Little sleep...and it's Tuesday.
Dodgeball league in SF:
http://www.active.com/event_detail.cfm?event_id=1294711
Le Grand Voyage
"Winner of Best First Film at the Venice Film Festival last year, this Odyssian tale of inter-generation bonding between a French teenager Reda (Nicolas Cazale) and his father (Mohamed Majd) as they make their pilgrimage from France to Mecca is quite deserving of the accolades it has gathered so far. Apart from the truly magnificant visage of Cazale --- an ethereal hybrid of Aamir Kahn's regality and Gallic seductiveness --- this film also features some truly beautiful moments of quiet humanity.
Coming home on day, Reda was told that he has been appointed to ferry his father across europe and the middle-easten lands to the holy destination of Mecca. All these familial responsibilities in spite of his imminent final exams.
Though the premise is susceptible to charges of being cliche, the way in which director Ismael Ferroukhi paces his story is quite a departure from most road-trip movies before it. Many aspects of the story have been deliberately left unclear and unresolved. Despite such flaccidity, the ending does pack a huge emotional wallop which will no doubt undo the hardest of hearts. Then again, watching gorgeous Cazale on screen does harden other parts of one's physiognomy. Enjoy... "
Tuesday, February 28, 2006
Monday, February 27, 2006
Random
We watched two movies over the weekend. One covering the life of Dietrich Bonhoeffer, a German theologian who openly opposed the Nazi’s and “America in the Holocaust: Deceit and Indifference”. Much of the second is a rehashing of the failures of FDR’s populist policies and voiced/penned from various sources. Err…realizing that this subject leaves me pensive and incapable of expanding on my thoughts in the written form.
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NYC-centric
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http://hollabacknyc.blogspot.com/
Interesting links on the above site:
http://cyberchocolate.blogspot.com/
http://www.gothamist.com/
http://nyc.metblogs.com/
http://whatis-wrong-withyou.blogspot.com/
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
NYC-centric
~:~:~:~:~:~:~:~
http://hollabacknyc.blogspot.com/
Interesting links on the above site:
http://cyberchocolate.blogspot.com/
http://www.gothamist.com/
http://nyc.metblogs.com/
http://whatis-wrong-withyou.blogspot.com/
Friday, February 24, 2006
New people
I have met some new people recently and have welcomed their observations on life and intrigued at how they have arrived at their current standing. Some are extraordinarily successful—truly appear to be **living** their dream, others are at the opposite end of the spectrum…reacting to events around them and clearly show an unwillingness or inability to change their state of existence. I fall somewhere in between but lean heavily to achieving the short-term goals. I find myself wondering if the friendships will develop, if there is enough in common, if we resonate when it comes to primary vales and if those secondary values are aligned. It’s been interesting to date and leaves one with a sense that it is possible to meet one’s “type of person” but that perhaps the timing of meeting and time constraints won’t allow for growth. But these interactions have given me some insight to what is missing currently—a free exchange of ideas on many subjects: art, philosophy, psychology, economics and the world of dreams. Engaging conversations with conscious beings, rather than reading voraciously various news sources, websites, and books has granted me a new sort of energy—or allowed me to revisit something that was more familiar years ago in the form of open exchange. I remember going out with friends, some close, some not and chatting away evenings over coffee. Debating, arguing, outright mind battles and enormous amounts of laughter. Drunk from alcohol or donuts or thinking and the ongoing banter forth and back only to end an evening in early morning with that great rush of excitement for life but physically an intense need for sleep. I remember being the “O, so serious one” and evolving into someone who was secure at laughing herself and the errors she made only to find growth and amusement and appreciation for things that I held little value of. I miss those days and would like them back. Not only to meet “my type of person” but to continuously see through others eyes and find that internal place that allows me for a short period of time to resonate with their experience and understand their individual state of grace.
I had a dream the other night where I was looking in a mirror and front and center was moi. In the dream I am over focussed on which eyeglass frames looked better—black or red…switching between the two…and then slowly a web of people somewhat foggy enter the mirror…the influences, the voices, the people who have made a difference and then some who I still do not understand the presence of. But it was interesting…the mirror reflecting myself evolving into a reflection of not just myself but those I in some capacity must carry with me. What is it to be surrounded by people who smiling at you? It’s an intensely positive emotion—exuberance—the ultimate happy vibe. I rarely remember my dreams…but this one I do and for whatever undiscovered (as yet) purpose, I will carry it with me.
