What’s good?
Getting up again.
Failing
and getting up again.
Embarrassing yourself
and choosing
again
to get up
and try.
What’s good?
Feeling pain
and choosing
all the same
to try
again.
What’s good?
Feeling embarrassed
and trying again.
What’s good?
Choosing to go on,
feeling your pain,
and choosing
to accept it there,
not hating it,
or feeding it,
but going on
and trying as you can.
That’s true.
So
you are
where you are.
So
you’re not perfect.
So
you feel unhappy.
So
you know
it’ll pass.
So
you know
you’ve felt this before
a thousand times
and it’s passed
every time.
And so you know
you play your part,
and,
if you want,
can help yourself
in not aggravating
the pain,
but accepting
its presence
and,
if you can,
distracting
yourself
from it
with what you love,
work
you enjoy,
or looking
at the sky
and moving
on.
It’ll pass,
you’re okay.
So you can imagine
whoever it is,
who you think
perfect
or happy.
You can think that.
But you know
it’s illusory,
a convenient excuse
to worsen your pain,
to make it seems just,
reasonable,
as if you don’t decide,
or have no choice here,
(or that those you imagine
don’t either);
that happiness
falls on you
or it doesn’t;
that we don’t make
our happiness,
that it’s something
out of our control;
but you know
that’s false,
and you’ll suffer if
you believe it.
So you can think
anything at all;
so you can think
about what
hurts the most,
imagine what you desire,
the people you think
enjoy these things
as if obvious,
going of itself,
excitement,
fun,
purpose,
and the rest;
you can think that;
but you know
it’s false;
fuel for
a vain fire
you make.
You control
what counts.
You control
what makes you
you.
You decide
again
and again
who you are
in resisting
the worst
ideas
that tempt you.
You decide,
and the rest will come.
You decide
what counts.
Do you think
having what you desire
is
what counts?
as if it was
just received
without work,
without courage?
Every moment
you choose.
You can think anything.
You can think
what causes you pain,
or you can think
what brings you joy,
a desire to work
and to dare.
You choose.
The painful thoughts
are easier
and they work
because they spare us
the difficulty
of daring,
of working,
the difficult work
of hope,
the risk
of giving.
What’s easy
attracts
but spoils
quickly.
What’s difficult
reveals
what we know
already
but fear
because hard,
imposing.
We evade
to no end,
preparing
our punishment
blindly.
Work saves
(the work
that’s love,
the love
that’s work).
(The silent
and immobile
too;
where there’s
resistance,
difficulty,
courage,
love.)
Gray Haskins 