You wouldn’t diss Hova for being well-read, would you? Didn’t think so.

I should check out “The Seat of the Soul.” Meanwhile, I’ve got six of my own…

The Alchemist, Zen and the Art of Poker, The Hero and the Blues, Manual of the Warrior of Light, Introvert Power and Invisible Man

6 Books That Made A Difference To Jay-Z: A Rapper’s Take On Life And Spirituality | FinerMinds.

Wake Up Tiger: ME.

I’m feeling better now, thanks.

I read this story, and I wonder…

Why do we devalue intelligent black men?

A young boy, gone, because he tried to be good, different from the other kids in his neighborhood.

Why? Such a damn waste.

But why do we devalue intelligent black men?

It’s almost if–if I don’t play ball well, dance well, sing well, have women draped all over me, I have no value to society.

An attitude that leaves me enraged.

How dare anyone say that because I’m smart, and have a “different attitude,” my value as a man, as a human being, is somehow diminished.

It makes me so angry that I want to cry. And I am.

I make no apologies for my smarts. I don’t even want to imagine the alternative. I value deeply my ability to think. And that lets me act appropriately, smartly. And there’s something wrong with that? Are you kidding me?

Because other people may attempt to devalue me, does not give me permission to devalue myself. Simple as that. I have value, I have worth. I am capable of so much. Society, other people, may try to strip those from me. They can’t take away what is inside me.

I am a fully formed, fully vested human being. An intelligent black man. And proudly so.

Beaten teen had ‘different attitude’ than other boys, activist says – CNN.com.

For all the running around we do, and getting on the hamster wheel as if we’re actually going somewhere, stopping for a few moments, being still and just being has its advantages…

Heath Benefits of Meditation.

I loved this entry, especially about halfway down. Introvert is not the same as shy or timid. I can’t you the number of times I’ve been to parties, hung back, surveyed the scene and had a great time. The dumbest thing I can do is slip a mask on and try to shoot fireworks out of my ass. Do yo know how much that hurts?

The day of your transformation: Hand death certificate to your timidity and shyness.

There is a connection from what I wrote in my last post to the post below…

See people for both the best and the worst in them, and love them anyways.

When you go into any relationship, romantic or whatever, you have to see your partner as human, capable of great and not-so-great things. Don’t be closed to romanticism, but don’t be blinded by it either.

I know you–all about you–and I love you just the same.

Why Bad Things Happen to Positive People | Seeing Good.

The boat has been burned.

The boat I burned back in January seemed like it was going to be a difficult one to burn. And some days are more difficult than others. But I can only imagine the pain and the suffering if I had left the boat intact on the shore. I would have had to lie about my feelings, tell someone an out-and-out lie about where my heart was–and not be able to complain about it.

Eight months later, I’m still not going to lie about where my heart is. Remarkably, my heart remains in the same place it has. There’s no sadness in my heart–disappointment, yes. I’m realistic enough to know you can’t wave a magic wand and have who wold make my heart happy.

Even though my heart remains in the same place, it doesn’t mean I haven’t grown–I have. I said no, I’m not going to lie to what my heart tells me. Saying no sometimes is the hardest thing to do. But I had to say it. For my dignity, I had to say it. The person I said no to, I still care about deeply–obviously. Saying no, I won’t lie to my heart for you.

Namaste

The little, small moments of life are sometimes best. Listening to Miles Davis play “Someday My Prince Will Come” while listening to the rain fall is one of those moments.

Earlier this week, I went back to school. Again.

I walked up a flight of stairs that began on the outside of the building. Then I inside the old cafeteria (I guess I walked through the walls magically) near the ceiling. Then I walked more stairs and out to the main hall. I walked through, past the library, where I ended up talking to some old classmates.

Why do I keep ending up back in school?

—–

Back in the 1990s, there was this Seattle band. Not them, or them either. Queensryche only had two hit songs, “Jet City Woman” and “Silent Lucidity.” The last one stands out because it’s a song comforting a child after a dream. And when you read the lyrics, it is a map for what a dream can do and where it can take you.

