The person… in the grip of an old distress says things that are not pertinent, does things that don’t work, fails to cope with the situation, and endures terrible feelings that have nothing to do with the present.
- Harvey Jackins-
Then, what all things CONTAMINATE our lives…..i have a small list below.
Co- dependence
Offender behaviors
Narcissistic disorders
Trust issues
Acting out / Acting in behaviors
Magical beliefs
Intimacy dysfunctions
Nondisciplined behaviors
Addictive compulsive behaviors
Thought distortions
Emptiness (apathy, depression)
From the book’ Homecoming’ by john bradshaw (http://www.johnbradshaw.com). I feel thankful to that unknown friend who left a copy of this book, at the second’s sale in exact shape, (even unread, I suspect). I only know what he misses by missing this book, hope one day he will be able to make up the loss…
Thursday, 31 May 2007
Surviving theology
“Having survived a theology and a war
I now, love the rains…”
Generally my memory fails me in literature.
But the memory of reading those lines above, in an art related book is so vivid.
I miss the poet, but never the poem…
Count it as the true success of a poet, that poem survives longer…
In fact, I was waiting for the right time to come, to remember these lines to you.
Last year rains came pouring down sweet anxieties of expectation…
Expecting the bigger things in life.
But, tonight I can write these lines in total sang-froid.
What actually, have I survived…. a theology or a war
The conceptual or the actual…
I don’t know.
Only one thing I know the best;
Now the time has come to tell you those two lines I remember still.
I now, love the rains…”
Generally my memory fails me in literature.
But the memory of reading those lines above, in an art related book is so vivid.
I miss the poet, but never the poem…
Count it as the true success of a poet, that poem survives longer…
In fact, I was waiting for the right time to come, to remember these lines to you.
Last year rains came pouring down sweet anxieties of expectation…
Expecting the bigger things in life.
But, tonight I can write these lines in total sang-froid.
What actually, have I survived…. a theology or a war
The conceptual or the actual…
I don’t know.
Only one thing I know the best;
Now the time has come to tell you those two lines I remember still.
Wednesday, 30 May 2007
Frustration tolerance
We live among many generations…
I feel the newer ones are intellectually richer…
but emotionally and spiritually (not religion Pls) impoverished.
there is absolutely low levels of frustration tolerance in them…
They get upset, when confronted with different bend of minds…
They struggle to go hand -in-hand…
we all should learn to appreciate the differences.
it is the differences that make us what we are…
diversity is the grandeur of life…
I feel the newer ones are intellectually richer…
but emotionally and spiritually (not religion Pls) impoverished.
there is absolutely low levels of frustration tolerance in them…
They get upset, when confronted with different bend of minds…
They struggle to go hand -in-hand…
we all should learn to appreciate the differences.
it is the differences that make us what we are…
diversity is the grandeur of life…
Devoured by the Ants...
Paulo Coelho writes
The slayer of dragons
Zhuangzi, the famous Chinese writer, tells the story of Zhu Pingman, who went in search of a teacher in order to learn the best way to slay dragons.
The teacher trained Pingman for ten whole years, until he had honed to perfection the most sophisticated dragon-slaying techniques.
Pingman spent the rest of his life looking for dragons in order show off his skills: to his great disappointment, he never found a single dragon.
The writer of the story comments: ‘We all prepare ourselves to slay dragons, but end up instead being devoured by the ants of the details that we never bothered to look at.’
The slayer of dragons
Zhuangzi, the famous Chinese writer, tells the story of Zhu Pingman, who went in search of a teacher in order to learn the best way to slay dragons.
The teacher trained Pingman for ten whole years, until he had honed to perfection the most sophisticated dragon-slaying techniques.
Pingman spent the rest of his life looking for dragons in order show off his skills: to his great disappointment, he never found a single dragon.
The writer of the story comments: ‘We all prepare ourselves to slay dragons, but end up instead being devoured by the ants of the details that we never bothered to look at.’
Tuesday, 29 May 2007
SURPRISE (eight years old)
Today was really surprised to find one internet miracle.
searching for some old data,
I found out the very first website I hand-coded in 1999 is still on-line!!!
