Wednesday, September 16, 2009

Lead by Example

A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY


I am a great lover of the statement to ‘Lead By Example’, today I have a beautiful story that has me in tears every time I read it.


Whilst the story is about a man who is both confused and depressed the principle philosophy connection is based upon your skill to lead by example.


QUOTE: “If you motivate an idiot, you get a motivated idiot. You need to educate before you motivate.” (Jim Rohn).


Practical Philosophy is a difficult subject to teach as most of the quality insights are from your own experience. You know the fundamental principle, which once used in your own life, will provide the necessary truth in the principle.


When you think your life is at its lowest point, depression and sadness may set in. But if you compared it with a different individuals troubled life, you may realise yours isn’t so bad after all.


If you are an idiot, you may find that you attract idiots. If you are sensible, you’ll attract sensible people.


If you have a fear, which maybe for the point of today’s story, a fear of depression, you’ll attract other people with the same problem. If you could control your fear, all the other people you know who suffer the same fear will benefit.


Before you read the next story – go fetch a tissue...



photo courtesy: birdfinders.co.uk


Entitled: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY (Adapted)


“I'm a musician, songwriter and vocalist. I've spent two years in and out of the charts in the early 1990's. I'm disillusioned with the record business and their interest has waned as I have reached into my early thirties. I find little to interest me and easily get depressed with how this entertainment business works.


I needed to chill-out, get some space and re-charge my batteries. I thought the world was beginning to close in. For the last decade my life was my music. I'd started to write songs for a few potential newcomers, but none of these bands had been signed up.


I needed to get a new perspective on life so I rented an apartment by the sea for the winter of 2001. I couldn't put my finger on what was troubling me, but I knew I needed some time out.


I was sure that just one incident was going to trigger me out of the doldrums. Then I was shocked into defeat, when I went through a few months I describe below.


Today, I'm back writing songs in my studio, I have a smile and a new zest for life...


It all started when...


She was six years old when I first met her on the beach near where I'd moved to. I drive to this beach, a distance of three or four hundred yards, whenever the world begins to close in on me. She was building a sandcastle or something and looked up, her eyes as blue as the sea. "Hello," she said. I answered with a nod, not really in the mood to bother with a small child.
"I'm building," she said.


"I see that. What is it?" I asked, not caring.


"Oh, I don't know, I just like the feel of sand."


That sounds good, I thought, and slipped off my shoes. A sandpiper glided by.


"That's a joy," the child said.


"It's a what?" "It's a joy. My mama says sandpipers come to bring us joy."


The bird went gliding down the beach. "Good-bye, joy," I muttered to myself; "hello, pain," and turned to walk on. I was depressed; my life seemed completely out of balance. "What's your name?" She wouldn't give up.


"Robert," I answered. "I'm Robert Peterson."


"Mine's Wendy, I'm six."


"Hi, Wendy." She giggled.


"You're funny," she said.


In spite of my gloom I laughed too and walked on. Her musical giggle followed me.


"Come again, Mr. P," she called. "We'll have another happy day."


The days and weeks that followed belong to others: a group of unruly Boy Scouts, PTA meetings, an ailing mother. The sun was shining one morning as I took my hands out of the dishwater.


"I need a sandpiper," I said to myself gathering up my coat. The ever-changing balm of the seashore awaited me. The breeze was chilly, but I strode along, trying to recapture the serenity I needed. I had forgotten the child and was startled when she appeared.


Hello, Mr. P," she said. "Do you want to play?"


"What did you have in mind?" I asked, with a twinge of annoyance.


"I don't know, you say." "How about charades?" I asked sarcastically. The tinkling laughter burst forth again. "I don't know what that is." "Then let's just walk." Looking at her, I noticed the delicate fairness of her face. "Where do you live?" I asked.


"Over there." She pointed toward a row of summer cottages.


Strange, I thought, in winter. "Where do you go to school?" "I don't go to school. Mommy says we're on holiday."
 
She chattered little girl talk as we strolled up the beach, but my mind was on other things. When I left for home, Wendy said it had been a happy day. Feeling surprisingly better, I smiled at her and agreed.


Three weeks later, I rushed to my beach in a state of near panic. I was in no mood to even greet Wendy. I thought I saw her mother on the porch and felt like demanding she keep her child at home. "Look, if you don't mind," I said crossly when Wendy caught up with me, "I'd rather be alone today."


