Viewing: Mindfulness - View All Posts

SOLITUDE by Ella Wheeler Wilcox 



Laugh, and the world laughs with you; 

Weep, and you weep alone. 

For the sad old earth must borrow it's mirth,
But has trouble enough of its own. 


Sing, and the hills will answer; 

Sigh, it is lost on the air. 

The echoes bound to a joyful sound,
But shrink from voicing care. 



Rejoice, and men will seek you; 

Grieve, and they turn and go. 

They want full measure of all your pleasure,
But they do not need your woe. 


Be glad, and your friends are many; 

Be sad, and you lose them all.
There are none to decline your nectared wine, 

But alone you must drink life's gall. 



Feast, and your halls are crowded; 

Fast, and the world goes by. 

Succeed and give, and it helps you live, 

But no man can help you die.

There is room in the halls of pleasure 

For a long and lordly train, 

But one by one we must all file on 

Through the narrow aisles of pain.

TAKE CARE 



"Respect your efforts, respect yourself.
Self-respect leads to self-discipline.
When you have both firmly under your belt,
that's real power."
~Clint Eastwood

"We are all alone, born alone, die alone, and -- in spite of True Romance magazines -- we shall all someday look back on our lives and see that, in spite of our company, we were alone the whole way. I do not say lonely -- at least, not all the time -- but essentially, and finally, alone. This is what makes your self-respect so important, and I don't see how you can respect yourself if you must look in the hearts and minds of others for your happiness."
~Hunter S. Thompson

"R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Find out what it means to me.
R-E-S-P-E-C-T
Take care, TCB!"
~Aretha Franklin

A NEW DAY 



Finish every day and be done with it.
You have done what you could.

Some blunders and absurdities 
no doubt have crept in;
forget them as soon as you can.

Tomorrow is a new day;

begin it well and serenely
and with too high a spirit
to be cumbered with 
your old nonsense.

This day is all that is

good and fair. 
It is too dear,

with its hopes and invitations,

to waste a moment on yesterdays.

~Ralph Waldo Emerson

THREE VIEWS 


"A good film is when the price of the dinner, the theatre admission
and the babysitter were worth it."
~HITCHCOCK


"When you are working on a script, the story itself is not difficult.
You say this would happen and then this, resulting perhaps in this.
And the dialogue you make as true as you can."
~MALLE


"I always like to think of it as like, I've got 'em sittin' there,
whip a little message at 'em. Whip a little moral at 'em.
Whip a little of what my view of the world is.
Because that's what every good filmmaker does.
You can't change the world. You can't cure the world.
All you can do is be like, This is it through my eyes.
Do you agree or not agree?"
~SMITH

FINAL SOLILOQUY OF THE INTERIOR PARAMOUR by Wallace Stevens 



Light the first light of evening
In which we rest and, for small reason, think
The world imagined is the ultimate good.

This is, therefore, the intensest rendezvous.
It is in that thought that we collect ourselves,
Out of all the indifferences, into one thing:

Within a single thing, a single shawl
Wrapped tightly round us, since we are poor, a warmth,
A light, a power, the miraculous influence.

Here, now, we forget each other and ourselves.
We feel the obscurity of an order, a whole,
A knowledge, that which arranged the rendezvous.

Within its vital boundary, in the mind.
We say God and the imagination are one…
How high that highest candle lights the dark.

Out of this same light, out of the central mind,
We make a dwelling in the evening air,
In which being there together is enough.

SONG OF CHILDHOOD by Peter Handke 



When the child was a child
It walked with its arms swinging,
wanted the brook to be a river,
the river to be a torrent,
and this puddle to be the sea.

When the child was a child,
it didn’t know that it was a child,
everything was soulful,
and all souls were one.

When the child was a child,
it had no opinion about anything,
had no habits,
it often sat cross-legged,
took off running,
had a cowlick in its hair,
and made no faces when photographed.

When the child was a child,
It was the time for these questions:
Why am I me, and why not you?
Why am I here, and why not there?
When did time begin, and where does space end?
Is life under the sun not just a dream?
Is what I see and hear and smell
not just an illusion of a world before the world?
Given the facts of evil and people.
does evil really exist?
How can it be that I, who I am,
didn’t exist before I came to be,
and that, someday, I, who I am,
will no longer be who I am?

When the child was a child,
It choked on spinach, on peas, on rice pudding,
and on steamed cauliflower,
and eats all of those now, and not just because it has to.

When the child was a child,
it awoke once in a strange bed,
and now does so again and again.
Many people, then, seemed beautiful,
and now only a few do, by sheer luck.

It had visualized a clear image of Paradise,
and now can at most guess,
could not conceive of nothingness,
and shudders today at the thought.

When the child was a child,
It played with enthusiasm,
and, now, has just as much excitement as then,
but only when it concerns its work.

When the child was a child,
It was enough for it to eat an apple, … bread,
And so it is even now.

When the child was a child,
Berries filled its hand as only berries do,
and do even now,
Fresh walnuts made its tongue raw,
and do even now,
it had, on every mountaintop,
the longing for a higher mountain yet,
and in every city,
the longing for an even greater city,
and that is still so,
It reached for cherries in topmost branches of trees
with an elation it still has today,
has a shyness in front of strangers,
and has that even now.
It awaited the first snow,
And waits that way even now.

When the child was a child,
It threw a stick like a lance against a tree,
And it quivers there still today.
RSS