This is to show appreciation for Rhonda Byrne and her team, who took the initiative to share this power with the rest of the world. Rhonda you changed my life for good, you inspired me and increased my power, love, gratitude, happiness, and richness. You brought me closer and closer to the supreme power, I feel it in me every moment of my life now, and I am using it to achieve what I want, share it with others and helping them, like you do, to improve their lives and the whole world.
I would like to share the following words from:
RWE.org – The Complete Works of Ralph Waldo Emerson – Volume VIII – Letters and Social Aims (1876)
Written by Ralph Waldo Emerson
MEN are made up of potences. We are magnets in an iron globe. We have keys to all doors. We are all inventors, each sailing out on a voyage of discovery, guided each by a private chart, of which there is no duplicate. The world is all gates, all opportunities, strings of tension waiting to be struck ; the earth sensitive as iodine to light ; the most plastic and impressionable medium, alive to every touch, and, whether searched by the plough of Adam, the sword of Caesar, the boat of Columbus, the telescope of Galileo, or the surveyor’s chain of Picard, or the submarine telegraph, to every one of these experiments it makes a gracious response. I am benefited by every observation of a victory of man over nature, – by seeing that wisdom is bet-ter than strength ; by seeing that every healthy and resolute man is an organizer, a method coming into a confusion and drawing order out of it. We are touched and cheered by every such example. We like to see the inexhaustible riches of Nature, and the access of every soul to her magazines. These examples wake an infinite hope, and call every man to emulation. A low, hopeless spirit puts out the eyes ; scepticism is slow suicide. A philosophy which sees only the worst ; believes neither in virtue nor in genius ; which says ‘t is all of no use, life is eating us up, ‘t is only question who shall be last devoured, – dispirits us ; the sky shuts down before us. A Schopenhauer, with logic and learning and wit, teaching pessimism, – teaching that this is the worst of all possible worlds, and inferring that sleep is better than waking, and death than sleep, – all the talent in the world cannot save him from being odious. But if, instead of these negatives, you give me affirmatives, – if you tell me that there is always life for the living ; that what man has done man can do ; that this world belongs to the energetic; that there is always a way to everything desirable ; that every man is provided, in the new bias of his faculty, with a key to nature, and that man only rightly knows himself as far as he has experimented on things, – I am invigorated, put into genial and working temper ; the horizon opens, and we are full of good-will and gratitude to the Cause of Causes. I like the sentiment of the poor woman who, coming from a wretched garret in an inland manufacturing town for the first time to the sea-shore, gazing at the ocean, said “she was glad for once in her life to see something which there was enough of.”
‘Our Copernican globe is a great factory or shop of power, with its rotating constellations, times, and tides. The machine is of colossal size ; the diameter of the water-wheel, the arms of the levers, and the volley of the battery, out of all mechanic measure ; and it takes long to understand its parts and its workings. This pump never sucks ; these screws are never loose ; this machine is never out of gear. The vat, the piston, the wheels and tires, never wear out, but are self-repairing. Is there any load which water cannot lift ? If there be, try steam ; or if not that, try electricity. Is there any exhausting of these means ? Measure by barrels the spending of the brook that runs through your field. Nothing is great but the inexhaustible wealth of Nature. She shows us only surfaces, but she is million fathoms deep. What spaces ! what durations ! deahng with races as merely preparations of somewhat to follow ; or, in humanity, mil-lions of lives of men to collect the first observations on which our astronomy is built ; millions of lives to add only sentiments and guesses, which at last, gathered in by an ear of sensibility, make the furniture of the poet. See how children build up a language ; how every traveller, every laborer, every impatient boss, who sharply shortens the phrase or the word to give his order quicker, reducing it to the lowest possible terms, – and there it must stay, – improves the national tongue. What power does Nature not owe to her duration of amassing infinitesimals into cosmical forces !…..
It is easy to see that there is no limit to the chapter of Resources. I have not, in all these rambling sketches, gone beyond the beginning of my list. Resources of Man, – it is the inventory of the world, the roll of arts and sciences; it is the whole of memory, the whole of invention ; it is all the power of passion, the majesty of virtue, and the omnipotence of will.
But the one fact that shines through all this plenitude of powers is, that, as is the receiver, so is the gift; that all these acquisitions are victories of the good brain and brave heart ; that the world be-longs to the energetic, belongs to the wise. It is in vain to make a paradise but for good men. The tropics are one vast garden ; yet man is more miserably fed and conditioned there than in the cold and stingy zones. The healthy, the civil, the industrious,. the learned, the moral race, – Nature herself only yields her secret to these. And the resources of America and its future will be immense only to wise and virtuous men.