Tag Archives: success

If all my days were whiled

If all my days were whiled in hours of leisure,
their content by mere whim alone fulfilled,
perhaps I would not sense so keen a pleasure
as I do when a moment seems to still

into a whisper the world’s rush and roar,
and stretch a second’s span beyond its measure.
It’s likely I would want of time much more,
if all of it were made of these small treasures.

Would I want such a horde of precious minutes?
How would they wear if stored up in some vault?
It seems to me their worth would soon diminish
and leave behind regret, sorrow and fault.

Much better finding them just now and then;
like manna you have only now to spend.

12 MAY 2006

Share This:

Almost Famous

To be respected by your family,
those you like and know,
is often not enough acclaim
to satisfy; and so
we seek to become famous
in this lifetime or the next,
a bigger fish than all the rest
and so command respect.

As the sphere of your influence
expands, you gain some perks:
you get your way more often
and can boss around more jerks,
perhaps a bigger house or car,
more money in the bank,
a longer list of so-called friends
who think you owe them thanks.

From strangers, you gain envy;
from criminals, their lust;
and at some point, the tiny circle
that you know and trust
continues to diminish, until
they grow tired and leave,
exhausted from competing
with the users you believe
would be there if your fortunes
were one morning found reversed,
who only stroke your ego
as a way to line their purse.

I wanted to be famous once.
I thought it would be great
to live as if my word was law,
to die and lay in state
while mourners passed through teary-eyed,
my name upon their lips:
the mind, the face that changed the world,
that launched a thousand ships.

But now, I wonder at the point
of seeking such applause;
and seek instead a smaller crowd
of friends and kin, because
the bottom line is this, you know:
you get what we call fame
when people you don’t know or like
pretend to know your name.

30 APR 2006

Share This:

Midlife Chrysler

Some dreams are meant to fade away with age;
starting another chapter means you’ve got to turn the page.
What seemed the promised land back in your youth
becomes a lawn to mow, and it’s the truth:
it’s hard when you start watching from the side
when you remember how it felt to ride

It don’t get good mileage, doesn’t have too much appeal
The tires are going bald, there’s a loose screw behind the wheel
When we’re on the street I’m sure that people stop and stare
Don’t where we’re headed, but I hope that we get there
We keep getting old, but not much wiser
Welcome to my Midlife Chrysler.

Sometimes its hard to try and act your age;
just ’cause you’re getting old, doesn’t mean that you can’t rage.
But battles won or lost don’t make a war,
when you’ve got more to lose now than before:
Yet it’s hard to let that feeling slip away
when the balance of your life is yesterday.

It don’t get good mileage, doesn’t have too much appeal
The tires are going bald, there’s a loose screw behind the wheel
When we’re on the street I’m sure that people stop and stare
Don’t where we’re headed, but I hope that we get there
We keep getting old, but not much wiser
Back in the shop … my Midlife Chrysler.

You may call it vintage, but it’s not the same as wine;
Past a certain point, you end up tinkering all the time.
Then the parts start wearing out that are hard to replace
and all that mileage shows up on your face.

You can’t put a wild beast in a cage;
and there behind the curtain, you’re still standing on the stage.
The pace is slower, but the view is grand;
we can watch the young fools, hand in hand.
This ol’ ride’s still rolling, and there’s room enough for two
No telling what this crazy heap can do…

It don’t get good mileage, doesn’t have too much appeal
The tires are going bald, there’s a loose screw behind the wheel
When we’re on the street I’m sure that people stop and stare
Don’t where we’re headed, but I hope that we get there
Sure we’re getting old, but somewhat wiser …
Hop on in my Midlife Chrysler.

28 APR 2006

Share This:

What’s My Name?

What’s my name?
You may have seen it in the papers
Saw the lines ’round my face
and you read about my latest capers

What’s my name?
It’s on everybody’s lips
Who’s hip, who’s tripped, who’s slipped,
who’s got a case of the vapors

What’s my name?
It’s on the cover of a magazine
And the headlines read “Is He Live or Dead?”
“Is it him you think you might have seen?”

What’s my name?
Maybe you just can’t remember
Because I’m not someone toting a gun,
or dating Miss September

It doesn’t matter if you can’t recall
Sometimes it’s safer in a faceless crowd
When I think of all the stupid things we believe
We may be learning, but we’re not too proud
To put it off until tomorrow.

What’s my name?
You may have read it in the Bible
A fine line on the sign of the times
between obscenity and revival

What’s my name?
It’s on a billboard ’round the corner
A poster child for the wild and wooly side
against which parents try to warn you

What’s my name?
Maybe I can’t even tell you
Except as part of a slogan for some new product
I’m trying to sell you

It doesn’t matter if you can’t decide
Sometimes it’s better if you just don’t know
When I think of all the stupid things we believe
We might be better off digging a hole…
I guess I’ll start that tomorrow.

Memphis, Summer 1992

Share This:

This Song

You won’t ever hear this song
It won’t be finished ’til you’re long gone
and you never liked country radio.
It doesn’t matter, then, I guess,
if what I say is more or less
an echo of unspoken “told you so’s.”

You told me that I’d never make it
Until I learned how not to fake it
and tried to be much kinder than I am.
Looks you’re right, I’m at rock bottom;
I’d call on friends, but I ain’t got ’em,
and if I did they wouldn’t give a damn.

