I thought I’d post Max Ehrmann’s “Desiderata” by itself because it deserves just that: its own place. I first encountered the poem–a prose poem, actually–in I think 1971, and it struck me as beautiful even in my 13-year-old eyes.
It is morning here on the East Coast.
Here’s something to ponder: I think if you’re in a tight spot, it’s important to seek out people who may have experienced similar sorts of things and understand what you are going through. Sometimes, they are the only ones with whom you can share your true emotions.
In my case, they understand why I don’t eat because they’ve been through it themselves.
The comfort I feel in knowing this carries me through my day.