I am sure over the last long eight years, you have forgotten it…
even though what I wrote that time is not so relevant now,
I found something interesting me even now.
fine… you can read it down here….
a poem untitled:
Some live as if in exile,
Recognised by even not a single wind.
They are neither remembered nor forgotten,
Simply, they are NOT.
An Eternal Negation.
I fear it,
So these words to you
My words will survive longer than me…..
and a sensible quotation on ‘Word of God’:
"Every attempt to transcreate a sacred text is a voyage of sunlit discovery.
Indeed, we net coral when we trawl for fish.
We lift a stone and start a wing.
We turn a corner, and stumble on the valley of flowers."
You know, I wonder what a genius I ‘was’ in those days of Existentialism, Kierkegaard and Hegel….hahahah
searching for some old data,
I found out the very first website I hand-coded in 1999 is still on-line!!!
I am sure over the last long eight years, you have forgotten it…
even though what I wrote that time is not so relevant now,
I found something interesting me even now.
fine… you can read it down here….
a poem untitled:
Some live as if in exile,
Recognised by even not a single wind.
They are neither remembered nor forgotten,
Simply, they are NOT.
An Eternal Negation.
I fear it,
So these words to you
My words will survive longer than me…..
and a sensible quotation on ‘Word of God’:
"Every attempt to transcreate a sacred text is a voyage of sunlit discovery.
Indeed, we net coral when we trawl for fish.
We lift a stone and start a wing.
We turn a corner, and stumble on the valley of flowers."
You know, I wonder what a genius I ‘was’ in those days of Existentialism, Kierkegaard and Hegel….hahahah
Three little things: Melancholy-Friends-Rain
MELANCHOLY
“There is melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass” (Charles Kuralt).
Oh no! I do not feel so intense…
But I am sad; my laptop went blind today…
Now it needs replacements from far… so need to wait.
What thrashes me more is the fact that I had lot more blog posts in it.
Now we have to wait….
Tonight I can write the saddest lines... ( Neruda should forgive me...)
FRIENDS
Today I overheard in the bus, two friends meeting together after quite long…
They were saying: in our times we need not ‘make’ friendships…
It just happened, even after years of silent appreciation
All of a sudden we got courage to hold the hand of the other
And say ‘I am happy we were friends…’
Nobody bothered to remember when they were friends..
They had never spoken together not even a formal wishing
But yet they all knew they were friends….
RAIN
Today the monsoon caught me red-handed; I was without an umbrella.
Somehow I managed to board the bus…
And through the window, I looked outside and told myself….
Rain is not so romantic always….
Especially when it comes uninvited….
But see, when behind our tight- shut windows...
We sing 'Rain Rain come again...'
“There is melancholy in the wind and sorrow in the grass” (Charles Kuralt).
Oh no! I do not feel so intense…
But I am sad; my laptop went blind today…
Now it needs replacements from far… so need to wait.
What thrashes me more is the fact that I had lot more blog posts in it.
Now we have to wait….
Tonight I can write the saddest lines... ( Neruda should forgive me...)
FRIENDS
Today I overheard in the bus, two friends meeting together after quite long…
They were saying: in our times we need not ‘make’ friendships…
It just happened, even after years of silent appreciation
All of a sudden we got courage to hold the hand of the other
And say ‘I am happy we were friends…’
Nobody bothered to remember when they were friends..
They had never spoken together not even a formal wishing
But yet they all knew they were friends….
RAIN
Today the monsoon caught me red-handed; I was without an umbrella.
Somehow I managed to board the bus…
And through the window, I looked outside and told myself….
Rain is not so romantic always….
Especially when it comes uninvited….
But see, when behind our tight- shut windows...
We sing 'Rain Rain come again...'
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
Humpty Dumpty sat on a wall;
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses
And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again!
Bishop Fulton J sheen interprets this Nursery rhyme interestingly.
He says just this: when H D had a great fall, no king’s men or horses could save him. It is the same with you and me, when we fall, there may not be anybody around to help us to put together… God only suffices…..