L’chaim!
"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." --Henri Nouwen
I had a dream the other night where I was looking in a mirror and front and center was moi. In the dream I am over focussed on which eyeglass frames looked better—black or red…switching between the two…and then slowly a web of people somewhat foggy enter the mirror…the influences, the voices, the people who have made a difference and then some who I still do not understand the presence of. But it was interesting…the mirror reflecting myself evolving into a reflection of not just myself but those I in some capacity must carry with me. What is it to be surrounded by people who smiling at you? It’s an intensely positive emotion—exuberance—the ultimate happy vibe. I rarely remember my dreams…but this one I do and for whatever undiscovered (as yet) purpose, I will carry it with me.
L’chaim!
"When we honestly ask ourselves which person in our lives mean the most to us, we often find that it is those who, instead of giving advice, solutions, or cures, have chosen rather to share our pain and touch our wounds with a warm and tender hand. The friend who can be silent with us in a moment of despair or confusion, who can stay with us in an hour of grief and bereavement, who can tolerate not knowing, not curing, not healing and face with us the reality of our powerlessness, that is a friend who cares." --Henri Nouwen
Thursday, February 23, 2006
Happy Birthday Freddie!
Steve and I were laughing lastnight…we met you when you were 4½, you were on your big wheel doing laps around the complex with a huge grin on your face, “Watch me, watch me, watch me” and your other famous line, “brother, brother, brother” and never once a “Jefferson”.
Ten years later, we continue to watch as you excel in all things that you focus on—school, sports and your character. From the little boy I could carry on my back, who would comb my hair—who was convinced that gel was required to the young man who stands 6’2”, 205lbs and now has to ensure his hair is perfect…continue to be you “Little Man”—continue to strive toward the best within.
We love you Freddie – Happy Birthday!
Ten years later, we continue to watch as you excel in all things that you focus on—school, sports and your character. From the little boy I could carry on my back, who would comb my hair—who was convinced that gel was required to the young man who stands 6’2”, 205lbs and now has to ensure his hair is perfect…continue to be you “Little Man”—continue to strive toward the best within.
We love you Freddie – Happy Birthday!
Wednesday, February 22, 2006
5A 41 4E 45
In code or apparent…on the surface or seven layers deep to the stream of where 90% of what we are flows both directionally but freely through us.
I heard from an old friend who remembers and honors the day of our meeting years ago. Strange to revisit memories, to extract them wholly from one’s mind…to feel the energy and excitement of a different time and to keep the framework of who and what we were when the events occurred.
Life was in many ways far more difficult in school and even later once I moved to San Fran, much more difficult. I struggled with the balance of “things” {yes, that “stuff”—yes, intentionally obtuse and undefined for the reader} and realizing that I am far more suited for absorbing books, applying concepts, introspecting than I am for experiencing the world directly. A realization I was very much insulated from in college…not much to do in Kentucky…and even coming from living in NY and the pace of life so rushed—my interests remained with cutting school to go to the Met or the Frick…to watching life in Washington Square Park…to walking the park or running or working out at the club in midtown. On the periphery, watching, the perhaps waiting for something to happen.
I had a picture of loneliest man on earth hanging in my bedroom for years. That’s what I called him anyway. My father would laugh every time he looked at that picture because it happened to be a B&W magazine picture of Prince Charles looking solemnly to the distance in a bathrobe. The ultimate betrayal of one’s inner sanctum—where to be alone in one’s comfort and thoughts was captured forever by the lens, by the eye of someone who wholly understood the depth of solitude he lived in. I once tried to explain why I liked the picture—what it meant to me…and I remember my father saying something to the effect of, “To be what you are and never to live it that is a crime.” And we had one of those discussions where a parent realizes a child is not so young anymore—where the pauses are unnatural due to being startled by the abstractness of the conversation.
