CAN YOU CREATE A NEW IDENTITY?
I believe I can create my own deliberate identity.
Why? Why not?
Here is a story from my mom that created an identity.
“In the beginning was the word,” and most of them came from my mom. One of my earliest memories is of finding a Bible.
We lived in a 24’ trailer. I was three of four years old. Mom was pregnant with a child she would miscarry. Our trailer was parked next to the Grand Rhonde River in a trailer park in LaGrande, Oregon. Mom was very protective of her blonde haired, blue-eyed baby boy. This was spring of 1951. I wandered about fifty feet from the trailer, away from the raging river, and found a box of stuff another caravanning occupant abandoned. Looking through the box I found a small red book. It was just my size. I was curious. I took it back to mom and wanted to know what it was.
“This is a very important book. Don’t ever set anything on it. It’s a Bible and contains the story of God and how he created the world.” She said.
I realized the immensity and importance of these statements. This was not about instilling ‘river I’, ‘being quiet’, ‘eat your vegetables’ or ‘potty time.’ My attention was peaked.
“When you grow you are going to read these stories. You will read about God and how he created the world and the first people, Adam and Eve. How they had two boys Cain and Abel and how they found two girls and married.”
It was here that mom paused, and with very soft eyes through her glasses she created an imprint.
“Where did those girls come from?”
So here was an identity that wondered. A permanent door, or at least a window opened into areas of my being and stayed ajar.
Today I am evaluating how I recreated the questioner, and what happened?
Gary C. Smith Public Speaking & Trainings: Helping to sort your identities to know WHO YOU ARE.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Monday, July 28, 2008
Dear Buddi, July 24, 2005
“Inch by inch life a cinch, yard by yard its hard.” Said the Snail.
Ah I repeat myself, but if is good, do it again. I journey back three years and find….
The gradient approach to life. How do you eat a whole watermelon, the magic instructors once asked?
The epiphanies, kismets, revelations, original thoughts, and direct experiences occasionally revealed in my discipline of Avatar Fry Day appear hidden. The discipline required in telling a story of value to you my precious reader is especially challenging this week. I ponder have I evolved past doubt, staying out of the ruts of sameness and honor the wisdom of my teachers? Am I asking myself good questions? Am I ‘Slip sliding away’ as Paul Simon sings.
It is not the one lucky strike; it is the ability to string many lucky strikes that make a great bowler. How does the continuity of my day-to-day opportunities keep my creative spirit alive to share in this AFD? This AFD becomes a daily log, blog?
“Monday , Monday so good to me…can’t trust that day…sometimes it just works out that way.” Mamas and Papas did the singing, but I hear what I want, and make up my own words & meaning. Getting ready for Monday’s excites me, I love the preparation. I loved getting ready for school. School was the friends, the wisdom in books, teachers or in the work and words of a schoolmate. I take my schoolboy enthusiasm into life. ‘It is my attitude of appropriate fun, rapport, information, and compassion that keeps me on purpose and in demand to realtors, brokers and affiliates. I am an asset to whomever I contact!’ That’s my credo for work.
Tuesday was & still is Realtor Marketing meeting. My last week brochures went nowhere, so this week I went back to adding pictures. My original brochures had Jimmy Stewart photo, from the film Mr. Smith goes to Washington, the story of a down home senator who took on the bureaucrats. Filibustering to stop injustice and get his message across.
“Why is he on the flyers? Who is he anyway?” realtors asked. I thought the message was clear, I, another Mr. Smith, have an idea whose time has come. Do your diligence; disclose the truth, become accountable, a new idea to make-work easier and risk free liability.
Next brochure I went with Arnold, the Gubernator. Get fit, and stay toned with our Home Owners Document review. It was a early pose in speedos.
I loved it when someone asked, “Is that you?”
I’d never be caught in shorts like that. The flyer did create interest.
On Thursday, while making a presentation to a ‘condo specialist’, she asked if I had any marketing literature. She was looking at the review binder, excited about our service, as I dug thru my flyers and showed her Arnold's photo. She was aghast, insulted, and distraught, in shock at the lack of professionalism. Got her attention! Oops, wrong attention. But marketing a new product first they have to know you and the product exist. She now knows we exist. I didn’t tell her the flyer was for realtors and not the public, or that the hidden intent was that the Gubernator wanted HOA’s get into the fitness’s mode. Oh well.
Tuesday afternoon I got a call from a broker saying he has an HOA Review interest. I have an appointment for Wednesday morning. I create a threefold intention,, 1-I want to get to know them. 2-For them to know our service. 3-For them to get to know and remember me, so I tell my story of my Great Granddad Thomas, the Royal Plumber to Queen Victoria and King Edward. It was he who invented the toilet, the Crapper. It’s an exercise to see all the places that you can use the word crap in a sentence with reference to your buddi, great grandson Gary. I always get a laugh. Toliet humor is still very popular so I started putting a picture of great granddad Thomas Crapper on the flyer.
I can see me in his portrait, the facial hair, and the whimsical look of making money while on the crapper. I get a call from the broker saying do the HOA review..
Wednesday is coaching night with Practical Resources, David & George my new mentors into the Real Estate world, want me to fly to LA Monday to help with their seminars. I’m in motion again. I begin to feel like Jello, an ambivalent glop of goop contained in an unknown mold. I shudder and shake while looking at homes for sale, contemplate two other brokers interests, prep for the classes next week to the National Association of Hispanic Real Estate Professionals and to an HOA with parking problems.
I stayed grounded this week with fitness classes each day, BBQ’s each evening and ‘nothing’ time to absorb the events. Maybe I’m more Popsicle than Jello, the 111-degree heat adding to the melting.
Friday, It's been a great week to extend an AFD, feel my way looking for ‘right view.’ I read Harry Palmer, “It means that you don’t impose your own beliefs upon things….Right view means you see things as they are, and when you see things as they are, the nature of things begin to make sense.”
What makes sense to me is road trip, or boat trip. The Carquienz straits out our window have the sea foam cutting across the water, the fog has lifted and I’m going to take the ferry to SF to solidify my intent about WHAT’S NEXT.
I’m early at the Vallejo ferry building humming ”Sitting on the dock of the wasting time…” “If life is a waste of time, and time is a waste of life, then let's all get wasted together and have the time of our lives,” written on Armand's Plaza, Washington , DC. I pull out my rugged writing pad, and write. The air feels lighter, the breeze ruffles the flags, the smell is clean like a mountain stream, not fishy diesel. Two hundred yards across the inlet is an aircraft carrier being disembodied by Star Wars like cranes. There is an old paddle wheeler waiting its turn. On the road behind me are parked two 1947 Packard convertible limos. Shiny chrome and cream, a champagne bucket waiting to cruise up to Napa. It feels like Fred Astaire singing “Heaven, I’m in heaven, and I can hardly stand a moment…”. I meet the limo drivers, sit on the pleated Naugahyde and file this under things to do. I’ve added a chauffeured road trip to Napa as a compelling future.
It’s time to queue up for the 55-minute trip to the renovated San Francisco Ferry Building. My spongy Jello character has been transformed by the adventure into the explorer. My view of time has shifted, the shape and sizes of ships and objects become clearer almost psychedelic in the sharpness. I have a gestalt of forms countering the separation of all things into this is that, and that is this. Its my call, my day to just let it be. I am not lost, nor skipping over the surface of the water like the orange balloon that landed on the water being blown upstream. Everywhere I look is something I haven’t noticed before.
