I try to arrange words in poems like an artist applies colors or a
musician places notes to shape music. I want my poems to have a life
distinctly their own and to outlive me.
"I used to think the brain was the most important organ in the body, until I realized who was telling me that." —Emo Phillips
My Solution to the Secret of Life:
I’ve
enjoyed a long, useful and relative happy life. I’ve found that the
best way to deal with great tragedy and loss is with great faith and a
hardy sense of humor. When that fails, resort to sheer, downright,
biting-the-bullet bravery.
There is no real secret to life,
but the key to happiness is to do what you love; love what you do; and,
if you just have to stick your head up someone’s butt, make sure it
isn’t your own.
Music helps, especially the music inside your
heart that you hear inside your head. Never, ever let them take away
the music in your heart. That’s your song. Avoid doctors and lawyers
if you can and lie about your pain, even to yourself. No one likes a
griper, not even God.
Oh yeah, learn to forget; it makes it
easier to forgive. What you don’t remember doesn’t hurt you. If you
were supposed to keep seeing what’s behind you, your eyes would be in
the back of your head. If you just can’t let it go, talk about it to
someone, or write about it, just to get it off your chest so you can
start living in the present.
Smile and laugh a lot. It takes
less energy and keeps you from looking like an idiot. When folks see
you smiling they think you know something they don’t and avoid
burdening you with their negativity.
If you do all the above you probably won’t live any longer but you’ll be happier, so it’s worth a shot.
