I love serendipity. “I am the master of my fate, I am the captain of my soul” has been a favorite quote of mine since I read it in Napoleon Hill’s Think and Grow Rich, but I had forgotten the original source (if I ever knew it).

Serendipity #1: My wife gave me a birthday card (day before yesterday) with this quote on it, not knowing it was one of my favorite quotes.

Serendipity #2: The new movie Invictus is coming out, about Nelson Mandela’s campaign to host the 1995 Rugby World Cup as an opportunity to unite the country. Seeing the ad on TV a couple of times tonight, I kept thinking the word “invictus” was familiar. But my Latin is rusty, so I looked it up on Wikipedia, where I learned that it means “unconquered” in Latin, and that it’s also the title of an 1875 poem by William Ernest Henley:

Invictus

Out of the night that covers me,
Black as the Pit from pole to pole,
I thank whatever gods may be
For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance
I have not winced nor cried aloud.
Under the bludgeonings of chance
My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears
Looms but the Horror of the shade,
And yet the menace of the years
Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,
How charged with punishments the scroll
I am the master of my fate:
I am the captain of my soul.

- William Ernest Henley

What is your locus of control? Are you a victim of circumstances? The whims and desires of other people? Or are you in charge of your life? Guess what? On average, those who have an internal locus of control are physically and mentally healthier, happier, and more successful. If you want those things (and who doesn’t), step up and take charge – don’t wait for it to happen to you. You are the master of your fate; you are the captain of your soul.

Friday night I attended a screening of The Shadow Effect (which I highly recommend –- more on that later). In it, Debbie Ford quotes a poem by 13-century poet and mystic Rumi. I was deeply moved by its call for us to all embrace the diversity of the human experience. All too often in our incessant pursuit of happiness we miss the greater fulfillment of experiencing a variety of emotions and knowing that they are all part of the beautiful bigger picture of our lies.

The Guest House

This being human is a guest house.
Every morning a new arrival.

A joy, a depression, a meanness,
some momentary awareness comes
as an unexpected visitor.

Welcome and entertain them all!
Even if they are a crowd of sorrows,
who violently sweep your house
empty of its furniture,
still, treat each guest honorably.
He may be clearing you out
for some new delight.

The dark thought, the shame, the malice.
meet them at the door laughing and invite them in.

Be grateful for whatever comes.
because each has been sent
as a guide from beyond.

– Jelaluddin Rumi,
   translation by Coleman Barks

Image by by Poorfish via flickr

A few weeks ago on Twitter, I heard about the Austin Makes a Book project, a book that will be crowdsourced for both content and funding. I’m already a published nonfiction author, but I’ve always wanted to have some of my poetry published as well, so this seemed like the perfect opportunity. If you’re interested in participating, they’re accepting submissions as of today, and they’re taking the first 100, so get in while you can.

Here’s my submission, which I wrote a few years ago after a trip to the Museum of Modern Art in Houston: (more…)

Actually, he didn’t – it was about two years ago. But my friend Mindy Audlin’s dog Ted did just pass away, and she wrote a beautiful tribute on her blog, Remembering Ted. Reading it, of course, brought up all those old feelings in me. I wrote a poem at the time Buster passed that was very cathartic, and I had never had a “personal” place to post this, so I thought I would now.

Buster Died Today

Buster died today.
His time had come.
As I lay on the floor with him,
He leaned his head against me,

And I knew.

Still, having him put to sleep
Was the hardest choice I ever made,
And holding him as he died,
The hardest thing I ever did.

We spent the afternoon…remembering.

Someone got under my skin tonight. I’m unashamed of the fact that I try to maintain a positive outlook on life, and some people apparently have a problem with that. Life’s too short to suffer fools. This all reminded me of my very favorite poem, by Emily Dickinson:

I had no time to hate, because
The grave would hinder me,
And life was not so ample I
Could finish enmity.

Nor had I time to love, but since
Some industry must be,
The little toil of love, I thought,
Was large enough for me.

Ever stayed up really, really late working on something to the point of exhaustion, and you pass out for just a few minutes, and when you wake up, you’ve got a second wind? This was from one of those nights.

In the silence
Heavy eyelids
Fall, but consciously.
Drifting thoughts
And mental notes
Escape — they now are free.

Waves of wind
Blow through my mind –
Brush away the sand.
Soul awakens!
Moments taken
Cradled in God’s hand.

Image credit: bushkov