What is Inspiration ?

A thing or person or a word - that gives us power is inspiration. Why is that inspiration so hard to catch for some people's ? Where as it is all around us in our daily life, in our daily activities. It sounds so good just by saying words Positive words like - "I am feel great today." or "What a beautiful day is it." or "This is my awesome day." or "Today is my perfect day." and so on.. Making positive words to ourself that can make us feel happy and eventually others around us too. Yes, it does inspire us to be positive.

Now, how it helps ? How it can solve our problems ? Does it really impact our life to keep our thoughts clean and positive ? Wow ! wait a second. so many question our mind will ask us. Before that just think why we can think ? Ans: Because we have brain. Why we have brain ? Ans is: To think what is correct and good for us. Exactly, If we can think this much. Why not the solutions of any problem in a positive way.

Optimistic person may be good some times. But Practical person with optimistic nature is 99% successful. 1% is always nature rule. Hence, keep our efforts in right direction. Give a try to what is right. See and evaluate things by our brain and heart. Surely we will be inspired by nature, people, things, words, sounds or even sometime the silence of our inner mind. All this can stimulate us and make use feel Good to do something creative in our life.

Read the Quotes of People who are mentor, who have done something in there life. And shown the way to live life for others. Nothing is more inspiring than this. And no one is more successful then people who follow the footprint of our own great idol. Act as they (our great idol) have said and show to this world.

After all William Shakespeare has said in — As You Like It, Act II, Scene VII Lines 139-166:
All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honor, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

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