I practice my smile. Smiling at guys while ferrying to SF might bring up a judgment of being ‘gay.’ I create a version of the Compassion Exercise where I put my attention on a person and imagine what I was like at that age, or with that attitude-the Asian woman smoker doing a crossword, the three year old racing around the cabin, the embarrassed teenager huddled with peers, the one who looks like my mom traveling with her mom my nana, the old guy with hat and shirt endorsing Mercury boats. “Just like me, this person is learning about life.”
I am getting high, maybe one of those promised flashbacks as I head to the City to visit the ghost of Ken Kesey and his band of Merry Pranksters. Professor Mark at U of Oregon has resurrected the Prankster bus Furrther to take the acid test., which I passed with A’s, and tutored many an initiate.
"The answer is never the answer. What's really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you'll always be seeking. I've never seen anybody really find the answer-- they think they have, so they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom. The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer." Ken Kesey.
I return to pen and pad and use some Creativism to script my SF trip. I want to meet some people, stand out in the open air while we are cruising. Raleen and I once saw a whale on this cruise so seeing one is scripted in. I want to see children being kind to each other, feel the rush of sailboats passing, a view of Emperor Norton’s new bay bridge, lots of shade, and a large dose of the unexpected, coupled with laughter, and a nice lunch. I’ll walk to SBC ballpark.
The Ferry building has been transformed into an agora of farmers markets and restaurants. Hundreds buying peaches, tomatoes, & breads. I taste the sweetest wheat grass juice. Walking down the Embarcadero I spy a strange movement a block ahead. It looks like camels asses.(Ah another version of PigLips, a pattern interrupt and transderivational search) I speed up to catch the parade or a march of some kind. The camels are rattan coolie caps, worn by men and women in black robes. They are led by a blind Asian man with a seeing eye dog, and a Buddhist monk beating a drum. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap tap. The hats have written in felt pen upon the top “The Full Circle to Trinity.”
“What’s happening I ask a video cameramen with his sound guy. “I’m doing a documentary on the blind guy. He’s from Hiroshima. They are walking to Trinity, New Mexico, site of the first atomic bomb, 1,600 miles. We just started at the Ferry building."
Well I never thought of scripting this, but I join. I even check to see if I have my AMEX card so I can go all the way. I’m flooded with images of growing up “Put your hands on your head, your head between your legs, and kiss your ass good bye." From the early 1950’s till the Berlin Wall fell I expected the world to be nuked. No sense planning heavily on the future, might as well retire now. Be Here Now became an epiphany of the NEW CLEAR AGE, because there wasn’t going to be a then.
At SBC park we all stop, only 1599 miles to go, and everyone gets bottled water, and some check their ‘cells’ for messages. Pictures are taken. A prayer and chant begin under the bronze statue of Willie Mays. Without my AMEX card I choose to Mecca around the ballpark. The green grass of the IN-field was my first hope of salvation in this life. There was no meaning to life till I made meaning as a six year old with the other players, the bats, the ball, gloves, uniforms, a team, the game. Winning, being a good sport, playing fair, hustling, were my lessons before the magicians, sages and avatars ever appeared. Lessons in paying attention, eye on the ball, joining with others for a common (often uncommon) goal.
So the ballpark is a full circle, a loop that can be entered at any time. Being inside a creation, experiencing self and others from compassion and new and different ways of looking at life. This week I again proved to myself that I do keep the magic alive.
Namaste, Gary
“Inch by inch life a cinch, yard by yard its hard.” Said the Snail.
Ah I repeat myself, but if is good, do it again. I journey back three years and find….
The gradient approach to life. How do you eat a whole watermelon, the magic instructors once asked?
The epiphanies, kismets, revelations, original thoughts, and direct experiences occasionally revealed in my discipline of Avatar Fry Day appear hidden. The discipline required in telling a story of value to you my precious reader is especially challenging this week. I ponder have I evolved past doubt, staying out of the ruts of sameness and honor the wisdom of my teachers? Am I asking myself good questions? Am I ‘Slip sliding away’ as Paul Simon sings.
It is not the one lucky strike; it is the ability to string many lucky strikes that make a great bowler. How does the continuity of my day-to-day opportunities keep my creative spirit alive to share in this AFD? This AFD becomes a daily log, blog?
“Monday , Monday so good to me…can’t trust that day…sometimes it just works out that way.” Mamas and Papas did the singing, but I hear what I want, and make up my own words & meaning. Getting ready for Monday’s excites me, I love the preparation. I loved getting ready for school. School was the friends, the wisdom in books, teachers or in the work and words of a schoolmate. I take my schoolboy enthusiasm into life. ‘It is my attitude of appropriate fun, rapport, information, and compassion that keeps me on purpose and in demand to realtors, brokers and affiliates. I am an asset to whomever I contact!’ That’s my credo for work.
Tuesday was & still is Realtor Marketing meeting. My last week brochures went nowhere, so this week I went back to adding pictures. My original brochures had Jimmy Stewart photo, from the film Mr. Smith goes to Washington, the story of a down home senator who took on the bureaucrats. Filibustering to stop injustice and get his message across.
“Why is he on the flyers? Who is he anyway?” realtors asked. I thought the message was clear, I, another Mr. Smith, have an idea whose time has come. Do your diligence; disclose the truth, become accountable, a new idea to make-work easier and risk free liability.
Next brochure I went with Arnold, the Gubernator. Get fit, and stay toned with our Home Owners Document review. It was a early pose in speedos.
I loved it when someone asked, “Is that you?”
I’d never be caught in shorts like that. The flyer did create interest.
On Thursday, while making a presentation to a ‘condo specialist’, she asked if I had any marketing literature. She was looking at the review binder, excited about our service, as I dug thru my flyers and showed her Arnold's photo. She was aghast, insulted, and distraught, in shock at the lack of professionalism. Got her attention! Oops, wrong attention. But marketing a new product first they have to know you and the product exist. She now knows we exist. I didn’t tell her the flyer was for realtors and not the public, or that the hidden intent was that the Gubernator wanted HOA’s get into the fitness’s mode. Oh well.
Tuesday afternoon I got a call from a broker saying he has an HOA Review interest. I have an appointment for Wednesday morning. I create a threefold intention,, 1-I want to get to know them. 2-For them to know our service. 3-For them to get to know and remember me, so I tell my story of my Great Granddad Thomas, the Royal Plumber to Queen Victoria and King Edward. It was he who invented the toilet, the Crapper. It’s an exercise to see all the places that you can use the word crap in a sentence with reference to your buddi, great grandson Gary. I always get a laugh. Toliet humor is still very popular so I started putting a picture of great granddad Thomas Crapper on the flyer.
I can see me in his portrait, the facial hair, and the whimsical look of making money while on the crapper. I get a call from the broker saying do the HOA review..
Wednesday is coaching night with Practical Resources, David & George my new mentors into the Real Estate world, want me to fly to LA Monday to help with their seminars. I’m in motion again. I begin to feel like Jello, an ambivalent glop of goop contained in an unknown mold. I shudder and shake while looking at homes for sale, contemplate two other brokers interests, prep for the classes next week to the National Association of Hispanic Real Estate Professionals and to an HOA with parking problems.
I stayed grounded this week with fitness classes each day, BBQ’s each evening and ‘nothing’ time to absorb the events. Maybe I’m more Popsicle than Jello, the 111-degree heat adding to the melting.
Friday, It's been a great week to extend an AFD, feel my way looking for ‘right view.’ I read Harry Palmer, “It means that you don’t impose your own beliefs upon things….Right view means you see things as they are, and when you see things as they are, the nature of things begin to make sense.”
What makes sense to me is road trip, or boat trip. The Carquienz straits out our window have the sea foam cutting across the water, the fog has lifted and I’m going to take the ferry to SF to solidify my intent about WHAT’S NEXT.
