I’ve been reflecting on the Jessup regional round here on Saturday morning. The bench I watched, led by Andrew Bruce SC approached the problem from a very pragmatic and practical approach.
As I mentioned in my last post, this years problem shows some very potent defects when investigated from that perspective. I thought it would be worthwhile to post the best question I heard that day on here.
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It’s late and I’m tired. I ought to go to sleep. Yet this is one of those peculiar moments in life when the last thing I want to do is go to sleep. Instead I have this itch to write, an itch I’ve been feeling all day, incessantly tingling in my fingers.
I have a quandary though. I don’t believe that anything today is really worth writing about. Don’t get me wrong, its been an awesome day, and one that I have enjoyed from start to finish in all of its very different aspects. But none of it outstanding, none of it that has the tinge of being a life altering or life defining moment.
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To laugh often and much;
to win the respect of intelligent people
and the affection of children;
to earn the appreciation of honest critics
and endure the betrayal of false friends;
to appreciate beauty, to find the best in others;
to leave the world a bit better,
whether by a healthy child, a garden patch
or a redeemed social condition;
to know even one life has breathed easier because you
have lived. This is to have succeeded.
— Ralph Waldo Emerson
To see a World in a Grain of Sand
And a Heaven in a Wild Flower,
Hold Infinity in the palm of your hand
And Eternity in an hour.
Auguries of Innocence by William Blake
There’s something about sand that makes a man philosophical. To grab a fist full and watch it fall out of every crack and crevice, blowing onto infinity and some returning to where it started.
I find myself wandering down strange paths.
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In another world, in another context, things would have been different. They wouldn’t have turned out this way. Its a treasure to realise how nearly, how so very nearly, they could have been different. How thin that line is between deprivation and plenty.
These choices we make, I make, you make, they define our lives. Our history is not inevitable, it is decided by us. Consciously and sub-consciously. Step by step. That is what makes it our history. No one else could have found their way to this place.
I’m gonna see our history from the bright side of this life. I’m going to take these moments down as a treasure. Because, as someone once said to me, 90% of life is what you make of what happens to you.