"New scientific ideas never spring from a communal body, however organized, but
rather from the head of an individually inspired researcher who struggles with his
problems in lonely thought and unites all his thought on one single point which is
his whole world for the moment."
~Max Planck
Tuesday, July 26, 2011
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
"You do not belong to you. You belong to the universe. The significance of you will forever remain obscure to you, but you may assume that you are fulfilling your significance if you apply yourself to converting all your experience to highest advantage of others. You and all men are here for the sake of other men."
~R. Buckminster Fuller
~R. Buckminster Fuller
Excerpt from Sand and Foam by Kahlil Gibran
They say to me in their awakening, "You and the world you live in are but a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea."
And in my dream I say to them, "I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore."
Only once have I been made mute. It was when a man asked me, "Who are you?"
The first thought of God was an angel.
The first word of God was a man.
We were fluttering, wandering, longing creatures a thousand thousand years before the sea and the wind in the forest gave us words.
Now how can we express the ancient of days in us with only the sounds of our yesterdays?
The Sphinx spoke only once, and the Sphinx said, "A grain of sand is a desert, and a desert is a grain of sand; and now let us all be silent again."
I heard the Sphinx, but I did not understand.
Long did I lie in the dust of Egypt, silent and unaware of the seasons.
Then the sun gave me birth, and I rose and walked upon the banks of the Nile,
Singing with the days and dreaming with the nights.
And now the sun threads upon me with a thousand feet that I may lie again in the dust of Egypt.
But behold a marvel and a riddle!
The very sun that gathered me cannot scatter me.
Still erect am I, and sure of foot do I walk upon the banks of the Nile.
Remembrance is a form of meeting.
Forgetfulness is a form of freedom.
We measure time according to the movement of countless suns; and they measure time by little machines in their little pockets.
Now tell me, how could we ever meet at the same place and the same time?
Space is not space between the earth and the sun to one who looks down from the windows of the Milky Way.
Humanity is a river of light running from the ex-eternity to eternity.
Do not the spirits who dwell in the ether envy man his pain?
On my way to the Holy City I met another pilgrim and I asked him, "Is this indeed the way to the Holy City?"
And he said, "Follow me, and you will reach the Holy City in a day and a night."
And I followed him. And we walked many days and many nights, yet we did not reach the Holy City.
And what was to my surprise he became angry with me because he had misled me.
Make me, oh God, the prey of the lion, ere You make the rabbit my prey.
One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night.
My house says to me, "Do not leave me, for here dwells your past."
And the road says to me, "Come and follow me, for I am your future."
And I say to both my house and the road, "I have no past, nor have I a future. If I stay here, there is a going in my staying; and if I go there is a staying in my going. Only love and death will change all things."
How can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth? Strange, the desire for certain pleasures is a part of my pain.
Seven times have I despised my soul:
The first time when I saw her being meek that she might attain height.
The second time when I saw her limping before the crippled.
The third time when she was given to choose between the hard and the easy, and she chose the easy.
The fourth time when she committed a wrong, and comforted herself that others also commit wrong.
The fifth time when she forbore for weakness, and attributed her patience to strength.
The sixth time when she despised the ugliness of a face, and knew not that it was one of her own masks.
And the seventh time when she sang a song of praise, and deemed it a virtue.
I AM IGNORANT of absolute truth. But I am humble before my ignorance and therein lies my honor and my reward.
There is a space between man's imagination and man's attainment that may only be traversed by his longing.
Paradise is there, behind that door, in the next room; but I have lost the key.
Perhaps I have only mislaid it.
You are blind and I am deaf and dumb, so let us touch hands and understand.
The significance of man is not in what he attains, but rather in what he longs to attain.
Some of us are like ink and some like paper.
And if it were not for the blackness of some of us, some of us would be dumb;
And if it were not for the whiteness of some of us, some of us would be blind.
Give me an ear and I will give you a voice.
Our mind is a sponge; our heart is a stream.
Is it not strange that most of us choose sucking rather than running?
When you long for blessings that you may not name, and when you grieve knowing not the cause, then indeed you are growing with all things that grow, and rising toward your greater self.
When one is drunk with a vision, he deems his faint expression of it the very wine.
