There may come a feeling within you that there is no God, no Hell to punish the wicked, no Heaven to reward the good — do good anyway.
There may be a ragged woman with a cup on the sidewalk, asking for change, who may just spend it on booze and drugs — give her some change anyway.
There may be a man who swears at you on the road, after you have spent your day getting your soul crushed at work again — give him a smile instead of a finger anyway.
There may be someone on the bus next to you who needs to talk to someone, and who rambles and complains and says nothing you want to hear — listen patiently anyway.
There may be coworkers who gossip, and loaf, and are too stupid to empty a trash can with the directions printed on the bottom — be nice to them anyway.
There may be a time your song is lost in the noise of the street and the din of the crowd — sing at the top of your lungs anyway.
There may be a hungry child in front of you who will be fed by the loaf in your hand for no more than a day — give her the bread anyway.
Then there was the whole “sporadic” thing. Sometimes my mind wandered in odd directions.
There may be a woman who keens with the voice of a tortured spirit, when she finds her children dead, all dead, and no kind words can ever heal her — tell her kind words anyway.
There may be a friend on life support who has lost all awareness, and cannot know that you hold their hand, or stroke their hair, or rifle through their stuff — sit and hold their hand anyway.
Or odder directions…
There may be blood on the floor that is not yours, and not your fault this time, and no one will notice if you walk away quickly — mop up the blood anyway.
There may be a day when you get home to more dead bodies in the basement than you think you can deal with, and you can’t figure out where to put them in the back yard — bury the bodies anyway.
Or just rambled off at random with no apparent pattern…
There may be a time when it seems like your comrades-in-arms have ceased to care about you, or anything, and you feel you have lost all connections — stand with them anyway.
There may be a time when the cause is lost, and the enemy is coming over the hill in ever greater numbers, and the only wise move is to flee, leaving the wounded and civilians to slow down the enemy with their deaths — instead form up, howl the old battle cries, and charge like there is no tomorrow anyway.
And sometimes things got a little self-serving.
There may be writings of yours that no one praises, acknowledges, or even glances through — write more stuff anyway.
There may come a Medium story that is odd, disjointed, and marked as Humor even though you can’t see anything funny about it — click on the Recommend icon anyway.
My wife (who loves me very much) read through this. Her opinion: “Seriously?!!”