If you open your mind for me
You won’t rely on open eyes to see
The walls you built within
Come tumbling down, and a new world will begin

—–

What new world is beginning for me in these dreams? Where am I going?

What he wants for Christmas…

Amazon.com: The Complete Columbia Album Collection (Amazon.com Exclusive): Miles Davis: Music.

When reading this, it’s clear the author hasn’t delved too deeply into the subject of introversion, just a glossing over. (A trance? Really? Ye gods.) There are plenty of articles that define the area well. I’m sure the author means well, but they treat introversion as a disease, something to be treated and cured. And yes, we are capable of sustaining a relationship.

Introvert Partners : Why they are so – What to do ?.

The process of self-discovery is just that–a process. Processes usually mean something that is continuing, ongoing. And the cool thing and process and discovery is this little nugget–you are never sure what will be discovered next.

“The real innovators in music are also students of it. To say that ‘innovators’ arrive on the scene at 19 and make it all up out of the blue is a falsehood. That, to me, has to be discussed more in the academic world.”–Branford Marsalis

“My first task is to help students reject 18 years of poor learning that teaches them that knowledge is a product rather than a process.”–Branford Marsalis

When swapping wallets this morning, I found something I had copied down a few years ago. I can’t remember where it came from, but it is will worth remembering…

Conscious faith is freedom
Instinctive faith is slavery
Mechanical faith is madness
Conscious hope is strength
Emotional hope is cowardice
Mechanical hope is sickness
Conscious love arouses love
Emotional love arouses the unexpected
Mechanical love arouses hate

“All the art of living lies in a fine mingling of letting go and holding on.” — Henry Elli

(hat tip)

“Any intelligent fool can make things bigger, more complex, and more violent. It takes a touch of genius – and a lot of courage – to move in the opposite direction.” - E.F. Schumacker

(hat tip)

I remember the black men I was around when I was growing up, and I think back to their examples as something to emulate. They were strong, quiet men who never raised a fuss for its own sake. They loved their families and took care of them the best way they could. They had a strong sense of who they were, and if something tried to violate that sense, they reminded the offender of where the line was. They were, are still are, beacons of light to me for how to treat others, and how to treat myself.

This has been a weird week, a week where it seems as if incivility has ruled the day. No, not really–we are more aware of what we and everyone else says. We’ve always had a streak of incivility.

Obama Calls Kanye a ‘Jackass’ — The Audio | TMZ.com.

Dr. Ruth Westheimer always said that the sexiest part of anybody’s body.

To accomplish self-control, the seeker is taught even in the midst of enjoyment to direct that sense of enjoyment upward to the brain. He should try to feel that sensory pleasure is feeding his inner joy at its source in the Self.

The joy in sex shouldn’t just be about the physical, but the spiritual, too.

Tall order, I know, but it can be done.

Sexuality & Self-Control « Relax Meditate Smile.

Life is a conscious exercise that has to be practiced everyday. Just because you graduated from this school or that college or some program doesn’t mean the learning’s over. The lessons you learned must now be lived. And lived everyday.

Riffing more on people’s hair being on fire…

All the things I’m doing, I’m doing are not for my personal gain or to to spite you. I am doing them because they are the right things to do. What drives me are not hatefulness, or evil, or, again, spite. What drives me is this.

When I was in the Boy Scouts and camping, our scout leaders would remind us to leave the campsite better than we found it. Meaning that no trash or any other sign of us being there was to be left. If there was trash from another group of campers, that got picked up. If we saw a trail that needed improving and cleanup, yep, we got that to. It’s nature–you don’t ruin it for others, or yourself.

Live this life so that when your days on this earth are done, in 60 or 70 years, you leave it better than you found it.

Lately, in my country, more than a few people are sitting their hair on fire. Infernos, if you like. Apparently there are those who aren’t liking the idea of a black president.

