There is someone that I have known for many many years, we share similar blood that is all, he is a cousin of mine.  On the night of my mothers second marriage I remember staying at his house, he was 15 I was 5.  That was the night I learnt to block, the night that I learnt to go to a different place in my head.  I am not going to go into details for there is really no need.  I spoke to an adult, also related to me, about what happened and they said that it was a part of my imagination and that I was just causing trouble.  I was five, pretty funky imagination if you ask me. 

After that night I avoided anything that had to do with him or involved him in any given way.  The reasons are many but instinct said that a) if I came close to him it would happen again and that meant it was my fault cause I wasn't careful enough and b) no one would believe me.  Even as an adult I still, to this day, avoid him.

The universe though isn't finished with this story and for some reason the Puppet Master (PM) decided to send this cousin of mine to my other facebook account, that of Munkay Shmunkay.  I set this account up last year because as I travelled so did Munkay, he did everything with me.  Yes, this included finishing off all my drinks, eating all the cookies and burning the toast (yip, it was all him). 

Imagine my shock though to log in one day and see this face staring up at me going "Add Friend Request".  My name is not linked to Munkay, in no other shape or form is it linked.  Only a handful of people have ever known it was me and that is because they partied with Munkay and blamed stuff on him as well... conspirators if you will.  No, this wonderful cousin of mine found me randomly and totally by chance. 

Universe you are a wonderful thing.

I have sat with this dilemma for a couple of days now, do I reject him or accept him?  At first this was a soul dilemma about whether I had truly forgiven him for what he did then it evolved into a moral one about principles. 

My heart and soul rests now that I have come to the decision to reject his "application" to be my friend.  I rejected him not out of rage, anger or hate, I forgave his ass a long time ago.

I rejected him on the principle that although I have forgiven him I do not accept his behaviour towards me, I do not condone it nor will I ever support it.  Just because I have forgiven him it doesn't mean I have to be friends with him even if it is only in the "online" world.

So tell me, what would you have done?  Would you have accepted him or would you have told him "you're the weakest link goodbye"?

"It's not that easy bein' green;
Having to spend each day the color of the leaves.
When I think it could be nicer being red, or yellow or gold-
or something much more colorful like that."

Kermit is no different from any of us. I can't count the number of times that I wished circumstances were different, that I was as pretty as the girl next door, as rich as the lawyer down the street, as athletic as the girl softball players, play an instrument like my cousin - the list could go on and on and on... and you know what, none of those things happened. I soon forgot about those wishes and went on to others, never really accepting who, what, how or why I was like I was.

After many years of searching and being disappointed because things didn't turn out like I wanted them to, I finally learned to accept my limitations and be who I was and learned to live with it. Just like Kermit said :

"When green is all there is to be
It could make you wonder why, but why wonder why? Wonder,
I am green and it'll do fine, it's beautiful!
And I think it's what I want to be."

That is, until I discovered that I could change how circumstances affected me - how I could think differently and my life would be different - I could be all that I wanted to be, if I truly wanted that to happen. I finally learned that if I desired something intensely enough and worked toward that desire, it would occur. The sad thing is that it took me so many years to learn this - the happy thing is that I did learn and now am making my life according to my desires and it is so much fun! That is how I reached my perfect body weight and have maintained it.

The first step toward any real and lasting change is to have a desire so strong that it is foremost in your mind at all times. Do you remember the first time your realized that you had found the perfect "soul mate" and that you did everything you could to please that person, because you wanted that person in your life forever. I'll bet you were willing to change a lot of things, the way you walked, the way you talked, the way you wore your hair, your appearance, your demeanor. Now that's desire! That's the kind of desire you have to have in order to begin to change the way you think about yourself so you can achieve that goal you are reaching for. You must have a clear, bright, complete picture of what it is that you desire, every detail that you can think of must be in your picture and then you must focus on that picture until you see it so clearly that you believe it is there - and it will be, within a short time.