How does one truly live their life while silently processing the going ons about them? How does one withdraw quietly from the mainstream and retain an affinity for all that is oriented to action? An odd mixture of character traits or maybe just points in time where one values divergent attributes that somehow bring together what is needed in that space.
I wish I knew—wish I could remember what I thought my life would be 16 years ago. I wish had saved the many letters I had written, the papers for school, somehow recorded conversations and filmed nights out dancing. Where is the replay button?
We just haven’t discovered it yet. Like in the movie with the Zoe Implants or Brainstorm…someday, but not today.
Thank you Charters—thanks for bringing me backward for a moment. The measure of your friendship stays with me. L’chaim to “the first day of the rest of your life”…in their own way, may each day that has followed and those that will be—may they represent the celebration, in whatever depth, your life everyday.
I heard from an old friend who remembers and honors the day of our meeting years ago. Strange to revisit memories, to extract them wholly from one’s mind…to feel the energy and excitement of a different time and to keep the framework of who and what we were when the events occurred.
Life was in many ways far more difficult in school and even later once I moved to San Fran, much more difficult. I struggled with the balance of “things” {yes, that “stuff”—yes, intentionally obtuse and undefined for the reader} and realizing that I am far more suited for absorbing books, applying concepts, introspecting than I am for experiencing the world directly. A realization I was very much insulated from in college…not much to do in Kentucky…and even coming from living in NY and the pace of life so rushed—my interests remained with cutting school to go to the Met or the Frick…to watching life in Washington Square Park…to walking the park or running or working out at the club in midtown. On the periphery, watching, the perhaps waiting for something to happen.
I had a picture of loneliest man on earth hanging in my bedroom for years. That’s what I called him anyway. My father would laugh every time he looked at that picture because it happened to be a B&W magazine picture of Prince Charles looking solemnly to the distance in a bathrobe. The ultimate betrayal of one’s inner sanctum—where to be alone in one’s comfort and thoughts was captured forever by the lens, by the eye of someone who wholly understood the depth of solitude he lived in. I once tried to explain why I liked the picture—what it meant to me…and I remember my father saying something to the effect of, “To be what you are and never to live it that is a crime.” And we had one of those discussions where a parent realizes a child is not so young anymore—where the pauses are unnatural due to being startled by the abstractness of the conversation.
How does one truly live their life while silently processing the going ons about them? How does one withdraw quietly from the mainstream and retain an affinity for all that is oriented to action? An odd mixture of character traits or maybe just points in time where one values divergent attributes that somehow bring together what is needed in that space.
I wish I knew—wish I could remember what I thought my life would be 16 years ago. I wish had saved the many letters I had written, the papers for school, somehow recorded conversations and filmed nights out dancing. Where is the replay button?
We just haven’t discovered it yet. Like in the movie with the Zoe Implants or Brainstorm…someday, but not today.
Thank you Charters—thanks for bringing me backward for a moment. The measure of your friendship stays with me. L’chaim to “the first day of the rest of your life”…in their own way, may each day that has followed and those that will be—may they represent the celebration, in whatever depth, your life everyday.
Thursday, February 16, 2006
Postive Psychology
Great story:
http://www.thecrimson.com/article.aspx?ref=511334
(The Science of Smiling
Positive Psychology is the most popular course at Harvard. Is happy the new sad?
Published On Wednesday, February 15, 2006 10:24 PM)
Just heard from Freddie - he got an A on his maths test!
http://www.thecrimson.com/article.aspx?ref=511334
(The Science of Smiling
Positive Psychology is the most popular course at Harvard. Is happy the new sad?
Published On Wednesday, February 15, 2006 10:24 PM)
Just heard from Freddie - he got an A on his maths test!
Wednesday, February 15, 2006
Everything is something
The good, the bad and the very ugly. Events unfold and I am somewhat the passive observer of what is carrying forward. I wonder about the conversations, the rationalizations, the context of which others speak. Can you defend your position? Can you strive to see it through anothers eyes and compensate for their arguments for and against? Err machinations.
The questions arises, "But why would that be their choice?" And there are numerous responses most of which evade the fundamental issues and point to things that carry no weight adding to the lack of clarity.
Quietly amused.
"He taught that everything is something." Meaning, don't take any of it for granted, but keep it in perspective--in it's proper context.