Yes, all the chatter has me concerned, but I’m not going to set my own hair on fire out of mere sympathy. But I’m not going to talk about politics. You can’t fly off the handle with every single slight and arrow that will be thrown at you. Every time that someone tries to strip you of your humanity, emasculate your soul, that is a call to strengthen your soul, your humanity. And sometimes that means not doing the things that some people expect you to do. Refusing to be a punching bag for anyone.

When others what to drag you down, that is your signal to blossom, set your roots even deeper.

You may be called a robot, distant, aloof, arrogant. Your body, and your mind, and your soul, are stronger enough to handle such blows.

Your humanity, your soul remain the center of who you are.

Of all the rules on this list, the last one is most important.

Respect.

Introvert Owner’s Manual – Fun After Work is Done.

This is a life-affirming way to say that a significant portion is ok. We are unique and viable and have so much to go to society and those we love. IN our own special way.

Adventuring Solo: Introversion Is Not a Disease.

We all want to go somewhere–different, exotic, beautiful. Sometimes you go places in your dreams and you wonder, how did I get here. Like dreaming about the South, a place with ramshackle houses, dirt roads, dodgy people and verdant green fields. Or even closer to home, waking up to a guy on a motorcycle speeding around your apartment complex. In the middle of the night. It seems it’s never dull inside my head.

The next time you’re in the New york area, take the train from Newark Penn Station to New York Penn Station. You go through the tunnel underneath the Hudson, and as you slowly pop into daylight, look to you left. You’ll see a building with the words New Yorker emblazoned in red on the top of the building. Unfortunately, it’s a hotel and not the magazine. Then the train ducks back underground and pulls up to the platform. You step out and slowly make your way up to Penn Station, where the only reminders of that once-great station are photographs of its splendor. Now walk toward the 7th Avenue exit. You walk up the steps with the rest of humanity, and then you hit the sidewalk and stop. The rush of humanity washes over you like walking through a waterfall. The rush of the people and the energy of the city are contagious and a little overwhelming. Now, you can dive into the roiling cauldron of humanity and watch the city be the city in all its glorious mayhem.

The leaden skies overhead this morning are in sharp contrast to the bright, clear skies of that morning. A friend of mine, who worked across the street from the World Trade Center, had the presence of mind to buy a disposable camera on his way out of the building that day. What I remember was there wasn’t a cloud in the sky that day, save the smoke billowing from the towers. I also remember another picture, of a woman and her little boy, joining the exodus walking north from downtown, and the terror etched across his face.
——
A year later, our company had a small observation of the anniversary in the office. We were supposed to gather in the conference room. I didn’t. Not because I harbored some deep-seated anti-American feeling, but because I would have cried my eyes out. So I went outside, and stood and watch the day continue on.
—–
There are six hours of that day, six hours after the last tower fell, that I simply don’t remember. I was working too hard, I guess. Trying to forget what I saw on TV, 3,600 miles from home.

… A little.

When I lived in Brussels, some of the best nights I had were at parties held by friends and strangers alike. Many a night I stumbled home at 3, 4, or  5 in the morning, smile on my face from the afterglow of a good soiree. And yes, even back then I was an introvert. Some of us do like a good party…

The Introvert’s Party Predicament | Psychology Today.

I’m not really into the third thing, but the first two I can understand.

Glorious Nonsense: ‘Introvert Power!’.

I’m not much of a visual artist, but even I can tell this is just an awful design for an arena, especially one in Brooklyn. I’m willing to bet that the New Jersey Nets will be staying in New Jersey for a while.

New Design Unveiled for Atlantic Yards Arena – City Room Blog – NYTimes.com.

When I was in college, I had a professor who pushed me to be a better student than I was. She saw potential in me, and made me push myself to reach it. I’m not a fossil, and this wasn’t that many years ago. I watch this (again and again and again) and wonder have things really changed that much? Or was I just, different?

I don’t think you ever stop being a student, not matter if you are out of school or not.