Once you have achieved your heart's desire, don't stop there, find another desire, bigger and better and work toward that - this is the only way you will ever be the person you were put on earth to become, and you will find that being "green" is o.k. but choose the color, size, and texture - just be "green" with all the whistles and bells.

Think Thin Thoughts!

Adinear

Please note that there may be the odd swear word within this post.  I hold no  responsibility for that though, the onus is upon you.

I got a gift from my blogging family today and I honestly, honestly, seriously, honestly don't quite know what to say.  I realise that my last penalty post on The Gift of Giving was a set up, I see this now.  Now I have to eat my words with cream and sprinkles.

No one has ever done something like this for me before. No one.  I don't know what to say except words that seem so lame now. Thank you from the bottom of my heart and further beyond all imagination. 

Thank you

I honestly don't know what possessed any of you to go out of your way to do something like this for ME.  I sit here and still my mind spins faster than the old Concords engines.  I can't believe it. 

I went from this

to this

...in split seconds, I'm talking faster than Schumacher on Acid here

Those are the visuals of me, this is how it went verbally, via Instant Messenger, in my head, in my heart and all the while with tears of mass confusion.   

erm hun you lost me, wtf are you talking about???

There is a SanityFound Fund and people in the blogging world have been busy

Sorry say THAT again??? A WHAT???

A SanityFound Fund to help with your Escape Plan to freedom.  Everyone has been busy putting it together so that you can get out of prison.

Sorry I must be having the strangest of dreams, wtf did you just say???

[I think I may have sworn more, am not proud but I was in shock]

Come again???  No no you have to be JOKING

NO NO NO uh ah NO NO NO

No seriously

!!!WAIT STOP THE BUS am!!!

I can NOT accept any kind of help like this, this is point blank SILLY and I will NOT accept anything and I mean ANYTHING

[some nonsense about how I need to realise and eat my words of all my posts]

How can I accept this from people who barely know me, I don't understand why people would do this, why???

Because not everyone is like those in your past, not everyone gives expecting to receive, some give because they want to give, some give because they want to help, some give because they love you.  You have to accept this gift because you are worth it, you are worthy and we love you.  We want to see you free, we want to help you become free.

WTF is going on

I said a lot more, I refused a lot more.  I do NOT cry but I am sitting here with tears, floods, rolling down my cheeks and the lump in my throat feels as though it will soon choke off all my oxygen supplies.  I do not understand but I will try.  I am so overwhelmed and my heart and soul are so full.

How do you accept a gift? What is the right way of accepting one like this? I have never received anything like it in my entire life. What is still going through my head?

"I am just me, this is me, they still like me, wait... they would do THIS for me? ME? huh! ME??" The wheels don't stop spinning.  My world is rocked to its very core and will never be the same again.

The administrator of this SF Fund has not told me who donated towards my planned escape.  I do not know who you are, I would like to know who you are so that I can thank you in person but if you would like to stay anonymous then that is also fine.  If you prefer to let Amber know then I will get the details from her and thank you via that. 

I want to thank each and everyone of you not only for this but also for your words, your comments, your emails and your thoughts.  When you least know it you pull me through a day where I think I would surely drown.  Some have said they wonder how I stay floating... it is because of you. 

This is blown me away, I never expected it and still find it hard to understand why you would do this for me.

I will never be able to pay this back, I can only pay it forward, so this is what I will do.  I will pay your incredible kindness and generosity forwards. 

Once I am set up on the other side where freedom resides I will pay back each and every cent put into this fund and more so.  This fund will then go forward to the next person who needs a helping hand when none are being given. 

I am speechless

I am stunned to my very core

I am still crying

Thank you from the bottom of my heart and soul

Thank you

I wish I could give you the biggest hug ever, I hope that one day I will meet you in 3D and do so for real.  This now is one of my biggest dreams.  To meet each one of you.