I’m early at the Vallejo ferry building humming ”Sitting on the dock of the wasting time…” “If life is a waste of time, and time is a waste of life, then let's all get wasted together and have the time of our lives,” written on Armand's Plaza, Washington , DC. I pull out my rugged writing pad, and write. The air feels lighter, the breeze ruffles the flags, the smell is clean like a mountain stream, not fishy diesel. Two hundred yards across the inlet is an aircraft carrier being disembodied by Star Wars like cranes. There is an old paddle wheeler waiting its turn. On the road behind me are parked two 1947 Packard convertible limos. Shiny chrome and cream, a champagne bucket waiting to cruise up to Napa. It feels like Fred Astaire singing “Heaven, I’m in heaven, and I can hardly stand a moment…”. I meet the limo drivers, sit on the pleated Naugahyde and file this under things to do. I’ve added a chauffeured road trip to Napa as a compelling future.
It’s time to queue up for the 55-minute trip to the renovated San Francisco Ferry Building. My spongy Jello character has been transformed by the adventure into the explorer. My view of time has shifted, the shape and sizes of ships and objects become clearer almost psychedelic in the sharpness. I have a gestalt of forms countering the separation of all things into this is that, and that is this. Its my call, my day to just let it be. I am not lost, nor skipping over the surface of the water like the orange balloon that landed on the water being blown upstream. Everywhere I look is something I haven’t noticed before.
I practice my smile. Smiling at guys while ferrying to SF might bring up a judgment of being ‘gay.’ I create a version of the Compassion Exercise where I put my attention on a person and imagine what I was like at that age, or with that attitude-the Asian woman smoker doing a crossword, the three year old racing around the cabin, the embarrassed teenager huddled with peers, the one who looks like my mom traveling with her mom my nana, the old guy with hat and shirt endorsing Mercury boats. “Just like me, this person is learning about life.”
I am getting high, maybe one of those promised flashbacks as I head to the City to visit the ghost of Ken Kesey and his band of Merry Pranksters. Professor Mark at U of Oregon has resurrected the Prankster bus Furrther to take the acid test., which I passed with A’s, and tutored many an initiate.
"The answer is never the answer. What's really interesting is the mystery. If you seek the mystery instead of the answer, you'll always be seeking. I've never seen anybody really find the answer-- they think they have, so they stop thinking. But the job is to seek mystery, evoke mystery, plant a garden in which strange plants grow and mysteries bloom. The need for mystery is greater than the need for an answer." Ken Kesey.
I return to pen and pad and use some Creativism to script my SF trip. I want to meet some people, stand out in the open air while we are cruising. Raleen and I once saw a whale on this cruise so seeing one is scripted in. I want to see children being kind to each other, feel the rush of sailboats passing, a view of Emperor Norton’s new bay bridge, lots of shade, and a large dose of the unexpected, coupled with laughter, and a nice lunch. I’ll walk to SBC ballpark.
The Ferry building has been transformed into an agora of farmers markets and restaurants. Hundreds buying peaches, tomatoes, & breads. I taste the sweetest wheat grass juice. Walking down the Embarcadero I spy a strange movement a block ahead. It looks like camels asses.(Ah another version of PigLips, a pattern interrupt and transderivational search) I speed up to catch the parade or a march of some kind. The camels are rattan coolie caps, worn by men and women in black robes. They are led by a blind Asian man with a seeing eye dog, and a Buddhist monk beating a drum. Tap, tap, tap, tap, tap tap. The hats have written in felt pen upon the top “The Full Circle to Trinity.”
“What’s happening I ask a video cameramen with his sound guy. “I’m doing a documentary on the blind guy. He’s from Hiroshima. They are walking to Trinity, New Mexico, site of the first atomic bomb, 1,600 miles. We just started at the Ferry building."
Well I never thought of scripting this, but I join. I even check to see if I have my AMEX card so I can go all the way. I’m flooded with images of growing up “Put your hands on your head, your head between your legs, and kiss your ass good bye." From the early 1950’s till the Berlin Wall fell I expected the world to be nuked. No sense planning heavily on the future, might as well retire now. Be Here Now became an epiphany of the NEW CLEAR AGE, because there wasn’t going to be a then.
At SBC park we all stop, only 1599 miles to go, and everyone gets bottled water, and some check their ‘cells’ for messages. Pictures are taken. A prayer and chant begin under the bronze statue of Willie Mays. Without my AMEX card I choose to Mecca around the ballpark. The green grass of the IN-field was my first hope of salvation in this life. There was no meaning to life till I made meaning as a six year old with the other players, the bats, the ball, gloves, uniforms, a team, the game. Winning, being a good sport, playing fair, hustling, were my lessons before the magicians, sages and avatars ever appeared. Lessons in paying attention, eye on the ball, joining with others for a common (often uncommon) goal.
So the ballpark is a full circle, a loop that can be entered at any time. Being inside a creation, experiencing self and others from compassion and new and different ways of looking at life. This week I again proved to myself that I do keep the magic alive.
Namaste, Gary
Thursday, July 24, 2008
Freeing my Attention
Let’s explore attention. Maybe we find a link to our being, even pure Beingness.
Taking a gradient approach to learning, it’s important to share the material.
With attention on empowering the audience I first had to free my own attention. Handle my own fixed attention on:
I am not prepared.
Who do I think I am?
They won’t show up.
They’ll forget the book.
They’ll hate me.
This is just like school and they hate school.
This is Boring.
Then My BIASED ATTENTION:
They don’t care.
They’re uninterested.
They are going to resist.
Then My OTHER DIRECTED ATTENTION:
I don’t have to do this.
This is weird.
Then My DISORIENTED ATTENTION:
I can’t pay enough attention to do the exercise.
I wish I was somewhere, anywhere else.
I can’t pay attention THIS time of the month. These hot flashes.
What’s this all about?
And then the audience PARTICIPATED! Life's a party when you participate.
The class emphasis was on how to improve consulting skills with clients with free attention. How working on attention opens channels to understanding and creativity.
“This class opened my mind to new ideas.”
We laughed a lot. We saw how we tag our attention with beliefs and emotions, which is not the same as being present.
THEY PARTICIPATED!
“Wow, paying attention is really an investment in my future.” said one in the front.
“I am going home and look at my house through ‘baby eyes.” said the tall guy.
"I am my attention." said the woman behind the blond.
"Paying attention, free attention is better than Prozac." said the guy in the corner.
"We are all attention junkets" said the lady realtor.
"It'as shocking how much attention we can really have if we really, really want it ." Me
Life's a gradient approach, "Inch by Inch life's a cinch. Yard by yard its very hard." Sign in a Chinese restaurant in St. Johns, Oregon.
Namaste
gary
Taking a gradient approach to learning, it’s important to share the material.
With attention on empowering the audience I first had to free my own attention. Handle my own fixed attention on:
I am not prepared.
Who do I think I am?
They won’t show up.
They’ll forget the book.
They’ll hate me.
This is just like school and they hate school.
This is Boring.
Then My BIASED ATTENTION:
They don’t care.
They’re uninterested.
They are going to resist.
Then My OTHER DIRECTED ATTENTION:
I don’t have to do this.
This is weird.
Then My DISORIENTED ATTENTION:
I can’t pay enough attention to do the exercise.
I wish I was somewhere, anywhere else.
I can’t pay attention THIS time of the month. These hot flashes.
What’s this all about?
And then the audience PARTICIPATED! Life's a party when you participate.
The class emphasis was on how to improve consulting skills with clients with free attention. How working on attention opens channels to understanding and creativity.
