Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all (wo)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 (mistress)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(Queens)—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all (wo)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 (Wo)Man, my (daughter)son
➨Yeah right – idealised, neat theory. All this serves to do is make me stay focused and be extra sparkly, with a mere hint, a mere drizzle of irritation creeping around the periphery.
➨Much better to mutter the following while licking my (very small) wound:-
💜You torment yourself wondering
how they could not love your
and the answer is darling,
You are not the star
you thought you were
You are the fucking universe
and not everyone is an astronaut.💜
➨Hell-to-the-yesssssss. No idea who to credit for these fine words, but it lifts me right back up to fly with the eagles…..Golden ones naturally, sipping fizz and dancing the Watusi before takeoff.
➨Anyhow, in the great scheme of my Invisibility Myth theory, does this little knock back make me feel invisible? No. Not even on a bad day. It reminds me that shit happens. Would it make you feel invisible? I hope not. This colourful life needs your smiles.
➨Oh yeah, not long till my website will be running, so I can share all the wonderful stories and photos i’m gathering. It would appear that I am in the very zeitgeist of a new movement.
➨Think I need to stop now….
💜Peace and Loveage Beautiful Humans.💜
|What unadorned, sun kissed 60 really looks like!
A friend describes Jeanie as an adventurer of the heart and mind. A 60 year old with a lust for life, she is a mother, decorative artist, designer, traveller, Airbnb host and ex-restaurateur. Currently she is studying a Humanities Degree, having self-educated since leaving school at 16 and working on a book; The Invisibility Myth, exploring how extraordinary ordinary older women see themselves in the 21st century.
She lives in West London and France with her husband, boomeranging children and a variety of other animals.
|Chairman Jeanie philosophy