*Thank you*

I will have to rewrite this later... am speechless!

THANK YOU!!!

The Sissy Duckling

They boxed while Elmer baked. When they built forts, Elmer made sand castles. They had a football game, and Elmer put on a puppet show.

Anyone who is different from other guys will appreciate this book. Not just for the touching message but for the gripping storyline (gripping might be a slight exaggeration). It gave us all a bit of a laugh.

So maybe we didn't cover anything related to queer life but we did have much excite (bad English intended).

I have an exciting weekend ahead... My movie night tomorrow and more movies on Sunday at the queer movie day.

william says:
well, you are utterly homophobic

But she has no issue with it...

Ferret says:
true
Ferret says:
nurture vs nature
Ferret says:
i hate homosexuals

I would have, at one point, actually described her as the most accepting person I know. That's that theory out the window. I'll cross her off my list of people to tell.

In tomorrow's installment, I'll be embarking on my next mission... To come out to the queer group at school. Stay tuned!

Job 6:14 A despairing man should have the devotion of his friends, even though he forsakes the fear of the Almighty.

Our opening verse today sums up what follows. Job has just expressed his sense if inability to help himself. This is an important point for those of us who would call ourselves ‘friends' or even ‘comforters'. In the depths of despair, our friend feels utterly unable to do anything about it. I have rarely experienced depression, but on the odd occasion when it has occurred, I have been aware that there was no point someone saying to me, “Come on, snap out of it!” You just feel utterly incapable of doing anything that will change what you feel. Now that may not be so in reality but that is what you ‘feel' at that point. Job identifies himself as a ‘despairing man'. That is what he feels – despair – a sense of utter loss and hopelessness. Have you realised that these studies are not only about how to be a comforter, but also about the depths that human experience can go to?

What is Job's primary need in this state of despair? Devotion of his friends! What does devotion mean in this context? It means stick-ability! The ability to stay close to our friend! Now that needs thinking about. Our friend has gone down into the depths of despair and they feel alone, utterly isolated in their blackness. What they need is a sense of someone alongside them, there in the blackness, someone who understands it and is there for them, utterly accepting and without judgment. I have commented before about a girl I knew who was in the depths of mental illness, in the blackness of utter confusion, and yet, as I related to her, I sensed the presence of the Lord with her, right there in the midst of that confusion, a loving, caring and accepting Presence, there for her. Can we be Jesus to our friend in these circumstances? Only with the grace and enabling of God!

That is what Job needs, but what has he received? See how he continues. He paints a vivid picture: “But my brothers are as undependable as intermittent streams, as the streams that overflow when darkened by thawing ice and swollen with melting snow, but that cease to flow in the dry season, and in the heat vanish from their channels.” (v.15-17) Oh, what a condemnation of us perhaps! My brothers are undependable. Job wants people he can depend upon, people who will always be there for him, but they are not like that, these ‘friends'. They are, he says, like streams that get filled and deep in the winter but in the summer dry up and disappear.

He paints the picture some more: “Caravans turn aside from their routes; they go up into the wasteland and perish. The caravans of Tema look for water, the traveling merchants of Sheba look in hope.” (v.18,19) He imagines Arab caravans in the wilderness, searching desperately for water in these streams, but there is done, just like he's searching desperately for a life-giving resource in his friends. He sees how those Arab traders respond to their plight: “They are distressed, because they had been confident; they arrive there, only to be disappointed,” (v.20) just like he had been. When his friends had turned up there had been confident hope, but as Eliphaz started out, he was disappointed. He concludes: “Now you too have proved to be of no help; you see something dreadful and are afraid.” (v.21). They had come and seen him and saw him as ‘ something dreadful' and their hearts fell and they were fearful. What, they thought, had happened to him? What had God done to him? And they jumped to wrong conclusions.