“This class opened my mind to new ideas.”
We laughed a lot. We saw how we tag our attention with beliefs and emotions, which is not the same as being present.
THEY PARTICIPATED!
“Wow, paying attention is really an investment in my future.” said one in the front.
“I am going home and look at my house through ‘baby eyes.” said the tall guy.
"I am my attention." said the woman behind the blond.
"Paying attention, free attention is better than Prozac." said the guy in the corner.
"We are all attention junkets" said the lady realtor.
"It'as shocking how much attention we can really have if we really, really want it ." Me
Life's a gradient approach, "Inch by Inch life's a cinch. Yard by yard its very hard." Sign in a Chinese restaurant in St. Johns, Oregon.
Namaste
gary
Monday, July 21, 2008
“Everything great must have its story.”
--Found on a tin of Velamints.
“In olden days when a storyteller comes to the end of her tale, she places the palm of her hand on the ground and says,
‘I put my story here so that someone else may take it up another day.”
What’s your story?
Stories can change your world. Make it better. Add wisdom. Provide meaning and stir up emotions and insight that you will rely upon and treasure forever.
Stories change minds, deliver messages, uncover the wrong or find the right and make life more memorable. And it’s those memories of stories that keep us all going…”
All of us have stories. Stories of times when we made a difference. Stories as unique as person telling the story. But like so many skills & art forms it takes a coach to bring out the best.
We are losing our ability to tell stories. Much of our history is being re-written, spun to an agenda. Generations have lost the ability to pass on wisdom, know how, kindness & compassion.
The oldest generation experienced life in ways never to be seen or heard again. Each individual was part of the power of that NOW.
You have a message. You have meaning to that message that needs to be passed on, not passed over. It is an important time to formulate your message and deliver that message in writing, but more importantly by word of mouth. To break the media cycle of human less communication and use the SPOKEN WORD to preserve and share your wisdom, hopes & fears, doubts & triumphs, and most importantly your unique POINTS OF VIEW. Speaking to groups, family or friends they need to hear as much as you need to speak your voice. We are not just aging; we have aged to being an elder, with a message, and its time to speak up.
Having reached the magical age of 60, I am is coaching those who wish to share their message. I deal with the fear of public speaking, assist with providing and editing content, connect with the 93% of communication beyond words, and shares the fun and meaning of your message.
What's your story?
Namaste Gary
--Found on a tin of Velamints.
“In olden days when a storyteller comes to the end of her tale, she places the palm of her hand on the ground and says,
‘I put my story here so that someone else may take it up another day.”
What’s your story?
Stories can change your world. Make it better. Add wisdom. Provide meaning and stir up emotions and insight that you will rely upon and treasure forever.
Stories change minds, deliver messages, uncover the wrong or find the right and make life more memorable. And it’s those memories of stories that keep us all going…”
All of us have stories. Stories of times when we made a difference. Stories as unique as person telling the story. But like so many skills & art forms it takes a coach to bring out the best.
We are losing our ability to tell stories. Much of our history is being re-written, spun to an agenda. Generations have lost the ability to pass on wisdom, know how, kindness & compassion.
The oldest generation experienced life in ways never to be seen or heard again. Each individual was part of the power of that NOW.
You have a message. You have meaning to that message that needs to be passed on, not passed over. It is an important time to formulate your message and deliver that message in writing, but more importantly by word of mouth. To break the media cycle of human less communication and use the SPOKEN WORD to preserve and share your wisdom, hopes & fears, doubts & triumphs, and most importantly your unique POINTS OF VIEW. Speaking to groups, family or friends they need to hear as much as you need to speak your voice. We are not just aging; we have aged to being an elder, with a message, and its time to speak up.
Having reached the magical age of 60, I am is coaching those who wish to share their message. I deal with the fear of public speaking, assist with providing and editing content, connect with the 93% of communication beyond words, and shares the fun and meaning of your message.
What's your story?
Namaste Gary
Tuesday, July 15, 2008
Explorer or searcher?
It feels marvelous to step a wave of the renaissance of our lives. We live in such mobile magical times of muses, museums, and music from all over the planet. Mystic words connecting the esoteric past toward an enlightened future. The joys of being present in appreciation with enthusiastic explorers.
As with 'this & that' there is a difference feeling between “exploring” and “searching.”
When young I explored new places and had new experiences. I decided where to go and how to proceed. It was an adventure, the thrill in discovering new places and seeing new things. But something strange happened. I discovered that my cub scout knife is Lost! Was it left behind or what? You search your memory, then your pockets (George Carlin searches in the frozen avocado dip for his lost keys-they just might have fallen in the freezer)You go back over the same terrain, retracing your steps, but now you are in the mental state of the searcher. You look here & there, your desperation brings you to the edge of tears. Perhaps you offer a prayer or two. (Dear Lord I’ll do anything...and then the begging and bribing if you just lead me to my missing…)
Your lost. Life is no longer an adventure. The thrill and excitement are suppressed by the anguish you feel. There is a filter over your eyes that turn everything into a disappointment. New experiences and potential opportunities present themselves, but they are not what you are looking for.
Even if you succeed in finding the item, the trauma of having lost it may persist. If it does, you stop exploring or searching and begin protecting. Until a person recovers the PLAYFULNESS OF EXPLORING, most of their deliberate actions will be motivated by a desire to find, to protect or to avoid something. We have become to motivated by fear.
Are we expolring or just searching, you decide.
For years I have worked toward having direct experiences and original thought(s). The concepts fed each other, or led to each other. They were not quite as rare as a unicorn.
Occasionally I’d have an original thought and voila’, I have a direct experience (DE). Or I free attention and have a direct experience, and an original thought (OT) pops.
Perhaps I am being over simple, I am Gary Smith, one of the thousands of Gary Smiths’ inhabiting the US of A, a simple soul, seeming cloned to consume in the media mainstream of the matrix, bred to do what has always been done. Nice likable guy, pretending to blah, blah.
“Gary, Gary not a bit contrary,” my eighth grade teacher wrote in my junior high yearbook. I didn’t know what contrary meant, so I got a dictionary; figured he felt I was ordinary, not different. I was like everyone else. I had wanted to be like everyone else, but that was boring, so I grew some hair, painted my tennis shoes purple and became a rebel seeking a cause.
I did a lot of seeking, some looking and much later, my seeking evolved inot exploring, and I defined my new treasures as Direct Experience and Original Thought.
DE has no cliché police or spin doctors commentating. DE can’t be a habit, or memory, or rerun ‘been there done that.’ It’s not pretending. If I experience without judging, categorizing, condoning, intoning, but DIRECTLY feel, see, sense, smell, hear, this moment, then its mine, I can create from here.
Presence becomes a present.
OT is more than ‘another way to look at a thing’, exaggeration, or plagiarism, but an epiphany, insight or breaking the bubble of ‘same old same old' (soso)It’s inspiring.
It inspired me to the Original Thought and Direct Experience new dance tune, with a great beat. You can waltz, tango or slow dance with a partner, or find a new buddi, or solo.
I have found the need to balance a rhythm in me.
How does my rhythm keep feeding DE and create OT?
My aerobic stepping class keeps me into the rhythm of direct experience. I play the balancer where the magic extra moment in each second, each musical beat, becomes infinity in which to practice and perform in the timeless moment of dance. This class is also a Checking Back Inn. Step class is a great place to work on attention.
The landscaping and gardening of our Crockett Lovenest keep me feeling the rhythm of nature. Weeding, fertilizing, watering as metaphor and care for(s) of the rhythm adding emotion too the physical. It’s caring for my animal and the planet. It keeps me in touch with others, creates results, and the sharing and caring of “work being love made visible.” The beauty and transformation form rhythms of change and a dance that counterpoints the contrary. I must think, decide, act, and spend much time listening.
