Dziś miałam napad self-regowej weny twórczej, której efekty przedstawiam Wam poniżej. Wkrótce skończę kurs Self-Reg drugiego stopnia, który pozwoli mi współprowadzić (facylitować) szkolenia MEHRIT Centre. W module 21 omawiamy wiersz Rudyarda Kiplinga „If” w kontekście rozróżnienia między samokontrolą a samoregulacją. Kiedy go czytałam, poczułam dreszcz, ponieważ ten wiersz, opiewający samokontrolę, przepisałam do mojego dziennika w dniu moich osiemnastych urodzin. Potraktowałam go jako motto, które będzie mi przyświecało w dorosłym życiu. Dyskutując na temat wiersza, Stuart Shanker i jego prawa ręka, Susan Hopkins rzucili lekko, że należałoby stworzyć jego self-regową wersję. I to też postanowiłam zrobić. Poniżej zamieściłam oryginalną i moją własną wersję utworu.

„If” by Rudyard Kipling 

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream—and not make dreams your master;
If you can think—and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ’em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings—nor lose the common touch,
If neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And—which is more—you’ll be a Man, my son!

„If” by DyleMatka

If you can keep your blue brain when all about you
Are throwing limbic utterances and blaming it on you,
If you can trust your soft eyes when all people doubt you,
But make allowance for their mindset too;
If you can wait – or reframe your own urges
Or being lied to, see the stress behind the lies
Or being told “I hate you” – hear “I need you” that resurges
And yet don’t act as though you are so wise.

If you can feel – and regulate your emotions;
If you can think – and know that it’s just thoughts;
If you can meet with rising tension oceans
And look at Thayer, and drop all “shoulds” and “oughts”.
If you can hear the Self-Reg word you’ve spoken
Twisted by those who are in the red brain
So as to make you look too soft and broken
And yet be gentle, and reframe once again.

If you can risk and not listen to others
Who say you lack grit and self-discipline;
If you reduce your stress and that of all your brothers
So you can thrive, not cope, and aim at a win-win.
If you can feel you heart and nerve and sinew
Get weaker, and you don’t push them through,
But take a break instead, do what is in you
And when restored, do what you have to do.

If you can talk with crowds, yet hear your inner voice
Or walk with Kings, yet follow your own path;
If you read social cues and make a conscious choice
Whether to go see friends or take a bubble bath.
If you can make a pause and practice mindful breathing
Instead of always being on the run;
You make the Earth a better place for living.
Calm and alert, you do Self-Reg, my son!

Zdjęcie wykorzystane w tym wpisie: „Mother and Son” (CC BY-ND 2.0) by Shanon Wise