Waou
Ce matin, il fait un temps de ch* mais c'est pas grave, mon agrégateur de flux ioiotte grave, et a décidé que 30 messages d'un éminent blogueur méritaient d'être (re)lus.
Agacée, j'ai commencé à supprimer les doublons et triplettes (mais pas de Belleville), quand mon oeil s'est arrêté sur un titre qui m'a réveillée brutalement "Ecrire, écrire et écrire... sur le Web entre autres". Je ne me souvenais pas l'avoir lu ce billet là . Donc j'ouvre, je me régale et je vous en coupe une petite tranche.
Quand on commence à écrire, on commence à penser. Lire, c'est être au courant des idées des autres. Écrire, c'est construire sa propre pensée. Ça vient de Paul Le Bohec, un instituteur breton de 86 ans et auteur de L'école réparatrice de destins.
Si vous voulez lire tout le billet de Mario Asselin, c'est là :
Ecrire, écrire et écrire... sur le Web entre autres
Et comme ma copine anglaise m'envoie un courriel délicieux, je vous le copie aussi (attention c'est en anglais et j'ai la flemme de traduire..). En résumé cela dit que dans la vie, ce qui est important, c'est ce qu'on donne.
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.
I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being. She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?'
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze.
'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked.
She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...'
'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
'I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!' she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.
We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.
Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began,
' We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!
There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.
If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.
Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.
The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.'
Agacée, j'ai commencé à supprimer les doublons et triplettes (mais pas de Belleville), quand mon oeil s'est arrêté sur un titre qui m'a réveillée brutalement "Ecrire, écrire et écrire... sur le Web entre autres". Je ne me souvenais pas l'avoir lu ce billet là . Donc j'ouvre, je me régale et je vous en coupe une petite tranche.
Quand on commence à écrire, on commence à penser. Lire, c'est être au courant des idées des autres. Écrire, c'est construire sa propre pensée. Ça vient de Paul Le Bohec, un instituteur breton de 86 ans et auteur de L'école réparatrice de destins.
Si vous voulez lire tout le billet de Mario Asselin, c'est là :
Ecrire, écrire et écrire... sur le Web entre autres
Et comme ma copine anglaise m'envoie un courriel délicieux, je vous le copie aussi (attention c'est en anglais et j'ai la flemme de traduire..). En résumé cela dit que dans la vie, ce qui est important, c'est ce qu'on donne.
The first day of school our professor introduced himself and challenged us to get to know someone we didn't already know. I stood up to look around when a gentle hand touched my shoulder.
I turned around to find a wrinkled, little old lady beaming up at me with a smile that lit up her entire being. She said, 'Hi handsome. My name is Rose. I'm eighty-seven years old. Can I give you a hug?'
I laughed and enthusiastically responded, 'Of course you may!' and she gave me a giant squeeze.
'Why are you in college at such a young, innocent age?' I asked.
She jokingly replied, 'I'm here to meet a rich husband, get married, and have a couple of kids...'
'No seriously,' I asked. I was curious what may have motivated her to be taking on this challenge at her age.
'I always dreamed of having a college education and now I'm getting one!' she told me.
After class we walked to the student union building and shared a chocolate milkshake.
We became instant friends. Every day for the next three months we would leave class together and talk nonstop. I was always mesmerized listening to this 'time machine' as she shared her wisdom and experience with me.
Over the course of the year, Rose became a campus icon and she easily made friends wherever she went. She loved to dress up and she reveled in the attention bestowed upon her from the other students. She was living it up.
At the end of the semester we invited Rose to speak at our football banquet. I'll never forget what she taught us. She was introduced and stepped up to the podium. As she began to deliver her prepared speech, she dropped her three by five cards on the floor.
Frustrated and a little embarrassed she leaned into the microphone and simply said, 'I'm sorry I'm so jittery. I gave up beer for Lent and this whiskey is killing me! I'll never get my speech back in order so let me just tell you what I know.'
As we laughed she cleared her throat and began,
' We do not stop playing because we are old; we grow old because we stop playing. There are only four secrets to staying young, being happy, and achieving success. You have to laugh and find humor every day. You've got to have a dream. When you lose your dreams, you die. We have so many people walking around who are dead and don't even know it!
There is a huge difference between growing older and growing up.
If you are nineteen years old and lie in bed for one full year and don't do one productive thing, you will turn twenty years old. If I am eighty-seven years old and stay in bed for a year and never do anything I will turn eighty-eight.
Anybody can grow older. That doesn't take any talent or ability. The idea is to grow up by always finding opportunity in change. Have no regrets.
The elderly usually don't have regrets for what we did, but rather for things we did not do. The only people who fear death are those with regrets.'