As he thinks about this, he muses, what have I ever asked from you except simple friendship: “Have I ever said, `Give something on my behalf, pay a ransom for me from your wealth, deliver me from the hand of the enemy, ransom me from the clutches of the ruthless'?” (v.22,23). Had he ever made demands of them that required them to pay out, or come to his aid against enemies? No, never. He only asked for simple, accepting friendship. Look, he says, I'm open for you to show me if I am genuinely wrong: “Teach me, and I will be quiet; show me where I have been wrong.” (v.24). I realise that honest words can be painful, but I've listened to what you've said and you prove nothing: “How painful are honest words! But what do your arguments prove?” (v.25) Why are you bothering to try and correct the words of a despairing man, words which you want to write off as just meaningless like wind : “Do you mean to correct what I say, and treat the words of a despairing man as wind?” (v.26). This seems so heartless that you give me the impression that, “You would even cast lots for the fatherless and barter away your friend.” (v.27).

And then he makes a final plea: “But now be so kind as to look at me. Would I lie to your face?” (v.28) Please, look me in the face. I'm trying to be honest, I wouldn't lie to you, I would tell you if I had sinned (implied). He goes on, “Relent, do not be unjust; reconsider, for my integrity is at stake.” (v.29). Please, step back from this stand you've taken against me, be fair, because this is my integrity and my reputation you are talking about here. And finally, “Is there any wickedness on my lips? Can my mouth not discern malice?” (v.30) Please, listen carefully. Am I saying anything that is patently wicked? Have I not always been careful what I say, please be gentle with me!

These are the pleas of this man of integrity whose only ‘sin' is to be in the midst of immense suffering for apparently no reason. The reason, as we had the privilege of seeing, is that he is going through God's testing process, but it's a process that doesn't only test him; it also tests his three friends! If we are such a ‘friend' we need to realise that when our friends are in trouble, it is also a test for us!

Both of these events placed me in a separated state of being. The day to day was lived because I knew if I did not trudge on I was worse off then dead. The way I saw it if there was something wrong with me then everyone was going to worry about me. The last thing that I wanted was for people to worry about me, so I learned real quick how to mask emotions and float by. I did all of it just because other people told me that it was something that I had to do to fit into society.

I was numb and pretending to feel, a horrid mix for a teenager. I lost too many years of learning how to handle ups and downs. I lost too many years learning how to properly express myself. I lost too many years finding out who I was as a person. Any bit pf potential that I had went toward masking that there was anything wrong in my life. The really good teachers still saw every bit of it, but they knew if they let on I would close up. So they pushed me and tested me, some decided that I would find my own greatness and achieve it.

Well the events of getting and losing my first girl friend. Being over medicated and feeling like a social outcast when I had a large group of friends, the confusing year at college with a roommate that was crazier then me all tore my down to the point where once again my potential was not reached.

Today I heard it in my seventh grade teachers voice. Back in the seventh grade right in the thick of everything, my teacher had us all write down something in a journal. We had ten minutes and we could write whatever we wanted. she was never going to look at them. Well I decided that I was going to create a new world. A world of dragons, so everyday for ten minutes I wrote about dragons. It was that journal that led me to my love for writing. The sharing of emotions, the creating of things that did not exist before the pen hit the paper and the escape from it all. Well today at work I told her when she passed by that I was still writing, she told me she was so glad to hear it, she said it made her day that I was still writing. I for her was one of the moments she wanted to teach.

There are a few people that see greatness in me. I am having a hard time figure out what they see but I know that they can see it. Since the formation of this blog I have gone through enormous amounts of changes. I have figured out things that have been racing around in my mind for years and I am finally starting to feel things. Happy, sad and angry. Each one of them I am working on figuring out and doing things that adequately balance them. Most of the time if I can remove myself from the stressor and think out my response to it, I find that I have the ability to pace through anything thrown at me, but from time to time I get a little caught up and forget to stop and think about what is going on.

