Enjoy And Appreciate The Roses — Despite The Thorns

“You have to believe that who you are is okay now but also that you are capable and deserving of being something more, different, and better. You have to believe that even when others don’t believe in you and your ambitions and your perspective, that their opinions do not have to be your reality. And you have to believe that you have more good days than bad days if you’d just count your blessings more. Your perspective is everything so choose it wisely. “

Thought Catalog

Perspective. It’s a word that gets thrown around quite a bit. And I am probably one of the worst offenders. But I am unapologetic about it, because I believe that people as a whole, need better perspective. Life isn’t a bed of roses, and even if it were, roses still have thorns; thorns that could potentially hurt you. But perspective is being able to enjoy and appreciate the roses in one’s life, despite the thorns.

I have never met a person who didn’t have disappointments. I have also never met a person who hasn’t failed at something. I’d go as far as saying some of the people who I look up to the most – including my parents and siblings – have failed terribly. But the reason why I look up to certain people over others is that they don’t allow their failures to define them or make them bitter…

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Addie

“That was when I learned that words are no good; that words don’t ever fit even what they are trying to get at. When he was born I knew that motherhood was invented by someone who had to have a word for it because the one that had the children didn’t care whether there was a word for it or not. I knew that fear was invented by someone that had never had the fear; pride, who never had the pride. I knew that it had been, not that they had dirty noses, but that we had had to use one another by words like spiders dangling by their mouth from a beam, swinging and twisting and never touchingm and that only through the blows of the switch could my blood and their blood flow as one stream. I knew that it had been, not that my aloneness had to be violated over and over each day, but that it had never been violated until Cash came. Not even by Anse in the nights.
He had a word, too. Love, he called it. But I had been used to words for a long time. I knew that that word was like the others: just a shape to fill the lack; that when the right time came, you wouldn’t need a word for that anymore than pride or fear.”
As I Lay Dying, William Faulkner.