about to get–different, to say the least.

Maybe I am not the only one this poem speaks to. Maybe you needed to hear it as much as I did. It all doesn’t have to make sense now. For the moments where it feels overwhelming or your mind is racing places it shouldn’t be, remember you’re the one who comes out of this. This is you, you’re the one who’s reading this, you’re the one who’s alive, you’re the one who is going to come out on top.


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