valete

Yesterday was my son Nick's last day of school. This is an excerpt from his Headmaster's [Fr Ross Jones] farewell speech:

Some of you now have quite a clear idea of what you want to do with your lives when you walk through those Wyalla gates for the last time. For others, your vocation will work its way through you like leaven over the next year or so. Then, what seemed like the dull dough of self you have been working with, will suddenly rise and take shape. Others still will make a dramatic change and choice later in life when some catalyst suddenly fires you up.

When you are deciding, when you are discerning ... go into your heart of hearts. That’s where you find truth. Search out that answer to “What must I do?” Not what pays most, or what mum and dad want, or what comes with more status and kudos. No – find that place where your deep gladness and the world’s deep hungers meet. Because if your “must” does not embrace others and serve others, it’s not a vocation. It’s simply self-indulgence. Find that “must” in your deepest self. Accept both the blessings and the burdens it will bring. And having chosen what you must do, then, as Rilke writes, “build your life in accordance with this necessity”.

I want you to leave here being “interior men” – not being seduced by the slick and superficial, not taken in by the transient, not chasing tinsel in the wind. I want each of you be a man of interiority, who knows where his heart is. A man who can read the heart’s signals and know its language. I want you each to go from here listening to your heart. And being bold and generous enough to follow its constant invitation.

the power of YOU

When you understand that what most people really, really want is simply to feel good about themselves, and when you realize that with just a few well-chosen words you can help virtually anyone on the planet instantly achieve this, you begin to realize just how simple life is, and how powerful you are.

because life is not a spectator sport

For a long time it seemed to me that my life was about to begin. But there was always something that needed to happen first, before it could begin. Something that needed to be finished. Something that needed to be done. Something that needed to happen. Then, my life would begin.

Eventually it dawned on me that these ‘somethings’ were my life. That I had been living my whole life in the waiting room:
… waiting for a friend to come
... or a plane to go
… or an email to arrive
… or the phone to ring
… for Friday night
… for better days
... for holidays
… for the sun to shine.

That was when I burst out of the waiting room, and started living for my life.

-- inspired by Dr. Seuss, Oh The Places You’ll Go

take YOUR self to a place where tourists don't go

My friends Michael and Zenga run Sangoma.

Head [north] west out of Sydney for 75 minutes, and be transformed.

me myself I

MYSELF

I have to live with myself and so
I want to be fit for myself to know.

I want to be able as days go by,
always to look myself straight in the eye;
I don't want to stand with the setting sun
and hate myself for the things I have done.

I don't want to keep on a closet shelf
a lot of secrets about myself
and fool myself as I come and go
into thinking no one else will ever know
the kind of person I really am,
I don't want to dress up myself in sham.

I want to go out with my head erect
I want to deserve all men's respect;
but here in the struggle for fame and wealth
I want to be able to like myself.

I don't want to look at myself and know
that I am bluster and bluff and empty show.

I never can hide myself from me;
I see what others may never see;
I know what others may never know,
I never can fool myself and so,
whatever happens I want to be
self respecting and conscience free.


-- Edgar Albert Guest

ode to YOU

stand out
walk alone
you're an original
not a clone

touch

What if you knew you'd be the last to touch someone?

If you were taking tickets, for example, at the theater, tearing them and handing back the stubs, you might take care to touch that palm as you gently brush your fingertips against his or hers.

When a man moves too slowly through the airport security check, when the car in front of me doesn't signal and I curse, when the girl working at the pharmacy doesn't say "thank you", I don't remember they're going to die.

A friend told me she'd been with her aunt. They'd just had lunch and the waiter, a young gay guy with smiling eyes, joked as he served the coffee, and kissed her aunt's powdered cheek when they left. Then they walked a half a block and her aunt dropped dead on the sidewalk.

So be nice to everyone you meet, because you just never know.

spring awakening

The Sun Grows In Your Smile

When you smile, the air grows warm and soft, the earth is watered with gentle mists, seeds sprout and spread leaves above the dark, damp soil, earthworms pierce the crust and frolic across the surface to the delight of fat, happily hunting thrushes, lilies of the valley unfurl beside purple, honey-scented wattles, fat pink and maroon waratahs, and gay daffidols, damask roses hurl their rich fragrance to the wind, the crazy-with-sheer-joy song of the lorikeet echoes above other chirps and sweet winged notes, gardeners join the worms in the warm, rich dirt, children gallop across yards and grab handfuls of dandelions to present to mothers who will set them in glasses of water in kitchen windows or on dining room tables, weeds glorious after the dark of winter with the color of the sun that grow and warm and heal in your smile.