The questions arises, "But why would that be their choice?" And there are numerous responses most of which evade the fundamental issues and point to things that carry no weight adding to the lack of clarity.
Quietly amused.
"He taught that everything is something." Meaning, don't take any of it for granted, but keep it in perspective--in it's proper context.
Tuesday, February 14, 2006
Monday, February 13, 2006
Portland
We're prepping this week for the Nike tournament in Portland. Freddie will have two early days at the gym, 5:30am up and out to shooting workout, then evening workouts through Thursday. He has this focus about him that I think we're helping bring to the next level. The conversations in the past week have been about dealing with your weaknesses, being mindful of 'game speed', staying the course and not making your opponent more than he is. We've talked a lot about physical contact and if he could change anything about basketball, it would be the elimination of contact. With this in mind we're pushing him to continue to immerse himself in that contact until it becomes a second skin, until it is as normal and comfortable as being alone on the wing.
Steve and I washed my car...I am a total failure at washing cars. The boys constantly laugh at my inability to have that final shine--as if one went to a car wash with the hand drying guys. Ithink to myself, "It can't be that hard, it's just a technique." And Freddie, Steve, Jefferson laugh and poke, "Duh, just put an elbow into it--and don't forget to dry the car off." Of course the result of lacksadasical elbow action and skipping the drying leaves this streaky mess of a thing. The upside, we all laugh and maybe that's the underlying goal. Silly insiginificant things that bring you back to that peace, that some things--they are meant to be activities around something totally different than what you are doing. I think washing cars is that for me...it's about watching them be amused at how ridiculous the results are. Someday, I too will 'get it' and execute well, but for now I like those secondary inputs and they give me energy.
Justin graduated from boot camp and we chatted with him over the weekend. Away from the Great Lakes and now in Florida. He sounds as if he has matured, as if he realizes the strength and fortitude within--that his life is in fact his own, and he no longer needs to hold onto childhood nightmares being his fault. I look forward to seeing him, to see the boy who has turned into a man. Finding peace within through military training...valid.
Long week ahead. But hopefully, it will be with a sense of direction toward something instead of away from it.
Steve and I washed my car...I am a total failure at washing cars. The boys constantly laugh at my inability to have that final shine--as if one went to a car wash with the hand drying guys. Ithink to myself, "It can't be that hard, it's just a technique." And Freddie, Steve, Jefferson laugh and poke, "Duh, just put an elbow into it--and don't forget to dry the car off." Of course the result of lacksadasical elbow action and skipping the drying leaves this streaky mess of a thing. The upside, we all laugh and maybe that's the underlying goal. Silly insiginificant things that bring you back to that peace, that some things--they are meant to be activities around something totally different than what you are doing. I think washing cars is that for me...it's about watching them be amused at how ridiculous the results are. Someday, I too will 'get it' and execute well, but for now I like those secondary inputs and they give me energy.
Justin graduated from boot camp and we chatted with him over the weekend. Away from the Great Lakes and now in Florida. He sounds as if he has matured, as if he realizes the strength and fortitude within--that his life is in fact his own, and he no longer needs to hold onto childhood nightmares being his fault. I look forward to seeing him, to see the boy who has turned into a man. Finding peace within through military training...valid.
Long week ahead. But hopefully, it will be with a sense of direction toward something instead of away from it.
Thursday, February 09, 2006
You can love it or hate it
New Mary J. Blige CD..."and for all of you who dont like it--you can love it or hate, love it or hate it, love it or hate it" brings a huge smile to my face. Rings true. Feel it to the core.
Long conversation with Steve last evening about fear. Total acknowledgement of it as a driver to one's behavior, clear action that needs to be taken to find resolve and that overwhelming sense that it will not get done. I hear the words, process them, can at times imagine the neurons firing with those "A-ha's"...but still somehow it is not triggering the neurons that move the mind to an explicit course of action. I am fighting an internal battle, where there is only one person losing--again and again. Self-imposed, comfortable (?) and preposterous. I should record the thoughts, I ought to daily be fine tuning, polishing, trying out different sealants to break through the mental barriers...perhaps after today I will.
