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I keep on dying again.

So starts a little known poem by Maya Angelou and often- so starts the day. It is something that even the optimistic and blessed feel on bleak days like these.

Whether it’s going through the turnstile of the subway again or going through the motions again, we all have those days where the routine feels like it is draining away whatever strength we have left. And of course days like this will inevitably come along, when the first instinct after waking is to groan. But how do you put it into perspective? How do you rationalize out another uphill battle when you don’t even feel like making the climb?

I think one of the greatest challenges of inspired women are days that feel like emotional dry spells. And so this morning I am sharing Maya Angelou’s poem, “The Lesson” and hoping to send encouragement to you all.

I keep on dying again.
Veins collapse, opening like the
Small fists of sleeping
Children.
Memory of old tombs,
Rotting flesh and worms do
Not convince me against
The challenge. The years
And cold defeat live deep in
Lines along my face.
They dull my eyes, yet
I keep on dying,
Because I love to live.

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