Balance and Joy

I completed reading the book form of a collection of blogs by my friend and (now) his wife. Splendid!
Words that were once familiar to me, feelings that once embraced me, jump out of the book, from the lips of my friend and his wife. It is hard not to be moved. Words like joyous, frolic, goosebumps, yearning, memories, colours, love, passion, warmth, asong, sunshine, tumble out of the book in a torrent. I wonder why I try to protect myself from them sometimes. The fragrance of the sheer positivity and earnestness that so infused my mind while reading the book take me back to a time when they were my constant companions. It is difficult not to be swept away by all these refreshing thoughts. It is at times like this that I catch myself saying, "Life is Beautiful"

Here is a beautiful poem by Rudyard Kipling that I came across in the same book.
Moderation and Balance.
Equanimity.

If
- by Rudyard Kipling

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 impostors 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 wornout 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!