Most people think they’re successful if they can achieve financial success. Love of Money is the “root of all Evil” and yet Money itself is at the top of the tree that most want to climb.
More important than Money though is Time.
And more important than Time is Energy.
All three are interrelated and can be Transformed into each other.
A millionaire on his death bed would trade all his wealth for even an extra week of Time. An extra day, an extra hour, an extra second, they are all Priceless.
The millionaire would have made a smart choice, buying more Time, as long as he still had the Energy to enjoy it.
The Energy I speak of here is a broad term encompassing notions such as Health, Vigor, Zest and also Spiritual Awareness.
As you find yourself in a perpetual Rat Race, running after more and more Money, it helps to think about Time and Energy instead.
I am gonna be celebrating my birthday in a few minutes. To be more precise, in a few minutes it’ll be my birthday.
Then again people have already been wishing me a Happy Birthday on Facebook from all around the globe and I just realized that where they are it’s already been my birthday for awhile now.
From their perspective it’s already October 12. Columbus day, my Birthday. Truth is most of what we think is reality is just a perception, a way of seeing, or even worse, just a dumb habit.
A perspective. What time of day or even what day is it anyhow ? It depends on your perspective.
Columbus thought he had discovered something when really he was just lost. A perspective shift makes you a loser or a Hero in your own mind.
The older I get the only thing I know for sure is that I don’t know squat.
Some people avoid all this Birthday hoopla and hype by living in a way where it’s like their Birthday every day of the year. Life is one big continuous party for them.
Some people want a surprise party thrown for them every year and they go through extreme histrionics pretending they were all surprised and squat.
( As I get older I realize it’s best to say squat rather than er..well…er… squat. )
Yeah, so anyway, they act all surprised and stuff, yet you and I know this happens every year and they could not possibly be surprised by it anymore.
Some people don’t celebrate Birthdays at all. Jehovah’s Witnesses say it’s a pagan practice which should not be followed. Others just see it as a waste of money or prefer to be anti-social. Like Scrooge at Xmas. Some just hate being reminded that they’re now a year older.
In my own mind I see myself as one year wiser. Survival is granted to the fittest and smartest and by surviving one more year I am proving myself wiser than many. I only hope that in the coming year I live more instead of merely surviving though.
I feel alive when I am creating. That’s why blogging first thing on my birthday was important to me. Even if no one else reads this crap… I mean this squat… at least I feel creative and thats something.
In my long life I’ve learnt that your own trivial and fleeting happiness isn’t trivial at all and if you can find Flow experiences and enjoyment grab it with both hands.
Surviving is like getting lost. Living is like Discovering the New World. Anything in-between is like being Stuck in Customs.
I am gonna be Habitually Creative. Then again Creativity is said to occur when you break habits so by being Habitually creative I’m actually not creative at all. I am so dull I couldn’t think of a better way to celebrate my birthday than by blogging ?
It’s sad. I need to change how I see things. I’m like a frustrated photographer who suddenly realizes his photos are not cutting it. They don’t snap, crackle and pop. The boring minutiae of Life is not sharp and memorable enough.
First though I’m gonna get some sleep.
Oh yeah almost forgot to tell myself.
Self , Happy Birthday !
Sorry Self there will be no surprise parties this time but we will break some old habits and celebrate all year.
Let the Champagne Flow.
The awesome performance of Usain Bolt in the 100m finals recently requires a new word to be coined.
His display was simply “Soboltious”. The new word means Sublime, perfection, it contains elements of what the Japanese call Shibumi or what the Italians call Sprezzatura. It’s poetry in Motion. Unbelievable Brilliance that appears almost effortless.
Second place finisher, Tyson Gay ran the race of his life, his astounding time of 9.71 seconds was a new American record and suggests to me that his complaints of a groin injury were really just a devious psychological ploy.
At this level at least 90% of the battle is psychological and Asafa Powell, who usually falters in that department, by coming third also performed at his best.
The Master Psychologist Bolt however was Soboltious. Bolt eased through the 100 m heats, clocking the fastest ever pre-final performance of 9.89 seconds with such ease that he almost appeared to be jogging.He made it look easy through all the heats and then false started in the semis (I personally believe this was intentional). This false start ploy took away the
only weapon that might be used against him by his slower
opponents and completely threw off Tyrone Edgar of the UK who false started after and thus missed the final.
The final was the first time Bolt and Gay had met in the season, and the American ran 9.71 seconds, 0.02 off Bolt’s world record run in Beijing. However, Bolt finished some distance ahead of Gay, improving the world record to 9.58 seconds to win his first World Championship gold medal. Taking over a tenth of a second off the previous best mark, this was the largest ever margin of mprovement in the 100 m world record since the beginning of electronic timing.