My life does play to the muse of happiness. Playing with the arts, nourishing the mind and the body.
Our peach tree
feeds the two large bucks
who rule our street at 3 am,
leaving peach pits as reminders
of Stag Nation.
Playing peaches picker, pie producer, pitching peach pits, preaching peach poems, practicing prose, with a dollop of French vanilla ice cream, are a Direct Experience of bliss.
Writing Avatar Fry Days blogs keep me inspired by inspiring others. How else can Gary, Gary not be ordinary?
Namaste
Gary
As with 'this & that' there is a difference feeling between “exploring” and “searching.”
When young I explored new places and had new experiences. I decided where to go and how to proceed. It was an adventure, the thrill in discovering new places and seeing new things. But something strange happened. I discovered that my cub scout knife is Lost! Was it left behind or what? You search your memory, then your pockets (George Carlin searches in the frozen avocado dip for his lost keys-they just might have fallen in the freezer)You go back over the same terrain, retracing your steps, but now you are in the mental state of the searcher. You look here & there, your desperation brings you to the edge of tears. Perhaps you offer a prayer or two. (Dear Lord I’ll do anything...and then the begging and bribing if you just lead me to my missing…)
Your lost. Life is no longer an adventure. The thrill and excitement are suppressed by the anguish you feel. There is a filter over your eyes that turn everything into a disappointment. New experiences and potential opportunities present themselves, but they are not what you are looking for.
Even if you succeed in finding the item, the trauma of having lost it may persist. If it does, you stop exploring or searching and begin protecting. Until a person recovers the PLAYFULNESS OF EXPLORING, most of their deliberate actions will be motivated by a desire to find, to protect or to avoid something. We have become to motivated by fear.
Are we expolring or just searching, you decide.
For years I have worked toward having direct experiences and original thought(s). The concepts fed each other, or led to each other. They were not quite as rare as a unicorn.
Occasionally I’d have an original thought and voila’, I have a direct experience (DE). Or I free attention and have a direct experience, and an original thought (OT) pops.
Perhaps I am being over simple, I am Gary Smith, one of the thousands of Gary Smiths’ inhabiting the US of A, a simple soul, seeming cloned to consume in the media mainstream of the matrix, bred to do what has always been done. Nice likable guy, pretending to blah, blah.
“Gary, Gary not a bit contrary,” my eighth grade teacher wrote in my junior high yearbook. I didn’t know what contrary meant, so I got a dictionary; figured he felt I was ordinary, not different. I was like everyone else. I had wanted to be like everyone else, but that was boring, so I grew some hair, painted my tennis shoes purple and became a rebel seeking a cause.
I did a lot of seeking, some looking and much later, my seeking evolved inot exploring, and I defined my new treasures as Direct Experience and Original Thought.
DE has no cliché police or spin doctors commentating. DE can’t be a habit, or memory, or rerun ‘been there done that.’ It’s not pretending. If I experience without judging, categorizing, condoning, intoning, but DIRECTLY feel, see, sense, smell, hear, this moment, then its mine, I can create from here.
Presence becomes a present.
OT is more than ‘another way to look at a thing’, exaggeration, or plagiarism, but an epiphany, insight or breaking the bubble of ‘same old same old' (soso)It’s inspiring.
It inspired me to the Original Thought and Direct Experience new dance tune, with a great beat. You can waltz, tango or slow dance with a partner, or find a new buddi, or solo.
I have found the need to balance a rhythm in me.
How does my rhythm keep feeding DE and create OT?
My aerobic stepping class keeps me into the rhythm of direct experience. I play the balancer where the magic extra moment in each second, each musical beat, becomes infinity in which to practice and perform in the timeless moment of dance. This class is also a Checking Back Inn. Step class is a great place to work on attention.
The landscaping and gardening of our Crockett Lovenest keep me feeling the rhythm of nature. Weeding, fertilizing, watering as metaphor and care for(s) of the rhythm adding emotion too the physical. It’s caring for my animal and the planet. It keeps me in touch with others, creates results, and the sharing and caring of “work being love made visible.” The beauty and transformation form rhythms of change and a dance that counterpoints the contrary. I must think, decide, act, and spend much time listening.
My life does play to the muse of happiness. Playing with the arts, nourishing the mind and the body.
Our peach tree
feeds the two large bucks
who rule our street at 3 am,
leaving peach pits as reminders
of Stag Nation.
Playing peaches picker, pie producer, pitching peach pits, preaching peach poems, practicing prose, with a dollop of French vanilla ice cream, are a Direct Experience of bliss.
Writing Avatar Fry Days blogs keep me inspired by inspiring others. How else can Gary, Gary not be ordinary?
Namaste
Gary
Sunday, July 13, 2008
National Convience Store Day
July 11 or 7/11 National Convience Store Day
The Meaning of Meaning?
A day dedicated to respecting the ease of 24 hour shopping.
A beer, soda, water, laundry soap at 3 am, a Slurpee, Abu from the Simpson’s.
An end to Ma&Pa stores, or their savior?
Convenient, an object of joy.
Convience a verb of effortlessness.
Certainly not Alice Restaurant, because you can’t get anything you want,
but you can get an apple, an orange, banana, a packet of Energy vitamins,
the News, briquettes, baggies, huggies, a man with a gun, the aroma of coffee,
cigarettes by the millions.
Amid rotating hot dogs emanating the aura of service indifference.
I am reminded of Gods’ last words to mankind, written in mile high letters,
“Sorry for the Inconvience.”
-A message from one of my bibles,
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, which gave such gems of wisdom as
“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”
“The importance of knowing where one’s towel is.”
“See first, think later.”
And the Guides entry about Earth,
“Mostly harmless.”
My pondering of Life, the Universe, and Everything
leads to the real assets of humanity, our will and our attention.
How convenient to have tools of power, enlivenment, stimulation, pleasure,
awakening the miracle of being alive 24/7.
Namaste Gary
The Meaning of Meaning?
A day dedicated to respecting the ease of 24 hour shopping.
A beer, soda, water, laundry soap at 3 am, a Slurpee, Abu from the Simpson’s.
An end to Ma&Pa stores, or their savior?
Convenient, an object of joy.
Convience a verb of effortlessness.
Certainly not Alice Restaurant, because you can’t get anything you want,
but you can get an apple, an orange, banana, a packet of Energy vitamins,
the News, briquettes, baggies, huggies, a man with a gun, the aroma of coffee,
cigarettes by the millions.
Amid rotating hot dogs emanating the aura of service indifference.
I am reminded of Gods’ last words to mankind, written in mile high letters,
“Sorry for the Inconvience.”
-A message from one of my bibles,
The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, which gave such gems of wisdom as
“Time is an illusion. Lunchtime doubly so.”
“The importance of knowing where one’s towel is.”
“See first, think later.”
And the Guides entry about Earth,
“Mostly harmless.”
My pondering of Life, the Universe, and Everything
leads to the real assets of humanity, our will and our attention.
How convenient to have tools of power, enlivenment, stimulation, pleasure,
awakening the miracle of being alive 24/7.
Namaste Gary
Tuesday, July 8, 2008
Rewrite from July 9, 2004
I am working on the way I get complete with time.
Searching for answers, being the one sitting up front with a hand up, an identity of ‘knowing-it-all.’ Out to please the teacher, till the epiphany that asking good questions leads to more fertile ground than any answers ever did.
What answer ever opened more than one door?
A good questions leads into the magic of the unknown.
