by Marie | Oct 8, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
Optimists tend to believe that life is mostly good; pessimists, that it’s mostly bad. Life is both. And only those who embrace that truth are able to find fulfilment. Why? Because those who accept it but don’t embrace it become apathetic, meeting every difficulty with a shrug and a sigh. They may survive, but they won’t be successful. To succeed you must be proactive, in bad times as well as good. If you examine the lives of successful people you’ll discover they always do what’s right no matter how they feel, and by doing right—they end up feeling good. On the other hand, unsuccessful people tend to wait to feel good before they do what’s right. As a result, they neither do what’s right nor feel good. Often you won’t feel like doing the right thing, but you need to do it anyway. Nelson Mandela said: ‘I have discovered the secret that after climbing a great hill, one finds many more hills to climb. I have taken a moment here to rest, to steal a view of the glorious vista that surrounds me, to look back on the distance I have come. But I can rest only for a moment, for with freedom come responsibilities, and I dare not linger, for my long walk is not yet ended.’ If you
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by Marie | Oct 7, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
In May 1996, ValuJet flight 592 crashed into the Florida Everglades, killing 110 passengers. Navy experts tried using special technology to detect the plane’s black box, without success. Holding a rope that kept them spaced three feet apart, searchers poked through every square foot of muck. After fourteen days they had found nothing. The physical conditions were unbearable. The sun beat down upon them and temperatures hovered in the nineties, floated in the water, forcing searchers to wear several layers of protective rubber. Fourteen days of that had left them dehydrated, but they had to find the black box. Sergeant Felix Jimenez of Metro-Dade Police was one of the searchers. For fourteen days he’d prayed for the bereaved families and the safety of his fellow workers. But on the fifteenth day as he took a break, suddenly he realised he’d failed to pray for one important thing: that God would help them find the black box. So he asked God for direction, resumed the search, and when he stuck his pole into the water he hit something metallic. He pulled the object out of the muck. It was the black box. Jimenez writes in Guideposts: ‘I thought of the many days we had spent searching for the recorder, how we must have tramped over it many times, and I wondered why
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by Marie | Oct 6, 2025 | Archives, Featured
You can write things like that out there. Or perhaps, anywhere. It is possible if one allots time, real time. I truly believe we need to escape each day. Have time to ourselves, with ourselves, to go purposefully within ourselves. With that, many things occur. One recharges, not their smartphone battery, but more importantly, their own eternal battery. One detoxes from the day-to-day grind of society, removing the pollution of negativity and stress. Tapping into the vital life force that can be found only in the inner realms, one gets back on the path to one’s True self. Like the energizer bunny, one is able to keep going and going and going…body revived, soul restored, spirit renewed. One has to allot time each day for this. If not, your chain slips, breaks, and no real forward momentum develops. As I’m clipped into my pedals while turning over the 53 tooth crank, I think of my late father, friends that died too soon, kids in wheelchairs. Grateful that I can. Not taking health or life for granted. My father was killed in a tragic potash mine accident when I was five. October 17th, 1968. I’m sure the thought never crossed his mind that he wouldn’t have an October 18th, 1968. Or, that plate of bacon and eggs cooked by mom would
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by Marie | Oct 4, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
Have you ever done something that just engulfs your body? You feel totally alive? Cycling is one of those for me. Some time ago I was asked: “Miles, why do you love cycling so much?” At the time I really didn’thave an answer, or the correct one. Shortly after, I realized that it was an event with my brother. I was six, perhaps seven, and had just learned to ride a bike. Weeks later, he [then fifteen or sixteen] said, “We are cycling to Grandma and Grandpa’s.” From Greystone Heights to Richmond Heights. Down busy College Drive, over a bridge and a river. Six miles each way. A Thursday night. My mind was racing. Heart pumping furiously. Fear. Excitement. Breathless. I still remember, to this day, thekaleidoscope of emotions. I remember thinking, “I must keep up to him and I can’t fall over.” My little legs turned those pedals. We made it home safely. Each and every time I get in the saddle, those emotions course through me.Excitement. Fear. Alive. Being in the moment, present, the timeless Now. A tour de force of the mind, body and soul. There are times that I ride to push my limits. Throwing my body into chaos.Tapping into the vast storehouse of unlimited, unmanifested human potential. How far can I push the body? This
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by Marie | Oct 3, 2025 | Archives, Inspiration
Can You Recognize A Bully? You may think you can recognize me, but I guarantee if you’re not watching or listening very close, you won’t. Your attention will be down the hall, watching those other two girls shouting, arguing over a boy’s call. If you were watching or listening real close, you might recognize me in her face. She’s the one you have come to expect, bouncing down the halls, with that big contagious smile. The one with the laughter that comes from someplace down deep; a laughter that echoes throughout your soul. However, if you were looking and listening, just a little closer, though very subtle, you would notice something missing. Like a single missed note in an entire orchestra of instruments, the musician would most certainly know he missed a note. The composer too, for his ears are highly sensitive and well trained. Her smile a little forced, her laughter now shallow, with no echoes left behind. Her sparkle, her light, now a little dim and not nearly as bright. Do you recognize me yet? Are her tears really from laughing, as she claims? If you were looking close, you would notice me, the bully, in her tears. You won’t see any bruises, scrapes or bumps; they’re hidden too well. I’m careful to place them, in just the
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