Such stellar performances cause ignorant skeptics to suggest that he is on drugs but this really only shows their ignorance of Bolt’s early success. He was a sprinting prodigy, at sixteen years old, Bolt had reached times that the great Michael Johnson did not register until he was twenty.
His rivalry with Tyson Gay is just what the sport needs. In fact Tyson Gay did us all a favor by showing that Bolt is not super human and if the “Lightning Bolt ” ever gets complacent, he not only can, but will, be beaten.
Their rivalry is not new. Previously finishing second to Gay in the 200m of the 2007 Osaka World Championships boosted Bolt’s desire to run, and he took a more serious, more mature stance towards his career ever since.
Under the guidance of Glen Mills, Bolt achieved the feat of being the first sprinter, since Donald Quarrie, to hold both 100 m and 200 m world records simultaneously and the first since the introduction of electronic timing to do so.
Bolt’s new personal best of 9.58 seconds in the 100 metres is the fastest ever legal time. Bolt also holds the second fastest time of 9.69 seconds. Tyson Gay recorded a time of 9.68 s at the 2008 US Olympic Trials, but was aided with a tail wind of 4.1 m/s, exceeding the legal limit of 2.0 m/s set by the IAAF and nullifying its inclusion as a world record. Obadele Thompson’s run of 9.69 s in 1996 is also not recognised as it was aided by a 5.0 m/s tail wind.
“Sobolious” is a word with no known meaning, probably first used by the Jamaican Dancehall performer L.A. Lewis in a radio interview with Barbara Blake-Hannah.
Bolt’s performance though is Soboltious !
I want to show people that I’m unique, different, talented and creative.
I know what I’ll do, I’ll get a tattoo just like everyone else.
Ridiculous isn’t it ? But this type of “Heavy Logix” and reasoning seems to be getting more and more popular.
Once tattoos were a fringe art or fad, a rarity seen mostly at Carnival sideshows or worn by the Yakuza but now they are definitely mainstream with every superstar, and athlete in the NBA, carrying at least one and all their fans following suit.
Jamaica as usual is catching on quickly to the trend and just about everyone seems to have a tat and want two or three more.
I’m not likely to ever get drunk or brave enough to have one done myself. These things are both painful and permanent. If I was getting one though I’d choose an Adinkra symbol.
The symbol I really love is Nyame something-or-other. I like it’s symetry and it’s meaning and the fact that it’s from Africa rather than European. I’m surprised more people aren’t using these symbols from Ghana as they’re very interesting and beautiful with a lot of meaning too.
Other tattoos I tend to like are the so called “tribals”, abstract designs with a bold forceful appeal.
I also like the Yin Yang symbol and variations of it. Another interesting tattoo idea is to have so called Ambigrams as a tattoo. These interesting Word-Art designs were made popular in the Novel ,Angels and Demons, written by, Davinci Code, author Dan Brown. He even named his famous hero after Ambigram artist John Langdon. Rapper Method Man for instance has an Ambigram tattoo that reads Death from one side and Life from the other.
Whatever you pick to be your tattoo please choose wisely. Laser surgery is a painful and expensive process and never looks as good as no tattoo at all.
Nowadays Every Body has a story. Literally.
Tattoos have been one of the most consistently popular searches on the net and the industry spawns books, magazines and laser surgery (to remove tattoos) as well.
While some feel it’s against their religion others make their tattoos carry a religious significance.
Before you Ink please Think.
In many religions it is customary, or even obligatory, for ahderents to pay homage, by travelling to a particular place, or holy site. They make a pilgrimage.
(This blog post is dedicated to Stunner, a great blogger and super-great photographer who I have never met but whose mental skills I appreciate.)
Nowadays, to protect his ego and perhaps avoid a lawsuit, or a warranty dispute, the poor workman will always be quick to tell his employer that he did a great job and that he put in tremendous work but results simply had to be constrained by the inadequacies of their equipment.
We’ve all heard the proverb “A Poor Workman Blames His Tool(s)” and it’s of course very true, but lately I’ve come to realize a slight twist on this ancient adage. The twisted, or Heavy Logix, version, of the proverb, goes like this, “People will always give your tool(s) credit, not your mind, for any good work done”.
I noticed it when I decided to start enjoying my hobbies more. I have many hobbies but wasn’t taking any of them seriously. This blog shows me starting to write again but I also began to take my many other interests, like photography and Music, more seriously too. I’ve been an amateur in all these areas for years but think I have some talent and I really enjoy them so although I didn’t have the funds to invest in any major zoom lens or even a tripod I began to use my little digital camera more often and put up some of these shots on my Facebook pages.
