Let the sleeping dogs lie

Is it true that the most creative works are produced when a person faces two extreme emotions of life – happiness and sorrow? Is that when a person is forced to introspect and search for answers to questions beyond reason? Should we really let the sleeping dogs lie or should we dissect the root cause?

In my opinion, some mysteries of life are meant to be unsolved. Sometimes we get so involved in slicing and dicing the rationale that we forget to live in the present moment. Take sorrow for instance; the deeper you probe, the unhappier you get. Rhetorical questions like “why me?” only lead you to a grave bout of depression. An old adage says, “If life gives you a lemon, make lemonade”. People who see a silver lining admit the dark and dreary clouds, rise from the ashes like phoenix.

Same logic applies to happiness; the who, what, when and why have no meaning. It is vital to bask in glory of the present and enjoy each moment for all it is worth. Do not let the demons of past plague you or do not think about what might happen tomorrow. Think about today and thank the good lord for the blessed day. As Tal Ben-Shahar says:
“Positive thinkers lead happier lives, not in the sense of experiencing pleasure – of moving from one immediate gratification to the next - but in the sense of leading a meaningful and fulfilling life, of flourishing emotionally, spiritually and intellectually”.

In conclusion, let the sleeping dogs lie and wake up to the smell of fresh coffee …


Henry Wadsworth Longfellow (1807-1882):

A PSALM OF LIFE

Tell me not, in mournful numbers,
Life is but an empty dream! —
For the soul is dead that slumbers,
And things are not what they seem.

Life is real!
Life is earnest!
And the grave is not its goal;
Dust thou art, to dust returnest,
Was not spoken of the soul.

Not enjoyment, and not sorrow,
Is our destined end or way;
But to act, that each tomorrow
Find us farther than today.

Art is long, and Time is fleeting,
And our hearts, though stout and brave,
Still, like muffled drums, are beating
Funeral marches to the grave.

In the world's broad field of battle,
In the bivouac of Life,
Be not like dumb, driven cattle!
Be a hero in the strife!

Trust no Future, howe'er pleasant!
Let the dead Past bury its dead!
Act,— act in the living Present !
Heart within, and God o'erhead !

Lives of great men all remind us
We can make our lives sublime,
And, departing, leave behind us
Footprints on the sands of time ;

Footprints, that perhaps another,
Sailing o'er life's solemn main,
A forlorn and shipwrecked brother,
Seeing, shall take heart again.

Let us, then, be up and doing,
With a heart for any fate;
Still achieving, still pursuing,
Learn to labor and to wait.