She seemed unusually pale and out of breath. "Why?" she asked. I turned toward her and shouted, "Because my mother died!"


I thought, my God, why was I saying this to a little child? "Oh," she said quietly, "then this is a bad day."


"Yes," I said, "and yesterday and the day before and ~ oh, go away!" "Did it hurt?" she inquired.


"Did what hurt?" I was exasperated with her, and with myself.


"When she died?"


"Of course it hurt!" I snapped, misunderstanding, and wrapped up in myself I strode off.


A month or so after that, when I next went to the beach, she wasn't there. Feeling guilty, ashamed and admitting to myself I missed her, I went up to the cottage after my walk and knocked at the door. A drawn looking young woman with honey-coloured hair opened the door.


"Hello," I said. "I'm Robert Peterson. I missed your little girl today and wondered where she was."


"Oh yes, Mr. Peterson, please come in. Wendy spoke of you so much. I'm afraid I allowed her to bother you. If she was a nuisance, please accept my apologies." "Not at all ~ she's a delightful child," I said, suddenly realizing that I meant it. "Where is she?"


"Wendy died last week, Mr. Peterson. She had leukaemia. Maybe she didn't tell you."


Struck dumb, I groped for a chair. My breath caught. "She loved this beach; so when she asked to come, we couldn't say no.


"She seemed so much better here and had a lot of what she called happy days. But the last few weeks, she declined rapidly..." her voice faltered. "She left something for you ... if only I can


find it. Could you wait a moment while I look?"


I nodded stupidly, my mind racing for something, anything, to say to this lovely young woman. She handed me a smeared envelope, with MR. P printed in bold, childish letters. Inside was a drawing in bright crayon hues, a yellow beach, a blue sea, and a brown bird. Underneath was carefully printed: A SANDPIPER TO BRING YOU JOY.


Tears welled up in my eyes, and a heart that had almost forgotten to love opened wide. I took Wendy's mother in my arms. "I'm so sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," I muttered over and over, and we wept together.


The precious little picture is framed now and hangs in my studio.


Six words - one for each year of her life - that speak to me of harmony, courage, and an undemanding love.


A gift from a child with sea-blue eyes and hair the colour of sand - who taught me the gift of love.”


(Adapted by Andy Bolton from an Unknown Author, especially to have a musical slant).


QUOTE: "As we are liberated from our fear, our presence automatically liberates other.” (Marianne Williamson).

Short Wisdom Story

Shake it off and step up


by Joseph Sica


Once upon a time there was a farmer who had an old mule. The mule fell into a deep dry well and began to cry loudly. Hearing his mule cry, the farmer came over and assessed the situation. The well was deep and the mule was heavy. He knew it would be difficult, if not impossible, to lift the animal out.


Because the mule was old and the well was dry, the farmer decided to bury the animal in the well. In this way he could solve two problems: put the old mule out of his misery and have his well filled.



photo courtesy: ruralmissouri.coop


He called upon his neighbors to help him and they agreed to help. To work they went. Shovel full of dirt after shovel full of dirt began to fall on the mule’s back. He became hysterical. Then all of a sudden an idea came to the mule. Each time they would throw a shovel full of dirt on his back he could shake it off and step up. Shovel full after shovel full, the mule would shake it off and step up. Now exhausted and dirty, but quite alive, the mule stepped over the top of the well and walked through the crowd.


A great attitude. A great way to approach life. Shake it off and step up. Too often we hold on to what has happened to us.


We hold on to it for a week, a month, even years. We cannot shake it loose from our memory. It eats away at us and steals our joy, happiness and peace of mind. The past hurt can create feelings of bitterness, resentment, anger and revenge.


We keep allowing these emotions to be thrown on our backs and if we do nothing, we will be buried deep in the well. Walls will be built in our relationships. We will avoid each other and the cold war begins.


 But, we have a choice: keep it inside and embrace the hurt or shake it off and step up. Give it a try. Shake it off and step up. Words that have been said or actions that have been done, shake it off and step up. Let it go. Whatever it is: a rude comment, a past mistake, being ignored, we can stew over it all week. It occupies us all the time.


Too often we nurse hurts, we keep them alive inside and go over them time and time again; not only stewing from them, but now chewing them over and over until it gets us sick. Too often we rehearse hurts, tell everyone what has happened to us.