I hope that this day will be the turning point, where I have reached the point: this is as much as I am willing to endure, there is no more to give...and peace in the voice that chants the mantra, "live now--now will never come again".
..."and for all of you who dont like it--you can love it or hate, love it or hate it, love it or hate it"
Long conversation with Steve last evening about fear. Total acknowledgement of it as a driver to one's behavior, clear action that needs to be taken to find resolve and that overwhelming sense that it will not get done. I hear the words, process them, can at times imagine the neurons firing with those "A-ha's"...but still somehow it is not triggering the neurons that move the mind to an explicit course of action. I am fighting an internal battle, where there is only one person losing--again and again. Self-imposed, comfortable (?) and preposterous. I should record the thoughts, I ought to daily be fine tuning, polishing, trying out different sealants to break through the mental barriers...perhaps after today I will.
I hope that this day will be the turning point, where I have reached the point: this is as much as I am willing to endure, there is no more to give...and peace in the voice that chants the mantra, "live now--now will never come again".
..."and for all of you who dont like it--you can love it or hate, love it or hate it, love it or hate it"
Tuesday, February 07, 2006
Cultural Differences
From another blog:
"How, when do you know?
Forget cultural differences for a moment. How do you really know a person? When do you know? Is it a time frame or a series of hurdles (natural or constructed) or simple repetition or something else entirely? How often do people let you into their motivations, and, even if you know these motivations, how do you know you won't be sacrificed for them? When does trust enter? When does it become complete? I've achieved trust - in the purest, most sincere meaning of the word - with several, many even. But, as I am isolated in an environment that is foreign and lacking all the comfortable distractions that typically make the drive for faith less obvious, I want to know when and how this happens. Can I make it happen? Do I explain and reexplain what I want, what I need, to someone and hope they "get it"? Or should they just be expected to get it on their own? If you explain in graphic detail what it is that serves as your center, your heart, your mind, how do you know if someone follows directions well or if they truly understand? Does it matter? Should it matter, I guess. The difference matters to me - my life isn't a workplace where I just want people to fulfill some basic job duties correctly - the ends and the means matter. When incomplete, what breaks trust? A simple slip shouldn't do it, but what about repeated slips - off-hand comments, lack of courtesy, a tendency to value the new above the old? Where is the line between human error (deserving compassion and forgiveness) and showing one's true hand? Where's the point between being a cold, skeptical hardass and a blind, manipulated chump?"
"How, when do you know?
Forget cultural differences for a moment. How do you really know a person? When do you know? Is it a time frame or a series of hurdles (natural or constructed) or simple repetition or something else entirely? How often do people let you into their motivations, and, even if you know these motivations, how do you know you won't be sacrificed for them? When does trust enter? When does it become complete? I've achieved trust - in the purest, most sincere meaning of the word - with several, many even. But, as I am isolated in an environment that is foreign and lacking all the comfortable distractions that typically make the drive for faith less obvious, I want to know when and how this happens. Can I make it happen? Do I explain and reexplain what I want, what I need, to someone and hope they "get it"? Or should they just be expected to get it on their own? If you explain in graphic detail what it is that serves as your center, your heart, your mind, how do you know if someone follows directions well or if they truly understand? Does it matter? Should it matter, I guess. The difference matters to me - my life isn't a workplace where I just want people to fulfill some basic job duties correctly - the ends and the means matter. When incomplete, what breaks trust? A simple slip shouldn't do it, but what about repeated slips - off-hand comments, lack of courtesy, a tendency to value the new above the old? Where is the line between human error (deserving compassion and forgiveness) and showing one's true hand? Where's the point between being a cold, skeptical hardass and a blind, manipulated chump?"
Deleted posts
bring questions to mind...was the information just temporary? did the events escape one's memory? is one just going through the motions without understanding each action builds a history that is the basis for success moving forward.
i don't know.
i follow a couple of blogs, some of people i know others who are complete strangers. i enjoy hearing their voice...seeing in their words a new found happiness or resolution...i wonder when the happy posts disappear or are reworded. i have been tempted to delete some of mine and realize, but these things were at the time relevant.
i don't know.
i follow a couple of blogs, some of people i know others who are complete strangers. i enjoy hearing their voice...seeing in their words a new found happiness or resolution...i wonder when the happy posts disappear or are reworded. i have been tempted to delete some of mine and realize, but these things were at the time relevant.