So I can personally tell you there is an off switch to your emotional core, and when you turn it off get ready because you have to deal with everything that comes your way without an emotion helping learn what is bothering you, in order to turn your core back on.

Mind, Body and Emotions. All need to be healthy and well kept.

-NK

I was at the gym doing dead lifts, possibly one of the more difficult exercises to self monitor as far as form goes. I guess when I was doing the exercise my form was a little off, and with the amount of weight I was doing, it could have possibly gone poorly. So this was when one of the personal trainers who works at the gym comes up to me and says something to the effect of "Hey man, now I don't mean to intrude or anything, but I think you need to focus a little more on your form." I tell him that I was unaware that my form was off, he goes on to explain how I should be doing (like I don't know), he also acknowledges that I am pushing a lot of weight, and that he does not want to diminish that fact. I simply say yes thank you, I will keep closer look in the future. He must have picked up on the fact that I wasn't listening that closely because he kept going on about the dangers of not doing the exercise properly, and that if I focused on form, I would get the same benefits with less weight. I concluded the conversation by saying thank you and that I would make sure to try that next time.

So during this whole conversation, I was very very defensive, I acknowledged the fact that I probably did have bad form for the last few reps, and then thats all I wanted to hear. I stopped listening about 5 seconds into the conversation, and kept getting more and more agitated as he kept pushing at it; I was even aware that I was doing it, but that didnt matter! The most interesting thing is that I felt that way despite the fact that he did almost everything right:

He apologized for interrupting me,
He was in a position to know better (he is a personal trainer)
He tried to stroke the ego by mentioning the weight I was pushing
He provided reasoning behind why I should focus on form and how it wouldn't effect my workout

He did almost everything right, yet I was still not receptive to anything he really had to say. This to me was very interesting, especially since I was aware of what was happening when he was telling me this. I then did some introspection, and I did find what it was that I took exception to, and it did have nothing to do with the personal trainer guy, it had to do with me, I don't like to be wrong, even if I may be aware of it. I was proud of the weight I was doing, and then he came that I was doing it wrong, I was the wrong and in a public setting to boot. If this had been a private one on one training sessions and he had said I needed a little correction that would have been fine, but he pointed out that I was wrong in front of many people.

This was an interesting experience for me, because it demonstrated that there are times when you can do everything "right" but still not get the result you desire, even if you have the best intentions. The trainer guy just wanted to help me out, but I was having none of it, despite the fact he approached the situation almost perfectly. I would love to here other personal examples of when you got defensive when receiving advice or you noticed someone that was being difficult when you were giving advice because I find this topic very interesting, and every bit of experiential information helps to put this, sorry for the lame analogy, puzzle together.

--Steve

Homophobia

I hate it when people use the term “fag” to talk about someone who is homosexual. When I went to high school, a performing arts high school with a higher gay population then my college, the use of the term “fag” wasn’t used as liberally as I’ve heard it used in the past 2 years. I find the term offensive, but I never say anything to stop anyone from using it because I do not want to hear people attempting to defend themselves. I hate hearing people get backed into corners and awkwardly shielding themselves from seeming like rude ass holes.

I’ve noticed the people who often call homosexual people fags are those who think that homosexuality is something that can be corrected, or spread like aids.  The idea that homosexuality can be fixed assumes that someone would want to change the fact that they are homosexual, as if everyone’s identity is wrapped around their sexuality. Sexuality is a part of you, yes, but it doesn’t determine whether you prefer red to blue, or who you define yourself as (At least I hope).

Of course, even as I write this you bring your prior opinions toward homosexuality, and my 2 short paragraphs don’t dream of attempting to change your beliefs. So let me continue, with MY opinions.