The cure is to accept what has happened, try to make sense out of it, learn from it, then shake it off and step up. When you let it go you feel free and you are no longer buried in the well. Once you are on your feet again you can take some action. You decide where you want to grow in life, the direction you want your life to take. You decide whether you will allow the hurt to make you a bitter or a better person. Learn from it. Emerge stronger.


THAT'S LIFE! If we face our problems and respond to them positively, and refuse to give in to panic, bitterness, or self-pity...THE ADVERSITIES THAT COME ALONG TO BURY US USUALLY HAVE WITHIN THEM THE POTENTIAL TO BENEFIT AND BLESS US!


Remember that FORGIVENESS --FAITH--PRAYER-- PRAISE and HOPE...all are excellent ways to "SHAKE IT OFF AND STEP UP" out of the wells in which we find ourselves!


Andy Bolton


Short Wisdom Stories

Monday, September 14, 2009

Science of Mind

The Dalai Lama influences many people, his theory about the science of mind also influence the science of Kharma. Allow this video the explore the subject further.



I hope you enjoyed the video, please navigate this site further.


Andy Bolton


Good Kharma

What is Love?

Love is such a complex subject. It is said that before you can love others, you must first love yourself. You must respect and admire your own actions, not to fuel your ego, but to make you credible.


When you see this love, you can then offer an equal to others.


Upon my study of anger, I found that 95% of the time anger is self inflicted. That is that when you are angry at someone, you were first angry at yourself.


Love is exactly the same. If you sense your love is fading, first look at yourself and correct and tweak your own actions.


If you could avoid expectations in love, you’ll be surprised at how frequent love repays your own endeavours.


Imagine a few blissful hours with your children in the park. You’ve bonded a little more. You walk home alongside the supermarket and seen and old lady struggling with her shopping. You have no hesitation; you tell the children to hold on a moment until you’ve helped pack the shopping in the car boot for this lady.


You return home and your partner has cooked the perfect meal, the house is tidy, the dining table set for a banquet. The children flitter through the house, find a seat to rest their tired body and sit quietly reading or watching television.


That may or may not be the perfect ending to a few hours play in the park, but it was if someone was watching.


The love you gave your children in the park, made you alert enough to see the lady struggling at the supermarket, whereas another day you’d have missed it. Your partner another day may well have been on the phone when you arrived back and flustered with the daily chores.


If you give it, you’ll receive it back! If you live in a world of lies, you’ll only ever dream of love…


Whilst this next story is called ‘Great Expectations’ it should be called, ‘Apply the Truth and Bliss Will Follow…’


Great Expectations


Pete Rose, the famous baseball player, and I have never met, but he taught me something so valuable that it changed my life.


Pete was being interviewed in spring training the year he was about to break Ty Cobb's all time hits record. One reporter blurted out, "Pete, you only need 78 hits to break the record. How many at-bats do you think you'll need to get the 78 hits?" Without hesitation, Pete just stared at the reporter and very matter-of-factly said, "78." The reporter yelled back, "Ah, come on Pete, you don't expect to get 78 hits in 78 at-bats do you?"


Mr. Rose calmly shared his philosophy with the throngs of reporters who were anxiously awaiting his reply to this seemingly boastful claim. "Every time I step up to the plate, I expect to get a hit! If I don't expect to get a hit, I have no right to step in the batter's box in the first place!"


"If I go up hoping to get a hit," he continued, "Then I probably don't have a prayer to get a hit. It is a positive expectation that has gotten me all of the hits in the first place."


When I thought about Pete Rose's philosophy and how it applied to everyday life, I felt a little embarrassed. As a business person, I was hoping to make my sales quotas. As a father, I was hoping to be a good dad. As a married man, I was hoping to be a good husband.


The truth was that I was an adequate salesperson, I was not so bad of a father, and I was an okay husband. I immediately decided that being okay was not enough! I wanted to be a great salesperson, a great father and a great husband. I changed my attitude to one of positive expectation, and the results were amazing. I was fortunate enough to win a few sales trips, I won Coach of the Year in my son's baseball league, and I share a loving relationship with my wife, Karen, with whom I expect to be married to for the rest of my life! Thanks,
Mr. Rose!


(Barry Spilchuk, Speaker and Author)


QUOTE: “I love you, and because I love you, I would sooner have you hate me for telling the truth than adore me for telling you lies.”


(Pietro Aretino)


ANDY BOLTON


What is Love?