You were right, and I was wrong
I was weak, and you were strong;
I didn’t trust my heart, just my fool head.
I was wrong, and you were right,
and so I’m here alone tonight
I don’t have you; I’ve got this song instead.

You won’t ever hear this song
so you’ll not get to sing along
and find you have the words all down by heart.
It doesn’t matter much, I guess,
that doesn’t make me miss you less,
or shorten this sad time we’ve been apart.

You told me that I’d lost all feeling
and tried too hard to stop revealing
the bitter man behind the plastic smile.
Looks like you’re right, I’m down to nothing;
might act real tough, but I’d be bluffing,
just trying not to break down all the while.

You were right, and I was wrong
I was weak, and you were strong;
I didn’t trust my heart, just my fool head.
I was wrong, and you were right,
and so I’m here alone tonight
I don’t have you; I’ve got this song instead.

It’s not likely you’ll hear this song
It won’t be finished ’til you’re gone
and you won’t buy my records anymore.
It doesn’t matter, then, I guess,
but still I’ll say it, more or less,
because that chance is all I’m living for.

15 JAN 2006

Share This:

After the Flood

The things by which we measure our success:
accumulations from long years of toil,
the pride of equity in an address,
and our precious illusions. How soon spoiled,

in just a moment’s passing, are these goods,
respectability’s crush torn away.
All the great faiths instruct us that we should
in times like these find hope and not dismay,

unloosed from the material that binds
our spirits to mere temporality;
and praise the soul that in such trial finds
a hidden good to salve its sanity.

It’s only stuff, I know; and furthermore,
in recent months I’ve despaired that its weight
has been a millstone lain beneath the floor
that’s kept our fate in chains. But as of late,

I wonder: is it better the veneer
on these rough boards of ours has been removed,
and now, left plain and simple, our path clear,
are we left with a simpler truth to prove?

I am no refugee, except to those
who measure by possessions a man’s worth,
and would put beggar’s hearts in rich men’s clothes
expecting gold from toxic, poisoned earth.

I have all that I need: the rest is dross
that over time accumulates again;
What good is sorrow spent on such a loss,
or worry over endless might-have-beens?

21 SEP 2005

Share This:

More on Goal Setting

Some further thoughts on goal setting as it relates to self-improvement:

Most of the self-help programs out there (at least, the ones that charge a substantial fee and consist of more than a single volume book) assume that the reason you are seeking out their assistance is that you feel unproductive. Of course, for most that unproductivity is measured in terms of accumulated monetary wealth, dissatisfaction with your career or job path (of course, the corollary assumption is that any job that does not lead to the accumulation of personal monetary wealth cannot be satisfactory), a lack of friendships (and therefore a lack of networking by which to accumulate monetary wealth), or a separation from “normal” behavoir that is proven to result in, with the right sort of guidances, the accumulation of monetary wealth.

Self-help programs, in short, seem to focus on ONE thing: getting what you want. Of course, the more complex the program, the more difficult it is to actually define what you want — as a result, the failure to achieve it can always be blamed on your inability to accurate define it.

While the focus is on that one thing, the method for achieving that focus always contains another key element: TIME. Not only are you focusing on getting what you want, but you’re focusing on getting it NOW. Centerpointe Technologies, for example, uses as their selling point that you are able to achieving a deeper state of meditation than Buddhist monks. Bear in mind that most Buddhist monks who achieve the level of concentration and mental states we’re talking about here have been meditating for 20 or 30 years, and in fact, that state of meditation is the purpose for their lives, in a sense. The key to meditation as a spiritual pastime is not just the state of “Nirvana” that you reach, however. The key to meditation is what you learn about yourself by spending 20 to 30 years thinking about it. It is this missing link, the span of time required to actually “build character” so to speak, that is missing from accelerated learning, or quick-time self-improvement programs. The fact of the matter is that until you’ve spent 20 to 30 years thinking about what your goals are, why you picked those goals, and why you require goals at all, the goals that you set to achieve in a super-accelerated meditation program are NOT going to be all that useful — because without that time under your belt, you’re not going to really have an appreciation for those goals if and when you achieve them.

Live a happy and productive life according to a standard you have inherited and probably only somewhat understand. That’s the goal of many self-help programs. What they don’t tell you is that by circumventing the time-span process, by short-cutting the mountain path, you’re bypassing the difficult and necessary process of figuring out your own standards. Of not setting goals, or achieving victories on someone else’s playing field, but in fact taking the time to change the game itself.

Using a time-honored motivational mantra, like, “See the good in everything,” doesn’t work unless you first realize that there is bad in everything too — that there is a necessary balance between black and white, up and down, right and left, on and off. Hyping your circuits so you are ON all the time is not the answer. Using 15% of your brain, rather than 10%, is only useful if you think about things that people using only 10% don’t think of. And learning what that five percent is, requires more than just accelerating your own agenda. It requires looking, as Kurt Godel might have said, at the agenda that is not contained in the set of all agendas. At the goals that not only represent your personal ambitions, selfish desires and private fantasies, but that force you to transcend the personal, selfish and private to understand that whatever CAN happen, DOES happen.

So I wonder. Doesn’t having the ability to meditate more effectively than a Buddhist monk imply that I should be acting as if I were a monk-plus? Doesn’t gaining more intelligence, insight, serenity, personal power, etc. imply that there must be more than myself that must benefit from this increase?

What about the maxim “From whom much is given, much is expected?” I have NEVER seen a self-help or personal improvement program that said by increasing your self-value, you increase your obligation to the universe.

Share This: