2009年2月28日 星期六
2009年2月27日 星期五
When Love Becons You
When love beckons you, follow him, though his ways are hard and steep. And when his wings enfold you, yield to him, though the sword hidden among his pinions may wound you. And when he speaks to you, believe in him, though his voice may shatter your dreams as the north wind lays waste the garden.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tender’s branches that quiver in the sun, so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
But if, in your fear, you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing – floor, into the season less world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not, nor would it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love.
Love melt and belike a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love.
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy.
To return home at eventide with gratitude.
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon lips.
For even as love crowns you so shall he crucify you. Even as he is for your growth so is he for your pruning. Even as he ascends to your height and caresses your tender’s branches that quiver in the sun, so shall he descend to your roots and shake them in their clinging to the earth.
But if, in your fear, you would seek only love’s peace and love’s pleasure, then it is better for you that you cover your nakedness and pass out of love’s threshing – floor, into the season less world where you shall laugh, but not all of your laughter, and weep, but not all of your tears. Love gives naught but itself and takes naught but from itself. Love possesses not, nor would it be possessed, for love is sufficient unto love.
Love melt and belike a running brook that sings its melody to the night.
To know the pain of too much tenderness.
To be wounded by your own understanding of love.
And to bleed willingly and joyfully.
To wake at dawn with a winged heart and give thanks for another day of loving.
To rest at the noon hour and meditate love’s ecstasy.
To return home at eventide with gratitude.
And then to sleep with a prayer for the beloved in your heart and a song of praise upon lips.
2009年2月26日 星期四
2009年2月25日 星期三
Pursuit Of Happiness
We chase after it, when it is waiting all about us.
“Are you happy?” I asked my son, Yi Jun, one day because he always look unhappy. “Yes or no, it depends on what you mean,” he said.
“Then tell me,” I continued, “When was the last time you think you were happy?”
“Perhaps 6th December.” he said.
It served me right for putting a serious question to someone who has joked his way through life. But Yi Jun’s answer reminded me that when we think about happiness, we usually think of something extraordinary, a pinnacle of sheer delight – and those pinnacles seem to get rarer the older we get.
For a child, happiness has a magical quality. I remember making hide-outs in big pipes, playing cops and robbers in the woods, getting a speaking part in the school play. Of course, kids also experience lows, but their delight at such peaks of pleasure as winning a race or getting a new bike is unreserved.
In the teenage years the concept of happiness changes. Suddenly it’s conditional on such things as excitement, love, popularity and whether that zit will clear up before prom night.
In adulthood the things that bring profound joy – birth, love, marriage also – bring responsibility and the risk of loss.
In dictionary defines happy as “lucky” or “fortunate”, but I think a better definition of happiness is “the capacity for enjoyment”. The more we can enjoy what we have, the happier we are. It’s easy to overlook the pleasure we get from loving and being loved, the company of friends, the freedom to live where we please, and even good health.
Yesterday, I added up my little moments of pleasure. First there was sheer bliss after I enjoy my delicious breakfast and had the house to myself. My wife and younger son was going back Sri Cheeding home village. Then I spent an uninterrupted evening writing my blog, which I love. When they com home, I enjoy another pleasure – intimacy. Sometimes just the knowledge that he wants me can bring me joy.
You never know where happiness will turn up next. Perhaps you like lonely shopping day, but sometime shopping with a group of people can chats and really cheers you up.
I get a thrill from driving. One day I stopped to let a car turn onto a side road. The driver grinned and gave me hand up sign. We were two allies in a world of mad motorists. It made me smile.
We all experience moments like these. Too few of us register them as happiness.
Psychologists tell us that to be happy we need a blend of enjoyable leisure time and satisfying work. I doubt that my father was 74 years old, who raised 5 children and took in shoes making. He did have a network of close friends and family, and maybe this was what fulfilled him. If he was happy with what he had, perhaps it was because he didn’t expect life to be very different.