If you know my brother, then you know at a young age he already displays effeminate characteristics. (Kind of like that kid on Ugly Betty.) Let me stress acting effeminate doesn’t make a guy gay. (The hot body of Thomas Jane makes men gay…RAWR!!!!.jk) His dad is convinced that pursuing my brother’s interests in the performing arts ,like dance, are making him gay. Trust me he’s not the only little boy’s father who thinks activities associated more with girls will make his son gay. My brother likes to sing and shimmy shake along with the intro to Hannah Montannah so yesterday no one was surprised to see my brother dancing. His dad walked in and yelled something along the lines of not wanting his son turning into a “fag”, after that statement, my brother cast his eyes to the floor and turned Hannah Montanna off. I realized the fear of homosexuality isn’t suppressing people from being gay, but making people more ashamed of being themselves. In the event that my little brother is gay, I’d want him to know his family is somewhere he doesn’t have to be afraid of being himself. Sexuality shouldn’t have enough power to drive wedges between families.

Too much power is given to a person’s sexuality in today’s society. In the scheme of your identity, sexuality determines a small part of who you are. The fear of “gayness” before a person is gay shouldn’t have the power to scare someone away from things they enjoy because they are afraid of being perceived as gay. I guess all I’m saying is sometimes I think we give our sexualities too much power over who we are.

Challenge #7 10:41 AM

-Terel

Because my friend wasn't exactly sure how to explain this to me, we went to ask her brother.  Her brother explained that grace is God holding a jacket out to us and that mercy is us accepting God's grace and allowing God to put that jacket on us.  WOW.  What a distinct difference.  I didn't think i would ever forget that, but i wanted to record it, just in case....

Membership is free and the only requirement is that you own and ride a scooter, love your scooter, and are not a mean person. Contact me for more info.

r

It is, in a word, awesome.

Might I add, very hott.  Hopefully it doesn't get too much worse later on, but it probably will.  Oh well.

Maybe you have noticed that I haven't quite been posting so much on here as I used to.  I try, really, I do.  But, with two other blogs beckoning to me, its rather difficult to keep them all up.  But I manage as best I can.  Actually, I think I'm doing rather well.  Personally, I like posting on the other two more.  Simply because they are new.  I don't know, I just got sort of bored with this one, wanted to start out again.  So I did.  Twice, actually. =P.  Well, once and then restarted an old project.
Anyway, sorry if you are feeling neglected.
Just nothing super note-worthy lately, other than my new SENIOR-status.
I guess I lie, because there is plenty to post about on the other blog (that has all the secrets on it).  Always something to post about on there.  Actually, I just remembered, there's something else that needs to be added.  See!  Just, nothing good for here.

Don't you see?
I'm so all over the place its not even funny.  I got a little here, a little here, some more in another place, and still more somewhere else.
And yet, there's enough of me to spread around.
No wonder I can't find someone who fits me perfectly....Nobody else I know spreads around that much.  Christina comes close, yet she's still not there.  Amanda isn't even close, but don't get me started on Amanda.
But, back to what I was saying....So spread out.
Its fun, just hard to have a person who knows ALL.  Nobody knows all.
Because its hard for me to have someone know all.  I don't want them to hate me for something.   I don't want  someone to see apart of me and be like "Oh my god, that doesn't fit"!  Which, most doesn't fit with each other, which is the hard part.

Maybe one day I'll fit it all together for someone.
Maybe one day I'll find someone who will accept all of it.
Maybe one day they'll like me for most of it.
And maybe one day, well, we're not going there right now...... ;)

"Le Match d'Impro" has some specifities like the "Mixte" impro, where teams mix up to create scenes together. What seemed like a good idea in fact rarely works.

[fr]

Je n'arrive pas à me faire au Match d'Impro. Malgré ma dernière visite que j'avais moyennement appréciée, je suis retourné à la LIFI l'autre soir pour assister à la Finale. J'ai décidé d'y aller car nous avons en ce moment au sein de la troupe Eux un improvisateur invité venu de Chicago avec qui nous travaillons. Je n'étais pas particulièrement enthousiaste à l'idée de l'emmener voir un match, mais je voulais l'emmener voir de l'impro typiquement française, et le Match d'Impro reste le format le plus pratiqué ici. L'emmener voir des professionnels, c'était aussi lui montrer ce qui se fait de mieux, dans des conditions que peut d'équipes peuvent se permettre: salle prestigieuse, décorum impeccable, supporters nombreux (la salle était pleine)...

