This made me think. I confess I am unsure if I entirely agree; but it has made me think: which is perhaps more valuable.
When I first read the quote above, I had no clue what it meant. I couldn’t form the words into any semblance of understanding. Then it hit me and I understood with every fiber of my being. Like a bodyguard protecting a client, we hide our sadness behind anger. Anger is our shield to protect us from exposing our emotions to the world.
So much of the world lives on the edge between sadness and happiness. The cars and houses and huge TV’s don’t bring the happiness expected. Instead, sadness settles deep inside, a loss we might not even understand. Because we won’t – or aren’t able – to admit the sadness at the center of our supposed ‘search for happiness,’ we pretend the sadness isn’t there. We get angry at the people, events, politicians, (add your own favorites) we ‘think’ are keeping us from the happiness we deserve.
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Created by the Guardian newspaper, to mark the 400th anniversary of Shakespeare’s death. One of a series.
To spend a year reading the entire works of Shakespeare is an extraordinary feat, of endurance if nothing else. And yet, this person did; and then wrote about what he learnt, how he felt, and how the task affected him.
A great blog, and besides we share the same favourite Shakespeare quote…
Not long after I finished the complete works, I popped into a bookstore. I knew exactly where to find him. He has his own section. He always has his own section.
I strutted straight over. Shakespeare.
Top to bottom, shelf by shelf, I eyed all the Macbeth’s and Much Ado About Nothing’s, all the Romeo and Juliet’s and Richard III’s. I puffed out my chest. I cocked back my chin.
Think your so tough? I said to myself. I read you. I pointed to Hamlet. I read you. I pointed to The Tempest. I read you and you and you. I even read you, singling out a copy of Cymbeline I was surprised, and impressed, to see stocked. Whatcha got on me?
Wait. I stepped off.
What do you got on me, Shakespeare?
What did I…
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My friend’s walk to Santiago, one step at a time.
Walking To Santiago
We start a journey without ever knowing
Where the road will end,
Or what we there may find;
The land rolls out and shapes with every step
A novel contour
In the heart and mind.
I am a shell, but know not what I hold,
Until the winding path reveals
Myself unto myself;
Uncovering the fault lines of the man
I think I am, or hope to be:
In the shadow lies the wealth.
We walk, and hope, and persevere;
We ache and sweat,
And shed familiar skin;
And all we know encompassed by
One foot in front, and then the other,
Safely gathered in
The swinging incense, soaring voice
Crown the heavy miles
With sacred sound and smell;
The journey has unfolded of itself
A gift to me,
And all again is well..
When one walks with intent, towards a goal, then the unexpected can happen…
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I’ve looked at blank pages and wondered where to start; but this looks at it from the opposite perspective. As if a thought had come to the poet, and had been lost before they had time to write it down.
Go placidly amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence.
As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.[…]
This is the first line from Desiderata, written in 1927 by American writer Max Ehrmann.
A lovely poem, by Francis Thompson (1859-1907) with ‘hunchèd camels’ and a ‘star-gathering’ sun. Here it is analysed in a thoughtful and informative piece from the Guardian newspaper.