Donald Trump – seriously!?

I think there has been enough talk about Trump, The Donald, Racist Pyscho Disaster Man. All I shall say is “Americans, that guy? Seriously!?”

But the election lead me to look at past Presidents and remind myself of a special speech made by one of them. The 26th to be exact. Theodore Roosevelt. Not only did he name one of his children Kermit (thank you to Wikipedia for that fact) but he also said this…

“It is not the critic who counts; not the man who points out how the strong man stumbles, or where the doer of deeds could have done them better. The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”

I have made no secret of the fact that I have lost my way a bit over the last year or so but this represents the strength that I would love to have and the strength I strive to inspire in others. Get on the horse. Make the mistakes. Be not good enough and try harder. That is what riding is all about, that is what life is all about. But do it – get into the arena!

I have decided to print the speech off and put it by my front door and read it every morning this week and see if it makes a difference. Perhaps you would like to join me? 

What quote, speech, phrase is going to inspire you this week?

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2 comments

  1. IF you can keep your head when all about you
    Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
    If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
    But make allowance for their doubting too;
    If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
    Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
    Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
    And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

    If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
    If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
    If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
    And treat those two impostors just the same;
    If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
    Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
    Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
    And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

    If you can make one heap of all your winnings
    And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
    And lose, and start again at your beginnings
    And never breathe a word about your loss;
    If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
    To serve your turn long after they are gone,
    And so hold on when there is nothing in you
    Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

    If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue, Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
    if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
    If all men count with you, but none too much;
    If you can fill the unforgiving minute
    With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
    Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
    And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!

  2. It Couldn’t Be Done

    Somebody said that it couldn’t be done,
    But, he with a chuckle replied
    That “maybe it couldn’t,” but he would be one
    Who wouldn’t say so till he’d tried.
    So he buckled right in with the trace of a grin
    On his face. If he worried he hid it.
    He started to sing as he tackled the thing
    That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

    Somebody scoffed: “Oh, you’ll never do that;
    At least no one has done it”;
    But he took off his coat and he took off his hat,
    And the first thing we knew he’d begun it.
    With a lift of his chin and a bit of a grin,
    Without any doubting or quiddit,
    He started to sing as he tackled the thing
    That couldn’t be done, and he did it.

    There are thousands to tell you it cannot be done,
    There are thousands to prophesy failure;
    There are thousands to point out to you one by one,
    The dangers that wait to assail you.
    But just buckle it in with a bit of a grin,
    Just take off your coat and go to it;
    Just start to sing as you tackle the thing
    That “couldn’t be done,” and you’ll do it.
    by Edgar Albert Guest

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