We, on the other hand, with so many choices and such pressure to succeed in every area, have turned happiness into one more thing we “gotta have.” We’re so self – conscious about our “right” to it that it’s making us miserable. So we chase it and equate it with wealth and success, without noticing that the people who have those things aren’t necessarily happier.
While happiness may be more complex for us, the solution is the same as ever. Happiness isn’t about what happens to us – it’s about how we perceive what happens to us. It’s the knack of finding a positive for every negative, and viewing a setback as a challenge. It’s not wishing for what we don’t have, but enjoying what we do possess.
2009年2月24日 星期二
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2009年2月23日 星期一
Childhood Days
When you came into the world, she held you in her arms.
You thanked her by weeping your eyes out.
When you were 1 year old, she fed you and bathed you.
You thanked her by crying all night long.
When you were 2 years old, she taught you to walk.
You thanked her by running away when she called.
When you were 3 years old, she made all your ms with love.
You thanked her by tossing you’re your plate on the floor.
When you were 4 years old, she gave you some crayons.
You thanked her by coloring the dining room table.
When you were 5 years old, she dressed you for the holidays.
You thanked her by plopping into the nearest pile of mud.
When you were 6 years old, she walked you to school.
You thanked her by screaming, “I’m not going!”
When you were 7 years old, she bought you a baseball.
You thanked her by throwing it through the next-door-neighbor’s window.
When you were 8 years old, she handed you an ice cream.
You thanked her by dripping it all over your lap.
When you were 9 years old, she paid for piano lessons.
You thanked her by never even bothering to practice.
When you were 10 years old, she drove you all day, from soccer to gymnastics to one birthday party after another.
You thanked her by jumping out of the car and never looking back.
When you were 11 years old, she took you and your friends to the movies.
You thanked her by asking to sit in a different row.
When you were 12 years old, she warned you not to watch certain TV shown.
You thanked her by waiting until she left the house.
Those Teenage Years
When you were 13, she suggested a haircut that was becoming.
You thanked her by telling her she had no taste.
When you were 14, she paid for a month away at summer camp.
You thanked her by forgetting to write a single letter.
When you were 15, she came home from work, looking for a hug.
You thanked her by having your bedroom door locked.
When you were 16, she taught you how to drive her car.
You thanked her by taking it every chance you could.
When you were 17, she was expecting an important call.
You thanked her by being on the phone all night.
When you were 18, she cried at your high school graduation.
You thanked her by staying out partying until dawn.
Growing Old and Gray
When you were 19, she paid your college tuition, drove you to campus, carried your bags.
You thanked her by saying good-bye outside the dorm so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of your friends.
When you were 20, she asked whether you were seeing anyone.
You thanked her by saying, “It’s none of your business.”
When you were 21, she suggested certain careers for your future.
You thanked her by saying, “I don’t want to be like you.”
When you were 22, she hugged you at your college graduation.
You thanked her by asking whether she could pay for a trip to Europe.
When you were 23, she gave you furniture for your first apartment.
You thanked her by telling your friends it was ugly.
When you were 24, she met your fiancé and asked about your plans for the future.
You thanked her by glaring and growling, “Mother, please!”
When you were 25, she helped to pay for your wedding, and she cried and told you how deeply she loved you.
You thanked her by moving halfway across the country.
When you were 30, she called with some advice on the baby.
You thanked her by telling her, “Things are different now.”
When you were 40, she called to remind you of a relative’s birthday.
You thanked her by saying you were “really busy right now.”
When you were 50, she fell ill and needed you to take care of her.
You thanked her by reading about the burden parents become to their children.
And then one day she quietly died.
And everything you never did come crashing down like thunder.
“Rock me baby, rock me all night long.”
“The hand who rocks the cradle … may rock the world.”
Let us a moment of the time just to pay tribute and show appreciation to the person called mom though some may not say it openly to their mother. There’s no substitute for her. Cherish every single moment. Though a times she may not be the best of friends, may not agree to our thoughts, she is still your mother! She will be there for you … to listen to your woes, your bragging, your frustrations, etc. Ask yourself … have you put aside enough time for her, to listen to her “blues” of working in the kitchen, her tiredness? Be tactful, loving and still show her due respect though you may have a different view from hers. Once gone, only fond memories of the past and also regrets will be left.
