Its funny what you can come across on the internet when searching for something. I was looking up Capital Punishment for an essay I have to write when I saw this eye catching title: Life, the universe, and everything elegantly explained by an exceptional nine year old.
I have to say, I am just in awe of this kid.
This is what happens when you teach a child how to think instead of what to think.
My favourite line: “the meaning of your life is what you make it…nobody can decide what you will do except for you”
Till next time,
Sometimes, tragedy makes you appreciate what you have even more.
Why should it be that way though? Should we not be eternally grateful for all that we have? Should we not focus on the present and not the lacking?
A friend of mine recently lost his mother. This made me realize just how lucky I am and that I sometimes take my life for granted. I still have both my parents, I have working limbs, I have food, shelter and clothes on my back. I’m living and breathing. Some people out there have completely heart wrenching lives filled with pain and suffering. In that moment, I reflected on all the times I have complained or said I hate my parents or anything of that sort. In that moment, I was grateful.
Similarly, I had a short conversation with a girl I randomly met the other day. She was in a good mood, I was not. When I asked her exactly how she managed to be in such high spirits she replied: “there are no bad days, just bad moments”. When I asked her if she’s ever had a very bad day, you know the kind where you wake up late in the morning, forget your assignments, spill coffee on your shirt and generally everything goes wrong, she said: “Not really because every morning when I wake there has to be at least one thing I am grateful for”.
So ladies and gentleman, what are you grateful for?
When you wake up tomorrow morning, ask yourself that question. And the day after, and the one after that, and the one after that…
Till next time,
“The sun will come out tomorrow!” ~ Annie
I recently had the pleasure of reading Nelson Mandela’s favourite poem: Invictus by William Ernest Henley. It’s a beautiful piece of literature, understandably why it’s Madiba’s favourite poem. I shall leave you with my favourite lines that popped in my head a few minutes ago, which I thought I would share with you.
“I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.”
Have a great week!
TIll next time,