It took me for a while not to compare myself to others. While I was examining, analysing where I am with my life compared to others I always felt that I’m not good enough, not successful enough. It always turned out that there are people much more beautiful, better, cleverer, more talented so I always had opponents. Then as I let these thoughts go and started to appreciate, to love, to pay attention to myself I tried to experience the present and make the best possible decisions, it turned out the my sole opponent had been me. My constant dissatisfaction and self-scolding were in the way, and I also realized that I only have to deal with my own destiny because I’m only responsible for that. /Agatha Seymour/
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When All Seems Lost — and Even When It Doesn’t… As a writer, I read more than average. Not necessarily books that fall within my immediate interests, but rather those I can learn from, marvel at, analyze word by word, and sometimes even those that demand more effort from me than usual. That is how it is with Alice Munro. I bought my first book by her when she received the Nobel Prize. Then life happened, and the volume sat on my bookshelf—either I had no time for it, or it lingered somewhere at the bottom of my list of priorities. When I finally picked it up, I could hardly believe my eyes—or my reaction. First, I was utterly outraged; my blood pressure shot through the roof in an instant, and I almost started swearing in disbelief. I had barely skimmed the first few lines, yet that was enough to know: it was perfect. A true masterpiece. Excellence among the excellent. Every word reached the deepest layers of my soul. I was touched by its purity, its delicacy, the noblest simpli...
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