Monday, February 06, 2006
Weekend
Saturday...Wildcats did an awesome job against the JV/Var players from Newark. The varsity players took it easy on them, but overall the Wildcats showed some great ball movement, penetration and sound thinking. Freddie kept his focus, hit his outside shots and drove hard to the hoop. We found out that Freddie is ranked 104th (Class of 2010) in the nation for basketball. His hope by the end of this year was to be in the top 100, so some fine tuning and with discipline he should reach this goal.
Steve and I ate at Emile's in San Jose. French food that was very good and we look forward to heading back. Afterward we went to Corteo by Cirque du Soleil. Mystere is still our favorite, but the show was enjoyable with the standard 'incredibleness' of the performers.
Sunday...uneventful, worked some to catch up and did the standard shopping tasks.
Good weekend overall.
Steve and I ate at Emile's in San Jose. French food that was very good and we look forward to heading back. Afterward we went to Corteo by Cirque du Soleil. Mystere is still our favorite, but the show was enjoyable with the standard 'incredibleness' of the performers.
Sunday...uneventful, worked some to catch up and did the standard shopping tasks.
Good weekend overall.
Friday, February 03, 2006
Missing the NY state of mind
From another blog:
"may your shade be sweet
there are countless times that i hear my own soundtrack. tunes that trigger memories. movement. emotions.
today. probably for the first time. i felt as though i was hearing the soundtrack for someone else.
a young woman. not much older than myself. sitting across from me. and with a wistful look upon her face, she gazed, mindlessly, upon the floor. clutching her bag. tears silently welling up in her eyes.
and as i became unabashedly entranced by her . . . the song played for her."
And on another day:
she says courtesy is contagious
new york revived the "Ms. Subways" competition in 2004 after a 30 year hiatus. the 2004 Ms. Subways apparently goes uncontested considering we're in 2006, and she's still here.
throughout the subway cars, her face appears on billboards offering ideas for better subway etiquette.
"You have a standing invitation to offer your seat to pregnant women, the elderly, and the disabled."
today, as i travelled my underground commute, an elderly woman entered the packed train. she was barely able to shuffle aboard. and as i and the man next to me began to get our asses in gear to free our seats, we realized someone else had beaten us to the punch. a young man of about 15 had already sprung to his feet and was presenting the available spot to the woman. she looked grateful.
and i'll confess . . . i was warm with surprise. smiling.
there was something about that seemingly small gesture. the silent exchange between the boy and the elderly woman. something about this totally street, city kid instinctively offering his seat . . . offered me faith in others and hope for the future.
"may your shade be sweet
there are countless times that i hear my own soundtrack. tunes that trigger memories. movement. emotions.
today. probably for the first time. i felt as though i was hearing the soundtrack for someone else.
a young woman. not much older than myself. sitting across from me. and with a wistful look upon her face, she gazed, mindlessly, upon the floor. clutching her bag. tears silently welling up in her eyes.
and as i became unabashedly entranced by her . . . the song played for her."
And on another day:
she says courtesy is contagious
new york revived the "Ms. Subways" competition in 2004 after a 30 year hiatus. the 2004 Ms. Subways apparently goes uncontested considering we're in 2006, and she's still here.
throughout the subway cars, her face appears on billboards offering ideas for better subway etiquette.
"You have a standing invitation to offer your seat to pregnant women, the elderly, and the disabled."
today, as i travelled my underground commute, an elderly woman entered the packed train. she was barely able to shuffle aboard. and as i and the man next to me began to get our asses in gear to free our seats, we realized someone else had beaten us to the punch. a young man of about 15 had already sprung to his feet and was presenting the available spot to the woman. she looked grateful.
and i'll confess . . . i was warm with surprise. smiling.
there was something about that seemingly small gesture. the silent exchange between the boy and the elderly woman. something about this totally street, city kid instinctively offering his seat . . . offered me faith in others and hope for the future.
