When nothing seems to help
look at the stonecutter hammering away at his rock
perhaps a 100 times without a single crack
Yet at 101 times, it will split in two
know it was not that blow that did it
but all that had gone before
The Stonecutter's Final Blow
“When nothing seems to help I go back and look at the stonecutter hammering away at his rock perhaps a hundred times without as much as a crack showing in it. Yet at the hundred and first blow it will split in two, and I know it was not that blow that did it, but all that had gone before.”
I think of all the moments in my life, my memories, my hopes and fears, and all the ups and downs both real and imagined.
I am haunted by the idea that one truly fails only after giving up or worse not even starting, trying and risking. I think of all the stories describing each and every aspect of the human condition and human experience.
Mostly we read stories about winners. We revel in them. Those are really stories from survivors.
A success story’s long tale
is really
a long-tailed survivor story.
Why should we care?
If an ancestor of ours had called it quits, shrugged his or her shoulders, then maybe we would not exist.
We wouldn't have the luxuries we take for granted, including surrender.
There's a difference between giving in to ennui and frustration versus surrendering to the powers-that-be after trying it all.
The former follows a resistance that comes before even really trying and the latter fulfills a resolve after doing your best.
The gift of our existence comes with
the privilege of getting up after stumbling AND
the responsibility of attacking whatever rock we have chosen or has befallen us.
We either let the rock defeat us with hardly any effort, or we strike again and again with everything in our hearts.
We are stonecutters.