Humpty Dumpty had a great fall.
All the King's horses
And all the King's men
Couldn't put Humpty together again!
Bishop Fulton J sheen interprets this Nursery rhyme interestingly.
He says just this: when H D had a great fall, no king’s men or horses could save him. It is the same with you and me, when we fall, there may not be anybody around to help us to put together… God only suffices…..
Jack fell down and broke his crown...
I feel terrible for the times I have rhymed ‘Jack and Gill”. learning the history behind it, I am shocked.
read it http://www.rhymes.org.uk/jack_and_jill.htm
I am particularly disturbed by the detail it gives:
On the gruesome subject of beheading it was the custom that following execution the severed head was held up by the hair by the executioner. This was not, as many people think, to show the crowd the head but in fact to show the head the crowd and it's own body! Consciousness remains for at least eight seconds after beheading until lack of oxygen causes unconsciousness and eventually death.
it disturbs… should our kids sing this song with a really black history of human violence…
read it http://www.rhymes.org.uk/jack_and_jill.htm
I am particularly disturbed by the detail it gives:
On the gruesome subject of beheading it was the custom that following execution the severed head was held up by the hair by the executioner. This was not, as many people think, to show the crowd the head but in fact to show the head the crowd and it's own body! Consciousness remains for at least eight seconds after beheading until lack of oxygen causes unconsciousness and eventually death.
it disturbs… should our kids sing this song with a really black history of human violence…
Monday, 28 May 2007
The applauds we receive...
During a rehearsal of Beethoven’s Ninth symphony the members of the orchestra were so overwhelmingly moved by the conducting of Arturo Toscanini that they rose as one man and applauded him. When the spontaneous cheering had subsided Toscanini turned to his men, tears glistening in his eyes.
“Please….. Please! Don’t do this!” he said in a pathetic voice.
“You see, gentlemen, it isn’t me you should applaud. It’s Beethoven!”
Sometimes the applauds we receive, truly belong to someone else…
We just happen to be there that time to receive it, but never belongs….
Our scientific power has outrun our spiritual power.
We have guided missiles and misguided men.
- Martin Luther King, jr-
do dare to look up!
Back in the days of wind-sailing ships, an inexperienced seaman was sent aloft in a storm to disentangle a length of broken rigging from the mainmast. His body lashed by the raging wind, the youngster climbed up swiftly and did the job. As he started down again, he happened to look below him at the angry sea and the rolling deck.
“I’m falling” he shouted as his grip weakened.
“Don’t look down, boy! Look up!” the mate called from the deck below.
The boy forced himself to turn his head and looked above him. Calm and reassured, he made his way back to the deck, safe.
At times when you pleasure to address yourself as an atheist or an agnostic,
I understand it in this way: S/he is busy climbing up and up…. S/he has not started down yet.
hi buddy,
when you start down and feel scared,
just do not loose grip,
but do dare to look up!
An Agnostic is a person who is so sure that god knows him even though he does not know God. In fact, he is so clever...
“I’m falling” he shouted as his grip weakened.
“Don’t look down, boy! Look up!” the mate called from the deck below.
The boy forced himself to turn his head and looked above him. Calm and reassured, he made his way back to the deck, safe.
At times when you pleasure to address yourself as an atheist or an agnostic,
I understand it in this way: S/he is busy climbing up and up…. S/he has not started down yet.
hi buddy,
when you start down and feel scared,
just do not loose grip,
but do dare to look up!
An Agnostic is a person who is so sure that god knows him even though he does not know God. In fact, he is so clever...
Saturday, 26 May 2007
what Rilke said...
But sometimes i am like the tree that stands over a grave,
a leafy tree full grown who has lived out that particular dream which the dead boy around whoom its roots are pressing lost through his sad moods and poems....
- Rainer Maria Rilke-
search for a lost child.......
a leafy tree full grown who has lived out that particular dream which the dead boy around whoom its roots are pressing lost through his sad moods and poems....
- Rainer Maria Rilke-
search for a lost child.......
