Climbing The Tree Of Hope (Tell His Story)

 Despair's been big on my mind lately, and I try to keep it warded off with long-term projects. Not easy to do when you're tied to an oxygen hose and having a Diet Coke really hurts the gut, but there you go.

It's tempting, sometimes, to over-reach, to get to ambitious for the day's abilities, on the theory that it's better to aim high and miss the mark than aim low and make it.

Pardon my French, but bollocks.

A failed attempt, however noble, is still a failure, and builds a foundation of doubt.

A small success, however small, is success, and builds a foundation of confidence.

And sitting here with the pain and fatigue and incontinence (truth hurts!), I need to build confidence, and never discouragement.

Climbing up the tree of hope,

so slender and so tall;

tie yourself off with a rope,

for if you slip and fall

it's a long way to that hard cold ground,

and tough to get back up,

and one thing in this life I've found,

that caution's a grace-cup

to hold you in the tired hours,

when you're apt to take a chance 

for which you do not have the powers

to keep footing and balance.

It's not weakness to stop and rest;

that pause may be you at your best.

Sylvia says, yeah, pause and have some ice cream!

 

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