Bobby Bowden, the head football coach at Florida State University, is one of the winningest coaches in the college football. But at 79, you’d think he want to retire, put his feet up and relax. No, not really. When asked when he’ll hang up his headset, he remarked that if he retired, there’s only one big event left after that.

No need for me to tell you what that is.

I think it’s a hallmark of a steady hand to keep your head while everyone else is losing theirs. Case in point.

The best revenge may not be revenge at all, but simple grace.

There I was last night, asleep, but dreaming. Dreaming of my old elementary school, and walking through the halls (how narrow they are since I’ve grown up). And then I walked into the school’s annex, this huge building twice the school of the original building. I’m just walking through, taking note of the space, and seeing the water around the building. And then, a former boss pulls up in an airboat and offers to take me back to the main building. I hope aboard and the dream ends.

I know that three makes a trend, but two nights and two dreams of home have me thinking. Why am I dreaming of home? What is home? I’ve had the dream of this building before–why has it come up again?

What is home? Is it a physical place, the place I grew up? Or is it something different, a state of mind or a state of being?

What did that water mean? And what about my boss (I hate dreaming about work)?

Questions, questions, questions. What are the answers? Hmm, not sure, but I guess I’ll have to dream some more to find out.

I liked this article about introversion, but I only wish the writer had sourced the original material. There’s more in there that’s well worth reading…

The human mind is a remarkable machine. It can gin up images and world never visited, and places relegated to the dusty shelves of memory.

There I was, in the library of my old elementary school. It was crowded, but with adults and not children. And they were milling about, buzzing happily. For some reason, there were a lot of Dallas Cowboys books there. But that wasn’t the thing. There I was, in this library, and I was thinking of someone. A love lost. And even in this dream, I wasn’t surprised I was thinking about this love. The setting was surprising, but not the thought.

I’m glad that I had this dream overnight.

Look at the man in the picture. A plain-looking man, right?

With his bland face and steady ways, he might have tried to sell you insurance. … But inside his head, in thousands of tales and ballads handed down for five centuries, lived kings, witches, demons and mermaids. … Under Mr Robertson’s modest cover was the best storyteller in Scotland.

Mr. Robertson’s story belies the notion that our covers don’t tell the entire breadth of our imaginations. A simple fishmonger, simple on the surface at least, who conjures up vast, fantastic worlds to set the imagination ablaze.

: Stanley Robertson | The Economist.

Starting from when I was a child, I’ve lived in nine different abodes.

Actually, make that 10.

The tenth place is my body. I may never own a house as important as the one I carry around every day. So I have to lift weights and do yoga in the morning (don’t laugh), try to eat properly and get enough sleep to keep the house from falling down. That’s the body.

What does the soul of the house need? That, ah that, is more complicated. The soul gets stirred by so much–the day’s events, friends near and far, love gained and love lost. What life can bring sometimes are storms–frightening in their ferocity, and it can bring days of azure blue skies, with a gentle caressing breeze. The task of the soul is to make sure the house can stand up to the storm, and drink in the sun once the clouds have passed.

The house called you is a fragile structure. Strong, but fragile. A paradox that should be kept close to heart…

“When we long for life without difficulties, remind us that oaks grow strong in contrary winds and diamonds are made under pressure.” Peter Marshall

Jazz related…

While sitting on the couch listening to Sonny Rollins, I realized the critical thing that separates humans from animals is jazz.

(hat tip)

In the past few weeks, I’ve seen Tiger Woods lose the PGA Championship and a shot at the Barclays. And not that the man needs any advice from me, but you know what? Losing a couple will be good for him. He needs to know what it feels like to have victory in his hands and watch it slip away. He needs the memories of those shortcomings to fuel his drive for 19 majors. He needs those losses to wake him up. He needs the losses to know what it feels like to wake up on a Monday morning without a trophy he knows damn well he should have.

The quiver holding his considerable arrows now holds one more arrow. I trust he will use it well.

Introverts vs. Antisocials – Being Quiet and Enjoying Being Alone is not a Mental Illness | Mental Health Blogs.