Regrets: He has none.

When he was a child
He was gentle and so mild

He had two who he called brother
One was bigger, one was smaller

He had a manly father
With who he had bother

They teased his softness
It was all so relentless

They called him a sissy
A girl and a pansy

But he showed them though
And became the tough bro

As he grew, inside he cried
As he grew, outside he lied

Inside he suffered brutally
Outside he offered brutality)

All his life he fought himself
Till it cost him all his health

Then he put the hurt away
Till over him it held no sway.

He allowed the inner out
It held much more clout

As he forgave his tormentor
To others he became a mentor

Becoming soft and gentle again
He could have no greater gain

He gained two grandkids
Which toughness forbids

With fun and care they play
And he thanks Christ
They know him no other way.

Ralph Waldo Emerson

“The voyage of the best ship is a zigzag line of a hundred tacks. See the line from a sufficient distance, and it straightens itself to the average tendency. Your genuine action will explain itself, and will explain your other genuine actions. Your conformity explains nothing. Act singly, and what you have already done singly will justify you now.”