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You do not know what it is like to be me. You do not know my pain, my regrets, my sorrows, but then you do not know the causes of my joy, the passions of my heart, nor the song of my life. You are not me. I am a book with pages missing. Mark carefully what interests you, the chapters hold my dreams, and the story is not over.
Here's a story on how strange is life with its changes And it happened not long ago. On a high mountain plain, where the sagebrush arranges A playground south of the snow Lived a lamb with a coat of remarkable sheen, It would glint in the sunlight all sparkly and clean, Such a source of great pride that it caused him to preen. And he'd break out in high stepp'n dance. He would dance for his neighbors across the way. I must say that they found his dancin' enhancin', For they'd also join in the play.
Then one day ...
Then a-boundin' up the slope Came a great American jackalope. This sage of the sage, this rare hare of hope, Caused to pause and check out the lamb. "Hey kid, why the mope?"
"I used to be something all covered with fluff, And I'd dance in the sunlight and show off my stuff, Then they hauled me away in a manner quite rough And sheared me and dropped me back here in the buff. And if that's not enough Now my friends all laugh at me Cause they think I look ridiculous, funny, and pink."
"Pink? Pink? Well, what's wrong with pink? Seems you've got a pink kink in your think. Does it matter what color? Well, that gets nope. Be it pink purple or heliotrope. Now sometimes you're up and sometimes you're down, When you find that you're down well just look around: You still got a body, good legs and fine feet, Get your head in the right place and hey, you're complete!
"Now as for the dancin', you can do more, You can reach great heights, in fact you can soar. You just get a leg up and ya slap it on down, And you'll find you're up in what's called a bound. Bound, bound, and rebound. Bound and you're up right next to the sky, And I think you can do it if you give it a try, First get a leg up, slap it on down ..."
So every year, along about May, They'd load him up and they'd haul him away, And they'd shave him and dump him all naked and bare. He learned to live with it, he didn't care, He'd just bound, bound, bound, and rebound.
Now in this world of ups and downs ... So nice to know there are jackalopes around.
Pollyanna's Glad Game
Spread a little good cheer with this great game that helps you to focus on the glad, not the bad. Your heart--and everyone who knows you--will be grateful. It only takes a minute. You can play this game when you're driving in your car, or taking a walk, or sitting at your computer--pretty much under any circumstances. Start small: just think of ONE THING that you're glad for. Maybe it's the taste of the special coffee that Aunt Ruth from Winnetka sent you for Christmas. Maybe it's the fact that the holidays are over. Perhaps you have a new love in your life, or an interesting new project to work on. Or you could be glad for your family, or your dog or cat. Really think about whatever it is for a moment. Allow yourself to smile over it. Feel your heart open and glow with gratitude for whatever it is. That's it. But tomorrow, try thinking of two things you're really, truly glad for. Expand the field of your gratitude every day. Really take time to appreciate the many many blessings you enjoy. You're alive: you have the capacity to be a beneficial and positive presence on the planet. You are needed--or you wouldn't be here. Enjoy this life that you have been given! And be glad.
What power art though Who from below Hast made me rise Unwillingly and slow From beds of everlasting snow?
Seest though not, how stiff and wondrous old, Far unfit to bear the bitter cold?
I can scarcely move Or draw my breath
Let me freeze again to death
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