You drink wine that you may be intoxicated; and I drink that it may sober me from that other wine.
When my cup is empty I resign myself to its emptiness; but when it is half full I resent its half-fulness.
The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you.
Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather to what he does not say.
Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you.
A sense of humour is a sense of proportion.
My loneliness was born when men praised my talkative faults and blamed my silent virtues.
When Life does not find a singer to sing her heart she produces a philosopher to speak her mind.
A truth is to be known always, to be uttered sometimes.
The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative.
The voice of life in me cannot reach the ear of life in you; but let us talk that we may not feel lonely.
When two women talk they say nothing; when one woman speaks she reveals all of life.
They say to me in their awakening, "You and the world you live in are but a grain of sand upon the infinite shore of an infinite sea."
And in my dream I say to them, "I am the infinite sea, and all worlds are but grains of sand upon my shore."
Only once have I been made mute. It was when a man asked me, "Who are you?"
The first thought of God was an angel.
The first word of God was a man.
We were fluttering, wandering, longing creatures a thousand thousand years before the sea and the wind in the forest gave us words.
Now how can we express the ancient of days in us with only the sounds of our yesterdays?
The Sphinx spoke only once, and the Sphinx said, "A grain of sand is a desert, and a desert is a grain of sand; and now let us all be silent again."
I heard the Sphinx, but I did not understand.
Long did I lie in the dust of Egypt, silent and unaware of the seasons.
Then the sun gave me birth, and I rose and walked upon the banks of the Nile,
Singing with the days and dreaming with the nights.
And now the sun threads upon me with a thousand feet that I may lie again in the dust of Egypt.
But behold a marvel and a riddle!
The very sun that gathered me cannot scatter me.
Still erect am I, and sure of foot do I walk upon the banks of the Nile.
Remembrance is a form of meeting.
Forgetfulness is a form of freedom.
We measure time according to the movement of countless suns; and they measure time by little machines in their little pockets.
Now tell me, how could we ever meet at the same place and the same time?
Space is not space between the earth and the sun to one who looks down from the windows of the Milky Way.
Humanity is a river of light running from the ex-eternity to eternity.
Do not the spirits who dwell in the ether envy man his pain?
On my way to the Holy City I met another pilgrim and I asked him, "Is this indeed the way to the Holy City?"
And he said, "Follow me, and you will reach the Holy City in a day and a night."
And I followed him. And we walked many days and many nights, yet we did not reach the Holy City.
And what was to my surprise he became angry with me because he had misled me.
Make me, oh God, the prey of the lion, ere You make the rabbit my prey.
One may not reach the dawn save by the path of the night.
My house says to me, "Do not leave me, for here dwells your past."
And the road says to me, "Come and follow me, for I am your future."
And I say to both my house and the road, "I have no past, nor have I a future. If I stay here, there is a going in my staying; and if I go there is a staying in my going. Only love and death will change all things."
How can I lose faith in the justice of life, when the dreams of those who sleep upon feathers are not more beautiful than the dreams of those who sleep upon the earth? Strange, the desire for certain pleasures is a part of my pain.
Seven times have I despised my soul:
The first time when I saw her being meek that she might attain height.
The second time when I saw her limping before the crippled.
The third time when she was given to choose between the hard and the easy, and she chose the easy.
The fourth time when she committed a wrong, and comforted herself that others also commit wrong.
The fifth time when she forbore for weakness, and attributed her patience to strength.
The sixth time when she despised the ugliness of a face, and knew not that it was one of her own masks.
And the seventh time when she sang a song of praise, and deemed it a virtue.
I AM IGNORANT of absolute truth. But I am humble before my ignorance and therein lies my honor and my reward.
There is a space between man's imagination and man's attainment that may only be traversed by his longing.
Paradise is there, behind that door, in the next room; but I have lost the key.
Perhaps I have only mislaid it.
You are blind and I am deaf and dumb, so let us touch hands and understand.
The significance of man is not in what he attains, but rather in what he longs to attain.
Some of us are like ink and some like paper.
And if it were not for the blackness of some of us, some of us would be dumb;
And if it were not for the whiteness of some of us, some of us would be blind.
Give me an ear and I will give you a voice.
