June 23, 2022
“Not how long, but how well you have lived is the main thing.”
I keep finding ways to enrich my life, I hope you do as well. I attend as many activities as I can hande. I dine with many different friends and acquaintances. In other words I add as much to my days as I can handle. I also do what I can for others and life goes on. So do what you can and enjoy what you do.
Life is to be lived. No excuses. No reservations. No holding back.
An enchanting story about violinist Fritz Kreisler tells how he once came across a beautiful instrument he wanted to acquire. When he finally raised the money for the violin, he returned to buy it and learned that it had already been sold to a collector.
He went to the new owner’s home in order to try to persuade him to sell the violin. But the collector said it was one of his prized possessions and he could not let it go. The disappointed Kreisler turned to leave, but then asked a favour. ‘May I play the instrument once more before it is consigned to silence?’
Permission was granted and the great musician began to play. The violin sang out a quality of music so beautiful that the collector himself could only listen in wonderment. ‘I have no right to keep that to myself,’ he said after the musician finished. ‘The violin is yours, Mr. Kreisler. Take it into world, and let people hear it.’
William Arthur Ward said, ‘If you believe in prayer, pray; if you believe in serving, serve; if you believe in giving, give. For you and I are exquisite violins – our music is meant to be heard.’
I want to live my life that way – to take it into the world and live it fully. I’d rather burn out than rust out. I’d rather be used up than die not having done whatever I could . . . wherever I would.
I’m not talking about wearing ourselves out on over-activity. Happiness is never found in excessive busyness. But it is found in investing our lives in others. Saying yes when asked for a hand. Volunteering some time for a worthwhile organization. Spending an hour with a lonely relative.
In the end, I know that my happiness will not have been about by my ability or my inability. It will have been about my availability. My life is meant to be lived.
Written by Steve Goodier
“Go confidently in the direction of your dreams! Live the life you’ve imagined.”
Henry David Thoreau
(Now at Camp Pendleton, San Diego, Marine Corps Recruit Training)
Dear Ma and Pa:
I am well. Hope you are too. Tell Brother Walt and Brother Elmer that the Marine Corps beats working for old man Minch by a mile. Tell them to join up quick before all of the places are filled.
I was restless at first because you got to stay in bed till nearly 6 a.m., but I am getting so I like to sleep late.
Tell Walt and Elmer all you do before breakfast is smooth your cot and shine some things. No hogs to slop, feed to pitch, mash to mix, wood to split, fire to lay… practically nothing.
Men got to shave but it’s not so bad… there’s warm water.
Breakfast is strong on trimmings like fruit juice, cereal, eggs, bacon, etc., but kind of weak on chops, potatoes, ham, steak, fried eggplant, pie, and other regular food.
Tell Walt and Elmer you can always sit by the two city boys that live on coffee. Their food plus yours holds you ’til noon when you get fed again. It’s no wonder these city boys can’t walk much.
We go on “route marches,” which the platoon sergeant says are long walks to harden us. If he thinks so, it’s not my place to tell him different. A “route march” is about as far as to our mailbox at home.
Then the city guys get sore feet and we all ride back in trucks.
The country is nice but awful flat. The sergeant is like a school teacher. He nags a lot. The captain is like the school board. Majors and colonels just ride around and frown. They don’t bother you none.
This next will kill Walt and Elmer with laughing. I keep getting medals for shooting. I don’t know why. The bulls-eye is near as big as a chipmunk head and don’t move, and it ain’t shooting at you like the Higgett boys at home. All you got to do is lie there all comfortable and hit it. You don’t even load your own cartridges. They come in boxes.
Then we have what they call hand-to-hand combat training. You get to wrestle with them city boys. I have to be real careful though, they break real easy.
It ain’t like fighting with that ole bull at home. I’m about the best they got in this except for that Tug Jordan from over in Silver Lake. I only beat him once. He joined up the same time as me, but I’m only 5’6″ and 130 pounds and he’s 6’8″ and near 300 pounds dry.
Be sure to tell Walt and Elmer to hurry and join up before other fellers get onto this setup and come stampeding on in.
Your loving daughter,
Every man’s work, whether it be literature or music or pictures or anything else, is always a portrait of himself, and the more he tries to conceal himself the more clearly will his character appear in spite of him.
Perhaps you’ve heard of the man who thought he was dead, when in reality he was very much alive. His delusion became such a problem that his family finally paid for him to see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist spent many laborious sessions trying to convince the man he was still alive. Nothing seemed to work.
Finally the doctor tried one last approach. He took out his medical books and proceeded to show the patient that dead men don’t bleed. After hours of tedious study, the patient seemed convinced that dead men don’t bleed.
“Do you now agree that dead men don’t bleed?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, I do,” the patient replied.
“Very well, then,” the doctor said.
He took out a pin and pricked the patient’s finger. Out came a trickle of blood.
The doctor asked, “What does that tell you?”
“Oh my goodness!” the patient exclaimed as he stared incredulously at his finger… “Dead men do bleed!!”
Traffic was so bad on the freeway, I had to stop twice to make car payments.
Returning home from work, a not-so-bright blonde was shocked to find her house ransacked and burglarized. She telephoned the police at once and reported the crime. The police dispatcher broadcast the call on the channels, and a K-9 unit patrolling nearby was the first to respond.
As the K-9 officer approached the house with his dog on a leash, the blonde ran out on the porch, shuddered at the sight of the cop and his dog, and then sat down on the steps.
Putting her face in her hands, she moaned,
“Can it get any worse than this? I come home to find all my possessions stolen. I call the police for help, and what do they do?
They send me a BLIND policeman!”
Love the life you live. Live the life you love.
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