Qu'est-ce qui est constitutif du match? Après une discussion houleuse sur le forum d'Impro France, j'en suis arrivé à la conclusion que l'improvisation "Mixte" est l'élément constitutif du Match d'Impro. Le TheaterSports et le ComedySportz, deux formats compétitifs d'Amérique du Nord, possèdent aussi le décorum d'une compétition sportive. Mais, à ma connaissance, les équipes ne se mélangent pas pour improviser ensemble (ou rarement lors d'un spectacle). Alors que dans le match, la Mixte a une place de choix. Pour beaucoup, c'est en Mixte qu'on "improvise vraiment" car on ne peut pas se reposer sur son caucus, et que la présence de gens avec qui on n'improvise pas d'habitude rend leurs réactions imprévisibles.

Et pourtant, c'est de là que vient un comportement bizarre du Match. Comme dans beaucoup de formats compétitifs, le public vote pour l'impro qu'il a préféré. Le problème vient des critères sur lesquels le public juge l'improvisation. Chacun est capable de dire si une scène est bonne ou non. Personnellement, je pense que les scènes qu'on présente au public sont souvent si mauvaises qu'on apprend au public non pas à apprécier une bonne scène, mais plutôt à apprécier les éléments dans cette scène qui vont le faire rire: gags, cabotinages (souvent sexuels), jeux de mots, et bataille pour le pouvoir. Autant les gags, les cabotinages, les jeux de mots ne sont pas plus présents en Match d'Impro qu'ailleurs, autant je pense que la bataille pour le pouvoir et la recherche du contrôle sont fortement renforcés par les improvisations mixtes en Match d'Impro.

Après une Mixte, le public vote souvent pour l'équipe qui a "dominé" l'impro: ceux qui ont eu les statuts les plus forts, ceux qui parlent le plus fort, ceux qui s'imposent physiquement sur scène (par la violence ou le surnombre), ceux dont les idées sont suivies (par choix ou par nécessité). Parfois, on suit les choix de l'improvisateur qui va faire les meilleures propositions, ce qui est positif, mais rare. En effet, pour "obtenir le point" l'équipe tente souvent de contrôler l'impro. Le Match d'Impro renforce donc ce comportement, qui est pourtant déjà une difficulté à surmonter lorsqu'on improvise tout court: lâcher le contrôle n'est pas facile.

Je l'avais déjà souligné dans mon précédent billet: il y a une peur de lâcher le contrôle. Mais c'est mon invité qui me l'a fait remarquer concrètement. Les improvisateurs que nous avons vu à la finale ne disaient pas "Oui, et..." mais disaient constamment "Oui, mais..." C'est pratique: ça donne l'impression qu'on accepte, mais en fait pas vraiment. On dit "Oui" par convention, et notre cerveau fonctionne à plein pour expliquer pourquoi ça ne va pas marcher. C'est un moyen très élégant de garder le contrôle. Et c'est particulièrement triste, car alors qu'on voudrait voir les improvisateurs prendre des risque, le format valide ce genre de comportement en récompensant l'équipe qui est la plus experte à ce jeu-là.

Arrêtons de dire "Oui, mais...", essayons de dire "Oui, et..." et alors notre improvisation s'améliorera. Le public n'aura plus alors à se rattacher aux gags, cabotinages, jeux de mots et luttes pour le pouvoir. Peut-être alors qu'à nouveau il ne saura plus pour qui voter en mixte, non pas parce que c'était si mauvais, mais parce que c'était si bon...

