On the eve of forty-nine, I’m moved to pen some rhyming lines
That show, before the year has turned, a few small things that I have learned.
No one needs a hoard of stuff. Life is simpler with enough.
If it doesn’t make you smile, toss it in the garbage pile,
Or give it to a Goodwill store. Someone there will love it more.
Also, chuck your lesser fears and go explore some new frontiers.
Sing in public. Learn to dance. Wear some really ugly pants.
No one cares. They’re more concerned with all those judging them in turn.
Do yourself a giant favor: act like you’re a little braver.
Don’t surround yourself with pain. “Happy” can’t survive the strain.
People who can’t stop complaining just aren’t very entertaining.
Trade them in for those whose brighter outlook makes your soul feel lighter.
So there’s a bit of common sense that something forced me to dispense.
I hope that I will still be here at this time in another year,
Looking fifty up the nose and wearing much, much smaller clothes.
I’ll say goodnight and leave you with some final words of Barb-ly wisdom:
Use your gifts, your heart, your grace to make the world a better place.
Remember that sincere compassion isn’t ever out of fashion.