People open up when asked, “Tell me about your hair, yourself, your life, your dreams.”
Who wants to listen to a know-it-all?
So this week’s homework was to write essays on the following questions:
How do you make a difference?
How do you get what I want?
How do you let go?
· Who do you trust? What part of you?
· Who is responsible?
What is your question?
I took on the exercise, I answered the question on one side of a sheet of paper, explaining my answers were not the RIGHT answers, only my answers, and to anyone who would listen to have fun finding their answers on the other side.
Someone wondered about YOU, the consitent reference to you , so I rewrote the questions. It was like the difference between ‘This and That’-exercise 19 ReSurfacing.
· How do I make a difference?
· How do I get what I want?
· How do I let go?
· Who do I trust? What part of me?
· Who is responsible?
· What is my question?
Now that felt much better.
I once wrote a poem that said ‘words that will set me free.’ But those bold charged words listed below send me to a prison of separation and limitations. I want them out of my interactive vocabulary. I want freedom from words that fix my attention. Here’s some examples of the culprits:
· Oh, its you.
· You should ‘stop anything and everything you are doing right this very moment, and register for the next course.
· I’m trying.
· I worry about the money.
· I hate it when I’m told what I ought to do.
· Whatever, I’ll start tomorrow.
Bold words that shackle creativity. Bold words that bind transparent beliefs.
(From ReSurfacing- “A belief is transparent when you are operating through the belief without noticing it. Transparent beliefs are seldom helpful and, in fact, can be fatally debilitating. Most are self-sabotaging, adopted in a moment when you were something less than rational.
“The first impression you have of a transparent belief is that it is unquestionably true. That just the way life is. That’s the way I am. Here’s the proof!” (Page 111)
These bold words are the handcuffs that limit. Words that creates suffering for our self and others. These bold words are source for blame, for without you, who can I blame?
I loop around an invisible enemy by worrying. (Alfred E. Newman channeled higher wisdom to teens and preteens in the 1950’s with WHAT ME WORRY? MAD magazine was an incredible well of another way to look at the art and culture of the times.)
I lock myself to nonsense when I try. Just try and stand up! You either stay seated, or stand up!
It’s a word that try’s my patience. Decide, use your will, focus your attention and just do it! Oh the wisdom being used by the advertising gods.
I exhibit my weakness when I think I should. Should can be a deliberate helper in deciding. But it is internal; operating only in my own biosphere-if I should, then just do it! But I should not tell you what you ought to do. That’s stealing, manipulating your source, nonsense, or just plain stupidity.
And the biggest lie, the greatest threat to creativity, to compassion, to humanity, to building an Enlightened Planetary Civilization (EPC) is tomorrow. It’s a disease, and along with its nowhere friend whatever, has become an epidemic of the current plague.
The disease of tomorrow. It may be a whiff of hope sung by a curly haired, pre pubescent that it “is only a day away.” But another more poignant view comes from a duo of pop rockers who guided us from the 1960’s with “still I continue to pretend, my life will never end…”
Not to be forgotten the sinister one, hate. Isn’t there another way of looking at “oh how I hate to get up in the morning.”
It is possible to have love without hate.
If you hate Lima beans, is it possible to transfer the hate to another person’s belief?
So what happens if you remove, discharge, eliminate, those bold charged
words?
Perhaps just asking the question, what if you hate to try and worry about what you should or ought to do tomorrow?
Whatever.
Namaste
Gary
I am working on the way I get complete with time.
Searching for answers, being the one sitting up front with a hand up, an identity of ‘knowing-it-all.’ Out to please the teacher, till the epiphany that asking good questions leads to more fertile ground than any answers ever did.
What answer ever opened more than one door?
A good questions leads into the magic of the unknown.
People open up when asked, “Tell me about your hair, yourself, your life, your dreams.”
Who wants to listen to a know-it-all?
So this week’s homework was to write essays on the following questions:
How do you make a difference?
How do you get what I want?
How do you let go?
· Who do you trust? What part of you?
· Who is responsible?
What is your question?
I took on the exercise, I answered the question on one side of a sheet of paper, explaining my answers were not the RIGHT answers, only my answers, and to anyone who would listen to have fun finding their answers on the other side.
Someone wondered about YOU, the consitent reference to you , so I rewrote the questions. It was like the difference between ‘This and That’-exercise 19 ReSurfacing.
· How do I make a difference?
· How do I get what I want?
· How do I let go?
· Who do I trust? What part of me?
· Who is responsible?
· What is my question?
Now that felt much better.
I once wrote a poem that said ‘words that will set me free.’ But those bold charged words listed below send me to a prison of separation and limitations. I want them out of my interactive vocabulary. I want freedom from words that fix my attention. Here’s some examples of the culprits:
· Oh, its you.
· You should ‘stop anything and everything you are doing right this very moment, and register for the next course.
· I’m trying.
· I worry about the money.
· I hate it when I’m told what I ought to do.
· Whatever, I’ll start tomorrow.
Bold words that shackle creativity. Bold words that bind transparent beliefs.
(From ReSurfacing- “A belief is transparent when you are operating through the belief without noticing it. Transparent beliefs are seldom helpful and, in fact, can be fatally debilitating. Most are self-sabotaging, adopted in a moment when you were something less than rational.
“The first impression you have of a transparent belief is that it is unquestionably true. That just the way life is. That’s the way I am. Here’s the proof!” (Page 111)
These bold words are the handcuffs that limit. Words that creates suffering for our self and others. These bold words are source for blame, for without you, who can I blame?
I loop around an invisible enemy by worrying. (Alfred E. Newman channeled higher wisdom to teens and preteens in the 1950’s with WHAT ME WORRY? MAD magazine was an incredible well of another way to look at the art and culture of the times.)
I lock myself to nonsense when I try. Just try and stand up! You either stay seated, or stand up!
It’s a word that try’s my patience. Decide, use your will, focus your attention and just do it! Oh the wisdom being used by the advertising gods.
I exhibit my weakness when I think I should. Should can be a deliberate helper in deciding. But it is internal; operating only in my own biosphere-if I should, then just do it! But I should not tell you what you ought to do. That’s stealing, manipulating your source, nonsense, or just plain stupidity.
And the biggest lie, the greatest threat to creativity, to compassion, to humanity, to building an Enlightened Planetary Civilization (EPC) is tomorrow. It’s a disease, and along with its nowhere friend whatever, has become an epidemic of the current plague.
The disease of tomorrow. It may be a whiff of hope sung by a curly haired, pre pubescent that it “is only a day away.” But another more poignant view comes from a duo of pop rockers who guided us from the 1960’s with “still I continue to pretend, my life will never end…”
Not to be forgotten the sinister one, hate. Isn’t there another way of looking at “oh how I hate to get up in the morning.”
It is possible to have love without hate.
If you hate Lima beans, is it possible to transfer the hate to another person’s belief?
So what happens if you remove, discharge, eliminate, those bold charged
words?
Perhaps just asking the question, what if you hate to try and worry about what you should or ought to do tomorrow?
Whatever.
Namaste
Gary
Sunday, July 6, 2008
July 6, 2008 A edited version from Avatar Fry Day July 2, 2004. Its amazing the synchroncity and repition from the past, as that often 'obsence digit' is healing again.
"Well the finger has relaxed. I have a bend that will grip a shovel, hammer or stick and allow that opposable thumb thing to work.
We had a "Wizards group that met Sundays. My praise of the buddi explodes when buddi’s become a group. We meet the last Sunday of each month. There are a dozen of us, and 6 or 7 always show up. We share what we are experiencing, what we are working on, how the work goes, where we’d like to go, tools and insights. Guidelines are personal honesty, and attentive listening. Its gossip free and feels like we are a team or family of humanity. There is magic in the nature of insights and support we offer each other. And its funny, consciousness by its contradictory nature is a humorous study." I miss that group.