Don’t take for granted the things closest to your heart. Love her more than you love yourself. Life is meaningless without her …
You thanked her by weeping your eyes out.
When you were 1 year old, she fed you and bathed you.
You thanked her by crying all night long.
When you were 2 years old, she taught you to walk.
You thanked her by running away when she called.
When you were 3 years old, she made all your ms with love.
You thanked her by tossing you’re your plate on the floor.
When you were 4 years old, she gave you some crayons.
You thanked her by coloring the dining room table.
When you were 5 years old, she dressed you for the holidays.
You thanked her by plopping into the nearest pile of mud.
When you were 6 years old, she walked you to school.
You thanked her by screaming, “I’m not going!”
When you were 7 years old, she bought you a baseball.
You thanked her by throwing it through the next-door-neighbor’s window.
When you were 8 years old, she handed you an ice cream.
You thanked her by dripping it all over your lap.
When you were 9 years old, she paid for piano lessons.
You thanked her by never even bothering to practice.
When you were 10 years old, she drove you all day, from soccer to gymnastics to one birthday party after another.
You thanked her by jumping out of the car and never looking back.
When you were 11 years old, she took you and your friends to the movies.
You thanked her by asking to sit in a different row.
When you were 12 years old, she warned you not to watch certain TV shown.
You thanked her by waiting until she left the house.
Those Teenage Years
When you were 13, she suggested a haircut that was becoming.
You thanked her by telling her she had no taste.
When you were 14, she paid for a month away at summer camp.
You thanked her by forgetting to write a single letter.
When you were 15, she came home from work, looking for a hug.
You thanked her by having your bedroom door locked.
When you were 16, she taught you how to drive her car.
You thanked her by taking it every chance you could.
When you were 17, she was expecting an important call.
You thanked her by being on the phone all night.
When you were 18, she cried at your high school graduation.
You thanked her by staying out partying until dawn.
Growing Old and Gray
When you were 19, she paid your college tuition, drove you to campus, carried your bags.
You thanked her by saying good-bye outside the dorm so you wouldn’t be embarrassed in front of your friends.
When you were 20, she asked whether you were seeing anyone.
You thanked her by saying, “It’s none of your business.”
When you were 21, she suggested certain careers for your future.
You thanked her by saying, “I don’t want to be like you.”
When you were 22, she hugged you at your college graduation.
You thanked her by asking whether she could pay for a trip to Europe.
When you were 23, she gave you furniture for your first apartment.
You thanked her by telling your friends it was ugly.
When you were 24, she met your fiancé and asked about your plans for the future.
You thanked her by glaring and growling, “Mother, please!”
When you were 25, she helped to pay for your wedding, and she cried and told you how deeply she loved you.
You thanked her by moving halfway across the country.
When you were 30, she called with some advice on the baby.
You thanked her by telling her, “Things are different now.”
When you were 40, she called to remind you of a relative’s birthday.
You thanked her by saying you were “really busy right now.”
When you were 50, she fell ill and needed you to take care of her.
You thanked her by reading about the burden parents become to their children.
And then one day she quietly died.
And everything you never did come crashing down like thunder.
“Rock me baby, rock me all night long.”
“The hand who rocks the cradle … may rock the world.”
Let us a moment of the time just to pay tribute and show appreciation to the person called mom though some may not say it openly to their mother. There’s no substitute for her. Cherish every single moment. Though a times she may not be the best of friends, may not agree to our thoughts, she is still your mother! She will be there for you … to listen to your woes, your bragging, your frustrations, etc. Ask yourself … have you put aside enough time for her, to listen to her “blues” of working in the kitchen, her tiredness? Be tactful, loving and still show her due respect though you may have a different view from hers. Once gone, only fond memories of the past and also regrets will be left.
Don’t take for granted the things closest to your heart. Love her more than you love yourself. Life is meaningless without her …
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