Our mind is a sponge; our heart is a stream.
Is it not strange that most of us choose sucking rather than running?
When you long for blessings that you may not name, and when you grieve knowing not the cause, then indeed you are growing with all things that grow, and rising toward your greater self.
When one is drunk with a vision, he deems his faint expression of it the very wine.
You drink wine that you may be intoxicated; and I drink that it may sober me from that other wine.
When my cup is empty I resign myself to its emptiness; but when it is half full I resent its half-fulness.
The reality of the other person is not in what he reveals to you, but in what he cannot reveal to you.
Therefore, if you would understand him, listen not to what he says but rather to what he does not say.
Half of what I say is meaningless; but I say it so that the other half may reach you.
A sense of humour is a sense of proportion.
My loneliness was born when men praised my talkative faults and blamed my silent virtues.
When Life does not find a singer to sing her heart she produces a philosopher to speak her mind.
A truth is to be known always, to be uttered sometimes.
The real in us is silent; the acquired is talkative.
The voice of life in me cannot reach the ear of life in you; but let us talk that we may not feel lonely.
When two women talk they say nothing; when one woman speaks she reveals all of life.
Wednesday, July 13, 2011
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Eyes the Same by Morning Teleportation
And are our eyes the same
You know the air transforms ya
We're skipping through the haze
We make love in the morning
Through thick airplane windows
I never thought I'd see the day
When seeing your face was as vital as all the suns rays
And all of the dreams that you told me about in the dark
Well I had some crazy ones too but I think they are gone now
Stand still is talking to your cosmic mystery
The mark of your milk from a limb that your senses can't see
And are our eyes the same
You know the air transforms ya
We're skipping through the haze
We make love in the morning
Well whims time lapse is fast and slow
Raw sound pushes air you know
Holy is your art
If it brings you closer to the ones you know
And are our eyes the same
You know the air transforms ya
We're skipping through the haze
We make love in the morning
And are our eyes the same
You know the air transforms ya
We're skipping through the haze
We make love in the morning
Through thick airplane windows
I never thought I'd see the day
When seeing your face was as vital as all the suns rays
And all of the dreams that you told me about in the dark
Well I had some crazy ones too but I think they are gone now
Stand still is talking to your cosmic mystery
The mark of your milk from a limb that your senses can't see
And are our eyes the same
You know the air transforms ya
We're skipping through the haze
We make love in the morning
Well whims time lapse is fast and slow
Raw sound pushes air you know
Holy is your art
If it brings you closer to the ones you know
And are our eyes the same
You know the air transforms ya
We're skipping through the haze
We make love in the morning
Friday, July 08, 2011
Kris Lucas: Why can't I do the things I want to do? There's so much I know I'm capable of that I never actually do. Why is that?
Arlen Faber: The trick is to realize that you're always doing what you want to do... always. Nobody's making you do anything. Once you get that, you see that you're free and that life is really just a series of choices. Nothing happens to you. You choose.
Arlen Faber: The trick is to realize that you're always doing what you want to do... always. Nobody's making you do anything. Once you get that, you see that you're free and that life is really just a series of choices. Nothing happens to you. You choose.
Friday, July 01, 2011
“If you think you are beaten, you are;
If you think you dare not, you don’t;
If you’d like to win but you think you can’t,
You can almost be certain you won’t.
If you think that you’ll lose, you are lost,
For out in the world you will find
Success begins with a person’s will;
It’s all in the state of the mind.
If you think you’re outclassed you are;
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve just got to be sure of yourself
Before you can win the prize.
Life’s battles don’t always go
To a stronger or faster man;
But sooner or later the person who wins
Is the person that THINKS they can.”
~Unknown
If you think you dare not, you don’t;
If you’d like to win but you think you can’t,
You can almost be certain you won’t.
If you think that you’ll lose, you are lost,
For out in the world you will find
Success begins with a person’s will;
It’s all in the state of the mind.
If you think you’re outclassed you are;
You’ve got to think high to rise.
You’ve just got to be sure of yourself
Before you can win the prize.
Life’s battles don’t always go
To a stronger or faster man;
But sooner or later the person who wins
Is the person that THINKS they can.”
~Unknown
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