"I shared my finger thing, the incongruity of being happy and giving the world the FINGER.
"We heard successes with Landmark Forum, of a psychic worthy of a daily visit, personal appreciation as a spiritual gigolo, some Jewels of Human Culture, compassion, persistence, the Book-Power vs. Force by David Hawkins, how to be ‘Chronically in Transition’, what it is like to have the ‘Habit of taking the Stress Route’. And from an angel who came into this life so responsible, she changed her own diaper before age two.
"We branched into other roads that led to an Enlightened Planetary Civilization. After all an EPC is still an EPC no matter what the road, and tools that clean ones home space can often be applied to clear ones psychic space. EPC starts in consciousness, and ultimately lives in consciousness.
"I (am still) worked on a belief the “Big Change only occurs with pain.” I was someone who resists change without pain. Hmm, could this have anything to do with an arthritic condition? I believed people stayed in relationship till it became too painful.
“Duh, I want to change, but must create pain to do it”, says Homer.
"Is there another belief I’d like to have?
" I need not create the belief in pain and change.....
"I now willingly accept big change.
"So now with my finger flexing, gripping, strumming, snapping, throwing, rolling, free to wave graciously and move from the torture of ambivalence into The Checking Back Inn.
I returned to my fitness club after a ( a month on the injured reserved). I love step classes. I’m an aerobics nut, a show off with fantasies of being found, a Rockette in Concord. I love those moments when the class is N’Synch, all us short, round, tall, skinny, and me being the one guy sweating to the oldies.
"This is a new moment to remember what it was like, and observe what it is now. I feel good that I can still do a full hour, but I am more careful toward full impact. My attention is different. I do the routines not to be seen, but to practice using and investing my attention. I can be more precise, more persistent in learning a routine, and more appreciative of all the different levels of students and trainers.
"I have recovered something lost, my dance, polished a skill, refining a way of being. Its not just aerobics, and a work out club, it’s a new me in an old place. Not out of place, but a place to make a new fit.
"I’m going to translate this feeling back into life I’ll make it new, my attitude, a newness in familiar setting. An appreciation of being an independent post Independence day. I’ll remember:
When we perceive that the only difference between any of us is belief, and that our beliefs can be created or discreated with ease, the right wrong game will wind down, and world peace will ensue.”
NAMSTE GARY
"Well the finger has relaxed. I have a bend that will grip a shovel, hammer or stick and allow that opposable thumb thing to work.
We had a "Wizards group that met Sundays. My praise of the buddi explodes when buddi’s become a group. We meet the last Sunday of each month. There are a dozen of us, and 6 or 7 always show up. We share what we are experiencing, what we are working on, how the work goes, where we’d like to go, tools and insights. Guidelines are personal honesty, and attentive listening. Its gossip free and feels like we are a team or family of humanity. There is magic in the nature of insights and support we offer each other. And its funny, consciousness by its contradictory nature is a humorous study." I miss that group.
"I shared my finger thing, the incongruity of being happy and giving the world the FINGER.
"We heard successes with Landmark Forum, of a psychic worthy of a daily visit, personal appreciation as a spiritual gigolo, some Jewels of Human Culture, compassion, persistence, the Book-Power vs. Force by David Hawkins, how to be ‘Chronically in Transition’, what it is like to have the ‘Habit of taking the Stress Route’. And from an angel who came into this life so responsible, she changed her own diaper before age two.
"We branched into other roads that led to an Enlightened Planetary Civilization. After all an EPC is still an EPC no matter what the road, and tools that clean ones home space can often be applied to clear ones psychic space. EPC starts in consciousness, and ultimately lives in consciousness.
"I (am still) worked on a belief the “Big Change only occurs with pain.” I was someone who resists change without pain. Hmm, could this have anything to do with an arthritic condition? I believed people stayed in relationship till it became too painful.
“Duh, I want to change, but must create pain to do it”, says Homer.
"Is there another belief I’d like to have?
" I need not create the belief in pain and change.....
"I now willingly accept big change.
"So now with my finger flexing, gripping, strumming, snapping, throwing, rolling, free to wave graciously and move from the torture of ambivalence into The Checking Back Inn.
I returned to my fitness club after a ( a month on the injured reserved). I love step classes. I’m an aerobics nut, a show off with fantasies of being found, a Rockette in Concord. I love those moments when the class is N’Synch, all us short, round, tall, skinny, and me being the one guy sweating to the oldies.
"This is a new moment to remember what it was like, and observe what it is now. I feel good that I can still do a full hour, but I am more careful toward full impact. My attention is different. I do the routines not to be seen, but to practice using and investing my attention. I can be more precise, more persistent in learning a routine, and more appreciative of all the different levels of students and trainers.
"I have recovered something lost, my dance, polished a skill, refining a way of being. Its not just aerobics, and a work out club, it’s a new me in an old place. Not out of place, but a place to make a new fit.
"I’m going to translate this feeling back into life I’ll make it new, my attitude, a newness in familiar setting. An appreciation of being an independent post Independence day. I’ll remember:
When we perceive that the only difference between any of us is belief, and that our beliefs can be created or discreated with ease, the right wrong game will wind down, and world peace will ensue.”
NAMSTE GARY
Buddi meetings
This Blog is a re-issue and edited from July 2, 2004-the syncronicity and repitition of some issues amazes me, as the same finger, the at times obscene digit was red, heated, angry and swollen and ...Well the finger has relaxed. I have a bend that will grip a shovel, hammer or stick and allow that opposable thumb thing to work.
We no longer have a ... Wizards group that mets Sunday. My praise of the buddi explodes when buddi’s become a group. We meet the last Sunday of each month. There are a dozen of us, and 6 or 7 always show up. We share what we are experiencing, what we are working on, how the work goes, where we’d like to go, tools and insights. Guidelines are personal honesty, and attentive listening. Its gossip free and feels like we are a team or family of humanity. There is magic in the nature of insights and support we offer each other. And its funny, consciousness by its contradictory nature is a humorous study.
I shared my finger thing, the incongruity of being happy and giving the world the FINGER.
We heard successes with Landmark Forum, of a psychic worthy of a daily visit, personal appreciation as a spiritual gigolo, some Jewels of Human Culture, compassion, persistence, the Book-Power vs. Force by David Hawkins, how to be ‘Chronically in Transition’, what it is like to have the ‘Habit of taking the Stress Route’. And from an angel who came into this life so responsible, she changed her own diaper before age two.
We branched into other roads that led to an Enlightened Planetary Civilization. After all an EPC is still an EPC no matter what the road, and tools that clean ones home space can often be applied to clear ones psychic space. EPC starts in consciousness, and ultimately lives in consciousness.
I worked on a belief the “Big Change only occurs with pain.” I was someone who resists change without pain. Hmm, could this have anything to do with an arthritic condition? I believed people stayed in relationship till it became too painful. Feels like what I am doing at the salon.
“Duh, I want to change, but must create pain to do it”, says Homer.
Is there another belief I’d like to have?
I now willingly accept big change.
So now with my finger flexing, gripping, strumming, snapping, throwing, rolling, free to wave graciously and move from the torture of ambivalence into The Checking Back Inn.
Tomorrow I will love being back in step classes. I’m an aerobics nut, a show off with fantasies of being discovered, a Rockette in Concord. I love those moments when the class is N’Synch, all us short, round, tall, skinny, and me being the one guy sweating to the oldies.
