: if ... by rudyard kipling :

... as most of you faithful readers know, I am in SW Ontario helping my parents to move into a nice two bedroom apartment. Never an easy task, but it looks like it will go alright, according to plan even. They were married 51 years ago last Sunday, so while they have downsized a bit over the years, this is still significant, as their retirement home is spacious and has a lifetime of 'stuff' in it.

... one thing I may bring home with me is a framed 'illumination' of Rudyard Kipling's poem ... IF. Kipling, a Nobel prize winner in Literature, wrote what became one of England's most loved poems back in 1895, but IF wasn't published until 1910 in a collection of his works, short stories and poems. IF made it in many ways ... from the Simpson's 'Old Money' episode to Apocalypse Now, to VW's current 'Das Auto' commercial and Fraser's 'Love Stinks' episode.

This poem hung in the front hall of the house I grew up in at 45 Weybourne Crescent, in NW London Ontario, from Grade 3 to when I got married. I remember many a time ... whether in deep, deep trouble, or just hanging out, waiting for someone supposedly coming by, to even a couple of introspective moments in high school, reading and loving this poem. So it made sense that IF I am only going to take one thing back to BC with me, it would be this. Have a slow, pleasant read, and see what you think. My re-reading of it again, last night, brought to mind some of the things I have learned ( the hard way ) and some of the things I aspire to, this next leg of the journey. I think there are applications, insights and gems of wisdom here for anyone ... leaders, followers, friends, family, people who exasperate us, people who motivate us. Enjoy.

dlc












If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you;
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too:
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise;

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim,
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two imposters just the same:
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools;

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss:
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: "Hold on!"

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much:
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!