Good one, Fun2BHere, who knew pumpkins were so smart!

Rusty

Fun, you made me like pumpkins even more. :-)

"Sometimes you're the windshield and sometimes you're the bug"

At first glance that doesn't sound very encouraging to me, but after mulling it over, I decided it means that we all have good and bad days and to keep on keeping on.

I like to smile at the folks that I meet in passing, sometimes adding a greeting.

Some will smile back, and some make a reply.

Some may wonder what you're up to.

Maybe we old farts can get away with it when it might produce more suspicion in the recipient, were we younger.

Sometimes I offer something a bit humourous, and often people respond.

Sometimes then I say something like, "I figure that if one can put a smile on someone's face where there wasn't before, that it adds joy to the day!" and many say something in agreement.

Just now, at the library, where there's a line of computers, the fellow sitting next to me had a woman with him, and they were talking back and forth. I said something like, "Aren't you lucky - to have a back-seat driver!". They both laughed, and he said that it's more fun than working alone.

Hope you're having a day that's making you happy ... and that gives you some motivation to pass it on.

ole joyful

The Invitation
Oriah Mountain Dreamer

It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.

It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.

It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring your moon. I want to know if you have touched the centre of your own sorrow, if you have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shrivelled and closed from fear of further pain.

I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it, or fade it, or fix it.

I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own; if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, be realistic, remember the limitations of being human.

It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself. If you can bear the accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul. If you can be faithless and therefore trustworthy.

I want to know if you can see Beauty even when it is not pretty every day. And if you can source your own life from its presence.

I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand at the edge of the lake and shout to the silver of the full moon, 'Yes.'

It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after the night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done to feed the children.

It doesn't interest me who you know or how you came to be here. I want to know if you will stand in the centre of the fire with me and not shrink back.

It doesn't interest me where or what or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.

I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in the empty moments.

Very interesting link, Rob333, thanks for posting it.

Rusty

Sure! They went on to include that poem in book known as The Invitation