Let us greet each new day with no rules; with
unconditional opportunity. Do not dilute the
power of this new day with the hardship of
yesterday but greet
this day the way it has greeted us; with open
arms and endless possibility.
irony of life is that, by the time we decide to enjoy life, we are too
old to do it.
of us after having spent many years working to live, spend many more
years living to work; and when finally there is no more work we don't
know how to live. Let us learn from the following inspiring narrative.
As the story goes, in a hot sun, salty air, rhythmic waves, a little boy is on his knees scooping and packing the sand with plastic shovels into a
bright blue bucket. Then he upends the bucket on
the surface and lifts it. And, to the delight of
the little architect, a castle tower is created. All
afternoon he will work. Spooning out the moat
(water surrounding the castle).
Packing the walls. Bottle tops will be sentries.
Popsicle sticks will be bridges. A sandcastle
will be built.
In a big city, busy streets, rumbling traffic,
a man is in his office. At his desk he shuffles
papers into stacks and delegates assignments. He
cradles the phone on his shoulder and punches
the keyboard with his fingers. Numbers are
juggled and contracts are signed and much to the
delight of the man, a profit is made. All his
life he will work. Formulating the plans.
Forecasting the future. Annuities will be
sentries. Capital gains will be bridges. An
empire will be built.
Two builders of two castles. They have much in
common. They shape ordinary into extraordinary. They
see nothing and make something. They are
diligent and determined. And for both the tide
will rise and the end will come.
Yet that is where the similarities cease. For
the boy sees the end while the man ignores it.
Watch the boy as the dusk approaches.
As the waves near, the wise child jumps to his
feet and begins to clap. There is no sorrow, no
fear, no regret. He knew this would happen. He
is not surprised. And when the great breaker
crashes into his castle and his masterpiece is
sucked into the sea, he smiles. He smiles, picks
up his tools, takes his father's hand, and goes
The grownup, however, is not so wise. As the
wave of years collapses on his castle he is
terrified. He hovers over the sandy monument to
protect it. He blocks the waves from the walls
he has made. Salt-water soaked and shivering he
snarls at the incoming tide.
"It's my castle," he defies.
The ocean need not respond. Both know to whom
the sand belongs...
I don't know much about sandcastles. But
children do. Watch them and learn. Go ahead and
build, but build with a child's heart. When the
sunsets and the tides take - applaud. Salute the
process of life and go home.
Finish each day and be done with it. You have
done what you could. Some blunders and
absurdities no doubt crept in; forget them as
soon as you can. Tomorrow is a new day. You
shall begin it serenely and with too high a
spirit to be encumbered with your old nonsense.
By Tim Pedrosa
Without dreams we
reach nothing. Without love, we feel nothing. And without God, we are
work hard, stay focused, and surround yourself with good people.