Being away from the club for a month is a new moment to remember what it was like, and observe what it is now. I feel good that I can still do a full hour class, but I am more careful toward full impact and those dsquats.. My attention is different. I do the routines not to be seen, but to practice using and investing my attention. I can be more precise, more persistent in learning a routine, and more appreciative of all the different levels of students and trainers.
I have recovered something lost, my dance, polished a skill, refining a way of being. Its not just aerobics, and a work out club, it’s a new me in an old place. Not out of place, but a place to make a new fit.
I’m going to translate this feeling back into all of life. I’ll make it new, my attitude, a newness in familiar setting. An appreciation of being an independent businessperson after declaring
Independence day. I’ll remember:
When we perceive that the only difference between any of us is belief, and that our beliefs can be created or discreated with ease, the right wrong game will wind down, and world peace will ensue.”
Namaste,
Gary
We no longer have a ... Wizards group that mets Sunday. My praise of the buddi explodes when buddi’s become a group. We meet the last Sunday of each month. There are a dozen of us, and 6 or 7 always show up. We share what we are experiencing, what we are working on, how the work goes, where we’d like to go, tools and insights. Guidelines are personal honesty, and attentive listening. Its gossip free and feels like we are a team or family of humanity. There is magic in the nature of insights and support we offer each other. And its funny, consciousness by its contradictory nature is a humorous study.
I shared my finger thing, the incongruity of being happy and giving the world the FINGER.
We heard successes with Landmark Forum, of a psychic worthy of a daily visit, personal appreciation as a spiritual gigolo, some Jewels of Human Culture, compassion, persistence, the Book-Power vs. Force by David Hawkins, how to be ‘Chronically in Transition’, what it is like to have the ‘Habit of taking the Stress Route’. And from an angel who came into this life so responsible, she changed her own diaper before age two.
We branched into other roads that led to an Enlightened Planetary Civilization. After all an EPC is still an EPC no matter what the road, and tools that clean ones home space can often be applied to clear ones psychic space. EPC starts in consciousness, and ultimately lives in consciousness.
I worked on a belief the “Big Change only occurs with pain.” I was someone who resists change without pain. Hmm, could this have anything to do with an arthritic condition? I believed people stayed in relationship till it became too painful. Feels like what I am doing at the salon.
“Duh, I want to change, but must create pain to do it”, says Homer.
Is there another belief I’d like to have?
I now willingly accept big change.
So now with my finger flexing, gripping, strumming, snapping, throwing, rolling, free to wave graciously and move from the torture of ambivalence into The Checking Back Inn.
Tomorrow I will love being back in step classes. I’m an aerobics nut, a show off with fantasies of being discovered, a Rockette in Concord. I love those moments when the class is N’Synch, all us short, round, tall, skinny, and me being the one guy sweating to the oldies.
Being away from the club for a month is a new moment to remember what it was like, and observe what it is now. I feel good that I can still do a full hour class, but I am more careful toward full impact and those dsquats.. My attention is different. I do the routines not to be seen, but to practice using and investing my attention. I can be more precise, more persistent in learning a routine, and more appreciative of all the different levels of students and trainers.
I have recovered something lost, my dance, polished a skill, refining a way of being. Its not just aerobics, and a work out club, it’s a new me in an old place. Not out of place, but a place to make a new fit.
I’m going to translate this feeling back into all of life. I’ll make it new, my attitude, a newness in familiar setting. An appreciation of being an independent businessperson after declaring
Independence day. I’ll remember:
When we perceive that the only difference between any of us is belief, and that our beliefs can be created or discreated with ease, the right wrong game will wind down, and world peace will ensue.”
Namaste,
Gary
Wednesday, July 2, 2008
Avatar Fry Day
7/2/08 Declare your independence.
To avoid my procrastination, obligations, duties, goals, aims, primaries, shoulds, oughts, have to’s, want to’s, didn’t do, will do, can’t do(what can’t I do) and give myself a chance to free up my attention and contact undefined awareness and once again connect with you.
June came in with pain and injury.
Go back to doing your exercise and your Tai Chi.” ‘if only someone would have called me to remind me of the importance of DAILY stretching and Tai Chi. So perhaps others would also like such a service-
Hermes Calling-a phone service to keep one on purpose, or at least to remind as many of my ‘I’s’ as possible what I deem important.
“How’s those exercises going?
Doing all the Tai Chi you need?
How’s your diet?
Did you get back on purpose with AVATAR FRIDAY?
Did you call your sister?
Any secondaries come up?
Any new primaries?
Did you write any poems?
How’s the Checking Inn file?
Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, professionally, re-CREATIONALLY anything you want to add, subtract or enhance?”
A five minute call, charged on your credit card with parameters to keep it from therapy or coaching, just REMEMBERING TO REMEMBER TO REMEMBER. Reminder calls for $5 fee.
Fryday is the Fourth of July, even in England. If I am independent I am Source. I choose, I decide, I do it-the inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
‘From a very special moment
From a very special place.’
“Perhaps, you like I, having once embarked upon an adventure of self-exploration, now find yourself afloat on an enormous ocean of emotion clinging to nothing more than a tiny craft of self concern (importance) and can now understand that an expanding awareness floats upon the incredulous brainwaves toward the shores of a beautiful place, where there are many others who share the principal of higher self and wish to flourish in the ambition to live love and oneness.
“So we have come together once again…to remember our independence, our sorcery, and use this day and all dazes as viewpoints to honor ourselves and all of Precious Humanity in coming a long, long way to get there together.
All the Bodhisattva’s awaken again as fireworks ignite the joy within to see and feel the awakening of an Enlightened Planetary Civilization.
NomstayGARY C SMITH
To avoid my procrastination, obligations, duties, goals, aims, primaries, shoulds, oughts, have to’s, want to’s, didn’t do, will do, can’t do(what can’t I do) and give myself a chance to free up my attention and contact undefined awareness and once again connect with you.
June came in with pain and injury.
Go back to doing your exercise and your Tai Chi.” ‘if only someone would have called me to remind me of the importance of DAILY stretching and Tai Chi. So perhaps others would also like such a service-
Hermes Calling-a phone service to keep one on purpose, or at least to remind as many of my ‘I’s’ as possible what I deem important.
“How’s those exercises going?
Doing all the Tai Chi you need?
How’s your diet?
Did you get back on purpose with AVATAR FRIDAY?
Did you call your sister?
Any secondaries come up?
Any new primaries?
Did you write any poems?
How’s the Checking Inn file?
Mentally, physically, emotionally, spiritually, professionally, re-CREATIONALLY anything you want to add, subtract or enhance?”
A five minute call, charged on your credit card with parameters to keep it from therapy or coaching, just REMEMBERING TO REMEMBER TO REMEMBER. Reminder calls for $5 fee.
Fryday is the Fourth of July, even in England. If I am independent I am Source. I choose, I decide, I do it-the inalienable right to life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.
‘From a very special moment
From a very special place.’
“Perhaps, you like I, having once embarked upon an adventure of self-exploration, now find yourself afloat on an enormous ocean of emotion clinging to nothing more than a tiny craft of self concern (importance) and can now understand that an expanding awareness floats upon the incredulous brainwaves toward the shores of a beautiful place, where there are many others who share the principal of higher self and wish to flourish in the ambition to live love and oneness.
“So we have come together once again…to remember our independence, our sorcery, and use this day and all dazes as viewpoints to honor ourselves and all of Precious Humanity in coming a long, long way to get there together.
All the Bodhisattva’s awaken again as fireworks ignite the joy within to see and feel the awakening of an Enlightened Planetary Civilization.
NomstayGARY C SMITH
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