Never Too Late
"When you have exhausted all possibilities, remember this — you haven't." – Thomas A. EdisonArchive for July 30, 2008
TFTD
You know Beethoven? He said….
It is the power of music to carry one directly into the mental state of the composer. The listener has no choice. It is like hypnotism.
Very, very true.
This is what I wold love, love, love to have my words do…
It is the power of words to carry one directly into the mental state of the writer. The reader has no choice. It is like hypnotism.
TFTD
Value-added, value-known.
You know the value of every article of merchandise,
but if you don’t know the value of your own soul,
it’s all foolishness.
You’ve come to know the fortunate and the inauspicious stars;
but you don’t know whether you yourself are fortunate or unclean.
This, this is the essence of all sciences -
that you should know who you will be when Judgment Day arrives.
- Rumi
The tao of driving–VIII
That hurts
When I drive, I hold the steering wheel, loosely, at 7 o’clock. Mostly. I can’t hold it at 10 and 2, at least for a long time.
Why?
It hurts.
If I put too tight a grip on the wheel, it only takes a few seconds before my hands hurt from gripping it. So I change my hand position to guide the wheel, not grip it to death like I see other drivers doing.
I can’t put a tight grip on my steering wheel. I can’t put a tight grip on anything, or anyone.
Interior design
(This post was inspired by a chat with a friend and academic.)
I’ve seen a couple of stories where people have build 20,000 square foot houses, only to sell them because they are too big. Or their grown kids aren’t there to fill it out. (The bowling alley, gym and movie theater aren’t enough)
I can build the biggest, most beautiful house in the world. But if I have nothing to fill it with, what does it mean, in the end?
I can live in the most humble, tar-paper-shingle, shotgun shack. But if I fill the house with love, heart and spirit, the outside matters little if the inside is strong.
I can wear a shirt and tie. An Emmitt Smith jersey. A Charlie Brown shirt. Pants with pleats and cuffs. It doesn’t matter. Even if I don’t, at the very least, cultivate and nourish my heart, my soul, my spirit give to someone else, what does what I look like, or the house I’m in, matter?
Not a damn thing.
The furniture in my house does more than matter. It is everything.
(Breathe in) Ahhh….
There is so much that I am
There is so much I can be
I look still
But the waters in me flow
Like a mighty river
Trust me
I have tried to see it from another perspective, another way.
But I always come back to the place where I am now.
And I am not holding on tight. It–the thoughts, the feelings, the love that remain for someone who does not feel the way I do–is there. Simply. I’ve always allowed it to just be. And it is, just being.
I can’t do what is called for because I don’t have it in me. What I do have in me is wholeness, richness, depth.
Why should I give less than that if I don’t have less in me?
My soil is rich and nourishing. That is what remains, and that I what I give.
Seeing is believing
What am I?
Am I a mountain? Strong, majestic, but easily scaled?
Am I an iceberg? Surface showing, but the real beauty lying below the surface?
How about both?
The mountain is strong, stable. The iceberg, do you know what an iceberg is? Water. And do you know want water does?
It gives nourishment.
