"I have learned that if you must leave a place
That you have lived in and loved,
And where all of your yesterdays are buried deep -
Leave it any way except slow;
Leave it the fastest way you can.
Never turn back and believe that an hour you remember
Is a better hour because it is dead.
Past years seem safe ones, vanquished ones,
While the future lives in a cloud, formidable from a distance.
The cloud clears though, as you enter it.
I have learned this, but like everyone,
I learned it late."
- Beryl Markham, 1902-1986
English-born Author, Aviator and Race Horse Trainer
LIFE = little boat big sea...... The lesson Beryl talks about is "Memento Mori", the Latin quote for 'Remember You Will Die". I have been pushing that philosophy ever since.... Well you know. Death has to be life's motivation. Simple. But the APATHY plague prevents the logic of that mantra being maximised to the extent it must become. Just gotta keep chipping away I guess. Either that or have a big crash like Moi. Then the search (for meaning and purpose) begins in earnest.
Anyway to brighten your day up a little I want to share with you this beautiful story. Sooky boy here has already shed the ritualistic tear or two. Now it's your turn......
Anyway to brighten your day up a little I want to share with you this beautiful story. Sooky boy here has already shed the ritualistic tear or two. Now it's your turn......
I'm Flying! (Roger Dean Kiser, Sr.)
Once upon a time there was a little boy who was raised in an orphanage.
The little boy had always wished that he could fly like a bird. It was very difficult for him to understand why he could not fly. There were birds at the zoo that were much bigger than he, and they could fly. "Why can't I?" he thought. "Is there something wrong with me?" he wondered.
There was another little boy who was crippled. He had always wished that he could walk and run like other little boys and girls. "Why can't I be like them?" he thought.
One day the little orphan boy, who had wanted to fly like a bird, ran away from the orphanage. He came upon a park where he saw the little boy, who could not walk or run, playing in the sandbox.
He ran over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly like a bird.
"No," said the little boy who could not walk or run. "But I have wondered what it would be like to walk and run like other boys and girls."
"That is very sad," said the little boy who wanted to fly. "Do you think we could be friends?" he said to the little boy in the sandbox.
"Sure," said the little boy.
The two little boys played for hours. They made sand castles and made really funny sounds with their mouths. Sounds which made them laugh real hard. Then the little boy's father came with a wheelchair to pick up his son. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to the boy's father and whispered something into his ear.
"That would be OK," said the man.
The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new friend and said, "You are my only friend and I wish that there was something that I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys and girls. But I can't. But there is something that I can do for you."
The little orphan boy turned around and told his new friend to slide up onto his back. He then began to run across the grass. Faster and faster he ran, carrying the little crippled boy on his back.
Faster and harder he ran across the park. Harder and harder he made his legs
travel. Soon the wind just whistled across the two little boys' faces. Laughing. In Heaven.
The little boy's father began to cry as he watched his beautiful little crippled son flapping his arms up and down in the wind, all the while yelling at the top of his voice,
"I'M FLYING, DADDY.... I'M FLYING!"
Once upon a time there was a little boy who was raised in an orphanage.
The little boy had always wished that he could fly like a bird. It was very difficult for him to understand why he could not fly. There were birds at the zoo that were much bigger than he, and they could fly. "Why can't I?" he thought. "Is there something wrong with me?" he wondered.
There was another little boy who was crippled. He had always wished that he could walk and run like other little boys and girls. "Why can't I be like them?" he thought.
One day the little orphan boy, who had wanted to fly like a bird, ran away from the orphanage. He came upon a park where he saw the little boy, who could not walk or run, playing in the sandbox.
He ran over to the little boy and asked him if he had ever wanted to fly like a bird.
"No," said the little boy who could not walk or run. "But I have wondered what it would be like to walk and run like other boys and girls."
"That is very sad," said the little boy who wanted to fly. "Do you think we could be friends?" he said to the little boy in the sandbox.
"Sure," said the little boy.
The two little boys played for hours. They made sand castles and made really funny sounds with their mouths. Sounds which made them laugh real hard. Then the little boy's father came with a wheelchair to pick up his son. The little boy who had always wanted to fly ran over to the boy's father and whispered something into his ear.
"That would be OK," said the man.
The little boy who had always wanted to fly like a bird ran over to his new friend and said, "You are my only friend and I wish that there was something that I could do to make you walk and run like other little boys and girls. But I can't. But there is something that I can do for you."
The little orphan boy turned around and told his new friend to slide up onto his back. He then began to run across the grass. Faster and faster he ran, carrying the little crippled boy on his back.
Faster and harder he ran across the park. Harder and harder he made his legs
travel. Soon the wind just whistled across the two little boys' faces. Laughing. In Heaven.
The little boy's father began to cry as he watched his beautiful little crippled son flapping his arms up and down in the wind, all the while yelling at the top of his voice,
"I'M FLYING, DADDY.... I'M FLYING!"
........ little big ME ....... Hold on....... (tissues, nose blow)
Gets me every time that story, no matter how many times I read it. Pretty nice, don't you think? Oh how coooool it would be if we could all improvise some happiness like that gorgeous little boy did for his friend.
As I said in the last BLOG thingie there is a little child in all of us. There has to be. We were once a little child, no? All that has happened is that we grew up and out and older. But the little kid is WEE because we were and are, if you get the drift. As we tick tick tick away our lives the TIME we have already lived becomes a part of our UPPER CASE ME.
It has to BE.....
SEE...
Those two little friends couldn't achieve what each individually desired, but they were able to help the other achieve what each one individually desired.
Pretty nice if we all lived like that, huh?
Gets me every time that story, no matter how many times I read it. Pretty nice, don't you think? Oh how coooool it would be if we could all improvise some happiness like that gorgeous little boy did for his friend.
As I said in the last BLOG thingie there is a little child in all of us. There has to be. We were once a little child, no? All that has happened is that we grew up and out and older. But the little kid is WEE because we were and are, if you get the drift. As we tick tick tick away our lives the TIME we have already lived becomes a part of our UPPER CASE ME.
It has to BE.....
SEE...
Those two little friends couldn't achieve what each individually desired, but they were able to help the other achieve what each one individually desired.
Pretty nice if we all lived like that, huh?
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