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Wednesday, April 27, 2016

Have You Ever Wanted A New Beginning?


I've always been impressed by the symbolism associated with wakefulness—that is to say, the power of being awake.

Wakefulness is about so much more than just getting up in the morning—it's about rising up, being attentive, alert, and alive. The process of waking up every morning is, in and of itself, a symbol for being born again. To wake up is to have a new beginning.

In my life, I have been fortunate to associate with the Anasazi Foundation. Anasazi is a pioneer wilderness therapy program that is rooted in Native American traditions. The basic idea behind Anasazi Foundation is to take participants into the Arizona wilderness for 50+ days, give them a space that is free from the distractions and noise of the world—and in so doing, help them find a new beginning.

The other day, I spoke with Ezekiel Sanchez (also known as Good Buffalo Eagle). Ezekiel is a Native American and a co-Founder of the Anasazi program. He told me that one of the primary messages of Anasazi is to give others a new beginning. His son, Lehi Sanchez, recently published a video of Ezekiel which I think is incredible. I've included it below and I hope that it motivates you to wake up tomorrow and have a new beginning.

Thursday, April 21, 2016

Are You Following a Calf-Path of the Mind?


This thought-provoking poem by Sam Foss is a bit on the long-side, but well worth the read! It tells the story of a calf who made a path that others would follow. The author ends the poem with a profound moral lesson on "calf-paths of the mind."

Calf-Path
by Sam Foss

I.
     
One day through the primeval wood
A calf walked home as good calves should;
  
But made a trail all bent askew,
A crooked trail as all calves do.

Since then three hundred years have fled,
And I infer the calf is dead.


II.

But still he left behind his trail,
And thereby hangs my moral tale.

The trail was taken up next day,
By a lone dog that passed that way;

And then a wise bell-wether sheep
Pursued the trail o’er vale and steep,

And drew the flock behind him, too,
As good bell-wethers always do.

And from that day, o’er hill and glade.
Through those old woods a path was made.
     
     
III.
     
And many men wound in and out,
And dodged, and turned, and bent about,

And uttered words of righteous wrath,
Because ‘twas such a crooked path;

But still they followed—do not laugh—
The first migrations of that calf,

And through this winding wood-way stalked
Because he wobbled when he walked.
     
     
IV.
     
This forest path became a lane,
that bent and turned and turned again;

This crooked lane became a road,
Where many a poor horse with his load

Toiled on beneath the burning sun,
And traveled some three miles in one.

And thus a century and a half
They trod the footsteps of that calf.
     
     
V.
     
The years passed on in swiftness fleet,
The road became a village street;

And this, before men were aware,
A city’s crowded thoroughfare.

And soon the central street was this
Of a renowned metropolis;

And men two centuries and a half,
Trod in the footsteps of that calf.
     
     
VI.
   
Each day a hundred thousand rout
Followed the zigzag calf about

And o’er his crooked journey went
The traffic of a continent.

A Hundred thousand men were led,
By one calf near three centuries dead.

They followed still his crooked way,
And lost one hundred years a day;

For thus such reverence is lent,
To well established precedent.
     

VII.

A moral lesson this might teach
Were I ordained and called to preach;

For men are prone to go it blind
Along the calf-paths of the mind,

And work away from sun to sun,
To do what other men have done.

They follow in the beaten track,
And out and in, and forth and back,

And still their devious course pursue,
To keep the path that others do.

They keep the path a sacred groove,
Along which all their lives they move.

But how the wise old wood gods laugh,
Who saw the first primeval calf.

Ah, many things this tale might teach—
But I am not ordained to preach.

Saturday, April 16, 2016

BE STRONG! | Poetry to Give You Strength



Here is a marvelous little poem that will inspire you to press on! The struggle you are fighting today is God's gift to you. It's like the legend of the man, cursed by the gods to push a large boulder over a mountain. Going uphill was arduous, painful work, but as soon as the man reached the summit, he realized that the task given to him by the gods had actually blessed him with strength.

So press on and be strong!

BE STRONG!
by Maltbie D. Babcock

Be strong!
We are not here to play, to dream, to drift,
We have hard work to do, and loads to lift.
Shun not the struggle, face it, 'tis God's gift.

Be strong!
Say not the days are evil—who's to blame!
And fold the hands and acquiesce—O shame!
Stand up, speak out, and bravely, in God's name.

Be strong!
It matters not how deep entrenched the wrong,
How hard the battle goes, the day, how long;
Faint not, fight on! To-morrow comes the song!

Thursday, April 7, 2016

Can One Person Make a Difference?

Can One Person Make a Difference?

I love these lyrics from the musical Dear World. I'm about to launch several new projects and I've been looking for some encouragement. I'm particularly inspired by the line "one person can hold a touch and light up the sky again."

"One Person" 
From the musical Dear World

One person can beat a drum
And make enough noise for ten;
One person can blow a horn
And that little boom
And that little blare
Can make a hundreds others care.
And one person can hold a torch
And light up the sky again.
And one little voice that's squeaking a song,
Can make a million voices strong.
If one person can beat a drum,
And one person can blow a horn,
If one person can hold a torch,
Then one person can change the world!
There may be an army of them
And only a handful of us,
And how can a poor little band fight a mighty regime.
There may be a legion of them,
And only a parcel of us,
But it isn't the size of the first,
It's the size of a dream!