Friday, 25 May 2007
I just want you to be silent
I just want you to be silent
not because I hate your words,
but it needs time to heal….
together in silence,
we heal each other.
I thought, there should be a passage,
a passage between you and me,
where it communicates the deepest,
deeper than the words and flowers.
so we must be silent for a while,
listening to what the nature speaks to us…
not because I hate your words,
but it needs time to heal….
together in silence,
we heal each other.
I thought, there should be a passage,
a passage between you and me,
where it communicates the deepest,
deeper than the words and flowers.
so we must be silent for a while,
listening to what the nature speaks to us…
The children we always are ….
All our childhood stories end with ‘ they lived happily ever after…..’
All our life we search for this fairy tale ending.
Like Cinderella, we wait in the kitchen for a guy
With the right shoe…
Snow white is given the message that if she waits long enough,
her prince will come.
For women, the magic is in the waiting for the right man.
For men, it is in the endless search for the right women.
We should outgrow the literal to the real.
But wounded children refuse to grow up.
We all are wounded, whether you agree or not.
We need to be healed.
The question is…..
Will we aid each other to heal…
Together we break apart
Together we mend again...
All our life we search for this fairy tale ending.
Like Cinderella, we wait in the kitchen for a guy
With the right shoe…
Snow white is given the message that if she waits long enough,
her prince will come.
For women, the magic is in the waiting for the right man.
For men, it is in the endless search for the right women.
We should outgrow the literal to the real.
But wounded children refuse to grow up.
We all are wounded, whether you agree or not.
We need to be healed.
The question is…..
Will we aid each other to heal…
Together we break apart
Together we mend again...
Wednesday, 23 May 2007
we shall begin with a story.....The missing brick
Let me tell u a story by Paulo Coelho:
Once, when I and my wife were travelling, I received a fax from my secretary.
‘There’s one glass brick missing for the work on the kitchen renovation,’ she said. ‘I’m sending you the original plan as well as the plan the builder has come up with to compensate for it.’
On the one hand was the design my wife had made: harmonious lines of bricks with an opening for ventilation. On the other hand was the plan drawn up to resolve the problem of the missing brick: a real jigsaw puzzle in which the glass squares were arranged in a higgledy-piggledy fashion that defied aesthetics.
‘Just buy another brick,’ wrote my wife. And so they did and thus stuck to the original design.
That afternoon, I thought for a long time about what had happened; how often, for the lack of one brick, we completely distort the original plan of our lives.
Once, when I and my wife were travelling, I received a fax from my secretary.
‘There’s one glass brick missing for the work on the kitchen renovation,’ she said. ‘I’m sending you the original plan as well as the plan the builder has come up with to compensate for it.’
On the one hand was the design my wife had made: harmonious lines of bricks with an opening for ventilation. On the other hand was the plan drawn up to resolve the problem of the missing brick: a real jigsaw puzzle in which the glass squares were arranged in a higgledy-piggledy fashion that defied aesthetics.
‘Just buy another brick,’ wrote my wife. And so they did and thus stuck to the original design.
That afternoon, I thought for a long time about what had happened; how often, for the lack of one brick, we completely distort the original plan of our lives.
coming home...coming home
yes! i am back, yet again.
last time when bloggger got banned here in india, i grew lazy.
this time...i wonder,when will my time come????
As of always, i write what i feel.
it is the way i look at the world around me.
so you are assured many true questions and answers than right questions and answers.
sometimes i am quite non-sense, if not no-sense.
othertimes....u know, i am really an intellectual.
u will have to stand by my way of english spellings....
okay..enough is enough....
add me again into ur feed reader..
let bentalk123....
last time when bloggger got banned here in india, i grew lazy.
this time...i wonder,when will my time come????
As of always, i write what i feel.
it is the way i look at the world around me.
so you are assured many true questions and answers than right questions and answers.
sometimes i am quite non-sense, if not no-sense.
othertimes....u know, i am really an intellectual.
u will have to stand by my way of english spellings....
okay..enough is enough....
add me again into ur feed reader..
let bentalk123....
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