Yep yep
From another blog:
the reason i love new york #129:
when my roommate bree proclaimed a "truth" and asked for an "amen," the people in her presence responded in chorus:
"ummmmmmmmmmm.........."
the reason i love new york #129:
when my roommate bree proclaimed a "truth" and asked for an "amen," the people in her presence responded in chorus:
"ummmmmmmmmmm.........."
Thursday, February 02, 2006
Wednesday, February 01, 2006
Words that resonate
I found this on another's blog...spent an hour or so reading it...amazing.
“… he felt like he was playing a game different than other people. He, like others, liked to win, but unlike others he wanted to do it right - the right morals, means and ends. He was playing by different rules and, while he felt like a better person for that, he also found that he often lost because of it. Like Chris, I want to do the right things for the right reasons. I too feel like it means I play a different game. I'd like to win, but mostly I want to look at myself in the mirror, look deeply into my own eyes and know the person there is someone I respect. I work everyday to make sure I can still do that. It's something I do every single morning.”
“Confucius said "Have no friends not equal to yourself." Again, a harsh way of thinking perhaps, but quite sensible to those who've found themselves the lesser of two, or even the daunting task of being the greater of two. Being carried is humiliating and carrying only breeds resentment.”
“The girl once known for making colleagues laugh at the drop of a hat, whipping people into shape and routinely thinking outside the proverbial box (rumor was that she actually couldn't think IN it) was no longer that girl. The light in her eyes diminished a bit, as did her humor and her spirit. Compromise after compromise - over values, integrity, professionalism, quality - meant she felt less and less whole. Less and less content. Less and less quirky. Less and less respectable. Less and less like herself.”
“We all do it. We set up rules in our lives. Things we see as good signs or bad signs. Things that make someone right or wrong. Deal-sealers and deal-breakers. One thing I've learned to be weary of is people who use the following phrase: I knew you'd understand. This is a phrase often used by Person A on Person B (someone who cares about Person A) signifying that Person A was given a choice between Person B and someone (or thing) less loving/understanding and chose the lesser of the two. It's a phrase that most often means: I shat upon you because I knew you'd take it.”
“I gradually came to notice that those who make the most significant, lasting contributions in any arena are themselves equally shaped and changed by the act of giving – they were the people who entered thinking they had at least as much to gain from an experience as they had to give to it.”
“I am compelled by the convergence of, and frequent disharmony between, theory and implementation..”
“… he felt like he was playing a game different than other people. He, like others, liked to win, but unlike others he wanted to do it right - the right morals, means and ends. He was playing by different rules and, while he felt like a better person for that, he also found that he often lost because of it. Like Chris, I want to do the right things for the right reasons. I too feel like it means I play a different game. I'd like to win, but mostly I want to look at myself in the mirror, look deeply into my own eyes and know the person there is someone I respect. I work everyday to make sure I can still do that. It's something I do every single morning.”
“Confucius said "Have no friends not equal to yourself." Again, a harsh way of thinking perhaps, but quite sensible to those who've found themselves the lesser of two, or even the daunting task of being the greater of two. Being carried is humiliating and carrying only breeds resentment.”
“The girl once known for making colleagues laugh at the drop of a hat, whipping people into shape and routinely thinking outside the proverbial box (rumor was that she actually couldn't think IN it) was no longer that girl. The light in her eyes diminished a bit, as did her humor and her spirit. Compromise after compromise - over values, integrity, professionalism, quality - meant she felt less and less whole. Less and less content. Less and less quirky. Less and less respectable. Less and less like herself.”
“We all do it. We set up rules in our lives. Things we see as good signs or bad signs. Things that make someone right or wrong. Deal-sealers and deal-breakers. One thing I've learned to be weary of is people who use the following phrase: I knew you'd understand. This is a phrase often used by Person A on Person B (someone who cares about Person A) signifying that Person A was given a choice between Person B and someone (or thing) less loving/understanding and chose the lesser of the two. It's a phrase that most often means: I shat upon you because I knew you'd take it.”
“I gradually came to notice that those who make the most significant, lasting contributions in any arena are themselves equally shaped and changed by the act of giving – they were the people who entered thinking they had at least as much to gain from an experience as they had to give to it.”
“I am compelled by the convergence of, and frequent disharmony between, theory and implementation..”