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Avoid Dying Slowly

Every now and then I let my ‘inner lazy guy’ out. And today is one such day. It’s a bank holiday in Ireland and I’m feeling like limiting my writing. I watch out for poems that strike a chord and this one below by Brazilian writer, Martha Medeiros, hits the mark on many levels. A surprising amount of leaders I know enjoy poetry and for 1 minute of your time, this particular one has a high return on investment, if you’re open.

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“Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought

and the thought has found words.”

– Robert Frost

Every now and then I let my ‘inner lazy guy’ out.

And today is one such day. It’s a bank holiday in Ireland and I’m feeling like limiting my writing. I watch out for poems that strike a chord and this one below by Brazilian writer, Martha Medeiros, hits the mark on many levels.

A surprising amount of leaders I know enjoy poetry and for 1 minute of your time, this particular one has a high return on investment, if you’re open.

Die slowly – Poem by Martha Medeiros

He who becomes the slave of habit,

who follows the same routines every day, who never changes brand,

who does not risk and change the colour of his clothes,

who does not talk to people he doesn’t know

dies slowly.

He who makes television his guru

dies slowly.

He or she who shuns passion, who prefers black on white,

and the dots on the “i” to a whirlpool of emotions,

precisely those that recover the gleam of the eyes,

smiles from the yawns, hearts from the stumbling and feelings

dies slowly.

He or she who does not turn things topsy-turvy,

who is unhappy at work, who does not risk certainty for uncertainty, to thus follow a dream,

those who do not forego sound advice at least once in their lives,

die slowly.

He who does not travel, who does not read,

who can not hear music,

who does not find grace in himself,

dies slowly.

He who slowly destroys his self love,

who does not allow himself to be helped,

who spends days on end complaining about his own bad luck,

about the rain that never stops,

dies slowly.

He or she who abandon a project before starting it,

who fail to ask questions on subjects he doesn’t know,

he or she who don’t reply when they are asked something they do know,

die slowly.

Let’s avoid death in small doses,

reminding oneself that being alive requires an effort far greater than the simple fact of breathing.

Only a burning patience will lead to the attainment of a splendid happiness.

If you’ve read the poem, what strikes a chord for you?

What inspiration can you take from it, to make a positive change in your week ahead?

Best,

Shane


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