I saw a poem on a friend’s Facebook page the other day that spoke to me as a mother who sometimes feels the pressure of knowing I can’t blog as much as I need to, and when I was wondering whether it might be more professional to bow out until less chaotic times rather than plough on erratically. It said what I always act in favour of, no matter how difficult it gets, which is ‘Don’t. You. Quit.’
When things go wrong as they sometimes will, and the road you’re trudging seems all uphill.When funds are low and the debts are high, and you want to smile but you have to sigh.When things are pressing you down a bit, rest if you must, but don’t you quit!Life is strange with its twists and turns, as every one of us sometimes learns.And many a failure turns about, when he might have won if he’d stuck it out.Don’t give up, though the pace seems slow – you might succeed with another blow.Often the goal is nearer than it seems, to a faint and faltering man.Often the struggler has given up, when he might have captured the victor’s cup.And he learned too late, when the night slipped down, how close he was to the golden crown.Success is failure turned inside out – the silver tint of the clouds of doubt.You never can tell how close you are, it may be near when it seems afar.So stick to the fight when you’re hardest hit – it’s when things seem worst that you mustn’t quit.The author of the above poem is unknown, but believed to be St Jude.
Honestly, this arrived, as things like this always do, just exactly at the right moment. Like a message meant especially for me. It just nailed the quiet and stubborn determination I have to not give up on this amazing new path I’ve found where I fit so exactly and at which I know I can succeed. Success to me being a happy career spent helping and inspiring other people, while also realising the artistic and creative side of me. It may be all pandemonium right now, but I do just fine, and I blog with integrity and joy. Slow and steady. Pace is not important, quality is. As long as you let your readers and your contributors know how often you can work, even if that isn’t very often at all, then all is right with the world.
Print this poem out. It’s gold dust.