Whenever I take a decent photo though I notice that the praise from my so-called friends is always somewhat muted. They seem to think the camera did all the work and I just accidentally happened to be around at the same time. They don’t want to give me any credit.
For instance this shot I took recently at Devon House made one of my photographically inclined friends ask me all about the specs of my camera and the price. Even after he heard it was a no-name brand he still said he wants to buy one. (My camera is just a Mustek MDC830Z, digital point-and-shoot with 8.1 Megapixels).
I offered to swap his Top of the line Zoom lens SLR-camera for my no-name brand and haven’t heard back from him since. I was being a bit facetious but I feel the situation warrants it.
To me the notion that just buying the same camera will enable you to take similar quality shots is almost as ridiculous as thinking that if you get Stephen King’s pen you’ll suddenly be able to write like him.
Having a good Workman’s tools does not miraculously make you a good work man. I’m sorry to be blunt but the truth is if you have the equipment and can’t use it you will still fail to achieve the desired results.
The proof is in the Pudding. Practice makes perfect.Use your brain, be creative, that’s actually more important than having the most expensive camera or the biggest zoom on your lens.
I’m really talking photography here, please stay focused on the point. 🙂
If Brian Lara wore Obama’s suit could he then become a great President ? Now that he has Lara’s cricket bat do you really think that Obama is the Babe Ruth or the Michael Jordan of Cricket ?
While most people , myself included, use the week-end as a time to recharge and recreate themselves, I spent this one under an undue amount of stress and almost totally sleepless.
To begin with I had to see off my Mom who had been visiting all week and that meant rushing to the airport earlier than I’d normally wake up and then politely listening to various speeches about my procrastination and what I should do when I get money again. These speeches are great advice but I find I’m not really receptive to them right now because I feel stressed out and tired.
Being constantly told that you’re lazy and broke is not a great way to end either condition I surmised silently.
My wife suggested that I take my daughter along for the drive. I declined that lovely suggestion by reminding her that the car wasn’t working, all that well, and that our daughter can be more than a handful, even under the best of times, much less at an airport where you can’t even see the planes flying off anymore.
So it was just me and my mom in my car as we pulled up to the departure section of the airport. After I pulled her lone suitcase out of the trunk my mom quickly waved me off with a smile and a hug. I hugged her tighter than usual. One thing stress does is make you appreciate true and genuine friends and real family. I was missing her already, she was a tower of strength, always and I need that. They say men aren’t suppose to cry so I just got back in my car and didn’t look back, heading for home and some much needed sleep.
As I was driving back home, on the long Palisadoes strip, famous for being a speeding zone and offering great views of the sea on either side, my car started making a loud rattling noise. It’s hard to describe the sound, it felt and sounded like a metal strip was rubbing along the ground on the left side or something.My deeply mechanical mind immediately detected it’s the sound that a car makes when “something is wrong with the Engine”. I came out of the car hoping to see something stuck under the car was causing the noise but saw
nothing unusual. There’s a little flap hanging down a bit at the front end of the car but not low enough to be the source of the scraping, rattling noise.
Some NSWMA workers were sitting down nearby and observing me, amused. They talked, about the work, they might do later, if the sun cooled down and were fixing their various machines.The machines with rotating blades they used to thanklessly keep the prickly plants in that area in check.
One of them, a guy named Dwayne Kane asked if I was okay and I explained what I was doing looking under the car. “Something is wrong with the Engine”, I stated pontifically. I begged him for a phone call and he kindly lent me his cell. Mine had zero credit on it. I’m broke, remember ? I called my aunt, no doubt shortening her Sunday Sleep also and waited for help to come.
“Slavery done long time, Sunday is for cooking family dinner”, said one lady worker as she and her colleagues fumed in the heat packing bio-degradeable bags full of garbage, cuttings and other junk. I noticed she was dressed like she was going to a party while the others were in a NSWMA t-shirts and other makeshift protective garb. All of them agreed it was not a great day for work but they were all hesitant to ask their supervisor for a break. Eventually one lady was brave enough or hot enough to make the journey to the other side of the Palisadoes Road to ask a lady in a car about the possibility of leaving work early. The supervisor who sat in her air conditioned car signaled with a few deft waves of her hand that no such permission would be granted.
The female workers continued to bend over and pack bags and I continued to wait to be rescued occasionally peeking over at them as they peeked over at me.
Eventually after what seemed like hours probably because it was, my aunt arrived with her son-in-law, Ramesh, who assured me everything would be okay and said that the Wrecker was on it’s way. He slips me some funds with which to pay the man. Everyone knows I’m broke.
