Our Greatest Fear

Our Greatest Fear 
Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate.
Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure.
It is our light not our darkness that most frightens us.
We ask ourselves, who am I to be brilliant, gorgeous, talented and fabulous?
Actually, who are you not to be?
You are a child of God.
Your playing small does not serve the world.
There’s nothing enlightened about shrinking so that other people won’t feel insecure around you.
We were born to make manifest the glory of
God that is within us.
It’s not just in some of us; it’s in everyone.
And as we let our own light shine,
we unconsciously give other people
permission to do the same.
As we are liberated from our own fear,
Our presence automatically liberates others.
MarianneWilliamson 

Genius Child

This is a song for the
genius child. Sing it softly, for the song is wild. 
Sing it softly as ever you can – 
Lest the song get out of hand. 
Nobody loves a genius child.
Can you love an eagle,
Tame or wild? Can you love an eagle,  

Wild or tame? 
Can you love a monster 
Of frightening name? 
Nobody loves a genius child.
Kill him – and let his soul run wild.
Langston Hughes

Still I Rise 

You may write me down in history 
With your bitter, twisted lies, 
You may tread me in the very dirt 
But still, like dust, I’ll rise.
Does my sassiness upset you? 
Why are you beset with gloom? 
‘Cause I walk like I’ve got oil wells 
Pumping in my living room.
Just like moons and like suns, 
With the certainty of tides, 
Just like hopes springing high, 
Still I’ll rise.
Did you want to see me broken? 
Bowed head and lowered eyes? 
Shoulders falling down like teardrops. 
Weakened by my soulful cries.
Does my haughtiness offend you? 
Don’t you take it awful hard 
‘Cause I laugh like I’ve got gold mines 
Diggin’ in my own back yard.
You may shoot me with your words, 
You may cut me with your eyes, 
You may kill me with your hatefulness, 
But still, like air, I’ll rise.
Does my sexiness upset you? 
Does it come as a surprise 
That I dance like I’ve got diamonds 
At the meeting of my thighs?
Out of the huts of history’s shame 
I rise 
Up from a past that’s rooted in pain 
I rise 
I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, 
Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. 
Leaving behind nights of terror and fear 
I rise 
Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear 
I rise 
Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, 
I am the dream and the hope of the slave. 
I rise 
I rise 
I rise.
 Maya Angelou 

The road not taken 

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Robert Frost