“Fix it and then Sell it “, was his shrewd advice and we sat in his luxurious car waiting for the wrecker to reach. I immediately noticed his dashboard had a jewel encrusted idol. A small figurine of the Hindu God Ganesha. Not that unusual, since Ramesh is born in India, but I had a previous encounter with this particular character, Ganesha. He scares me but I respect his power, this elephant-headed deity, known as, Ganesha. To his devotees he is said to be a “remover of obstacles”. I chose to take it as a good omen and relaxed a bit as we waited.
Ramesh shared several stories of his daily experiences in Jamaica with us. His son was in the car also and he turned to him and used me as an object lesson. “You see son, life is very hard.”
The wrecker came along soon enough and I was impressed with how quickly the man had my car hoisted up and ready to go.
Ramesh sped off with my aunt and his son, heroes fading into the sunset.
I climbed into the wrecker and directed the driver to my home many, many miles away.
On the journey the wrecker driver tells me of some of his previous jobs that day and I actually feel a bit lucky that I wasn’t wrapped around a tree or anything like that. We reach fairly quickly and he easily squeezes into the small driveway.
As we offload the car my young daughter starts screaming from inside the house asking why I took a bus home and my wife screams back at her telling her it’s not a bus its a wrecker.
My stress is over I am really home again. I pay the driver and then I close the gate only to hear a long time neighbor shouting from across the street. I soon realize he’s shouting at me and offering to help me whenever I’m ready to “shoot my car”. I muster a weak smile and say I’m ready now but really I’m too tired and hungry to do anything.
More broke and even more lazy than before, I limp back, tired, into my hermit’s cave, my house, my home, hoping simply for for some good old Sunday Sleep.
William Booth said, “There are men so incorrigibly lazy that no inducement that you can offer will tempt them to work; so eaten up by vice that virtue is abhorrent to them, and so inveterately dishonest that theft is to them a master passion. When a human being has reached that stage, there is only one course that can be rationally pursued. Sorrowfully, but remorselessly, it must be recognized that he has become lunatic, morally demented, incapable of self-government, and that upon him, therefore, must be passed the sentence of permanent seclusion from a world in which he is not fit to be at large.”
How could this happen ? What vile media could create such a being ? What films did they see to become so twisted ? So Moonstruck that their features no longer seem human ?
It’s not “Slumdog Millionaire” or anything to do with Will Smith. It’s not the latest release from Holly or Bolly wood. It’s been around from time immemorial, and for the last few nights it’s been the most watched late night show around the world.
I am referring to the Moon. Yep, good old Luna. She’s been at the brightest and fullest that you’re likely to see this year, over the last couple nights.
Amazed by the brilliance, I tried to capture it on my camera and realized sadly that there are times when Creativity and Desire are not enough. There are times when you really do need bigger and better equipment.
I use a little no-name point- and-shoot type digital camera and I’m totally happy with the results that come, my way, most of the time. If I can’t take a perfect photo quickly then I can usually fix it up using Photoshop and get adequate results. When it comes to shooting the moon however I am left feeling like a Midget in a Porn movie, a Eunuch in a harem, A Square Peg trying to fit in a Round hole, totally inadequate and unable to capture all that beauty.
You see ” Shooting the Moon”, even in a game of “Hearts”, is a difficult task, it’s really not for amateurs. Photographically speaking, for best results it requires a zoom lens of at least 300mm and a tripod.
Here’s a site which explains how you can go about it.
Judging from this Amazing photo he knows what he’s talking about.
The Beauty and Power of the Moon is undeniable, it controls the tides of the ocean and more mundane things too. For instance I’ve found that I tend to get migraine headaches around the time of a full moon. Some Astrologers say it controls the human emotions and others argue that murder rates rise and fall according to the Waning and Waxing of the Moon. “There is a tide in the affairs of Men”.
Such beliefs and observations make it easier to understand stories in various cultures of Werewolves. The Werewolf is a vicious killer but only during the time of the full moon, when he acts like a Lunatic. Luna-tic. Follower of the Moon. Drunk on Moonshine. Seems we’ve come full circle, that’s what Moons are all about. Full Circle.
Ezra Pound once said “I guess the definition of a lunatic is a man surrounded by them”. That’s the real problem, we’re all affected by the Moon but only very few are aware of it. The Moon itself is warping our perceptions of it’s effects. We end up surrounded by Lunatics not realizing it’s what makes us tick too.Luna-tic. It’s all about the Moon. That pretty lady shining bright , Luna. The White Lady.The Drug. Cocaine Ball in the Skies.
Maybe I’m just here talking Jabberwocky again but maybe,just maybe, if you got more aware of your Bio-Rhythms and the Energies Above you’d find yourself becoming Popular like a “Teen Wolf”.
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