Last night, I was suddenly struck by the thought that in all my prayers every evening for the past three months, not once have I prayed for myself. I thought on why this might be, and came to the realisation that it feels somehow selfish to pray for myself. I can ask others to pray for me (though that, too, feels almost... I don't know, self-centred? Self-indulgent?) but it just doesn't feel right to pray directly for myself.

This may be, in part, a hangover from old ways as a Wiccan before I converted; in Wicca one is taught that all magic and divination should be for others, not the self, and that you should never try to see your own future. Or perhaps this is a block placed against me, so that I cannot pray for myself; I have been warned that occult powers will not let go of me so easily, and certainly I have been aware of temptations placed in my path which, thanks be to God, I have thus far avoided. I am aware of some of my old feelings of doubt creeping back during unwary moments, but each time I have found that praying a decade or two of the Rosary or reading a spiritually-inspiring passage overcomes them and fills me with awareness of the Holy Spirit once more. At my baptism, David and Jackie gave me a holding cross as a baptismal gift, and holding that also helps comfort and reassure me.

I wonder, do others have problems praying for themselves, or is this something I should work harder at? Should I be asking others to pray for me to overcome this block?

95% towards perfection is the better goal. Striving for excellence should be the standard,  achieving 95% excellence is the objective. The last 5% is unnecessary, unwarranted, unprofitable and fails to return an adequate return on the investment so it not a worthy goal. In addition it creates deeper problems. There should be a 100% attitude, but a 95% result.

Achieving perfection is more of a statement about the person attempting to accomplish this then a part of the business plan or the desired quality of the product, as 95% is good enough. This does not mean we should opt to produce an inferior item, or deliver a less effective service. It absolutely does not mean reducing the standards of the program. It simply means that perfection is not the standard we should be trying to achieve. Perfection does not have a place in the business world.

Review this comparison, and if it applies to yourself or anyone in your organization consider the effect such an attitude may have on your likely business success. Striving towards achieving excellence is a most worthy application of our efforts and should be an objective of every person and every organization.

Striving for perfection is folly, and will get you into trouble in addition to  preventing you from achieving your attainable goals.

If you have an individual in your organization, or if its your attitude we are evaluating, consider the alternatives, men trying to achieve excellence but not perfection are more likely to succeed, and enjoy their time. Comparisons are important, evaluate your situation and then make appropriate adjustments to your or your men's style, goals and objectives, or it could put you out of business. 

Men striving for excellence but not perfection are more trusting, spontaneous, willing to take risk, are confident, are willing to be wrong and are more successful.

Men chasing perfection are always focused on the results, missing the value of the process, are too serious, lack fun and spontaneity, judges self harshly, plays it safe, full of self doubt, very controlling, needs proof and always have to be right, takes far less risk, and are mot often skeptical about everything.

Do you know anyone like this?

If you have a perfectionist on your team, you will understand the above comparison and realize the danger such a person is to the well being of your organization. If it is you, the business owner, we are describing, change your ways.

I read these beautiful words from Hafiz last week and since then these words have provided the mind with nothing but contemplation. Just the words alone resonated within my Being and captured my imagination. I find myself pondering and consumed by my thoughts about this very quote. It surely was not the intention to draw me back into the ego and a clouded mind - but I find myself just constantly inundated by thoughts.

Painstakingly, the need to write down feelings, thoughts, rants, raves, or plain words drives the insanity of this busy mind. The need to write is an outlet and freedom from enslaving thoughts. So here I am.

Lately, my journey to find myself has almost come full circle. Reading “A New Earth” by Eckhart Tolle has definitely changed who I am. I am calmer if you can believe that. I have had others tell me so as well.

There must be a need to pen on paper that offers insight to me. When I read the words, I can imagine a flute and Christ’s spirit moving through each hole – producing beautiful, calming, and moving music. Each note played results from the marriage of our very being and Christ. While not just Christ in the physical sense of form but the very spirit for which He is – God.

In the beginning when God created man, he gave life to “man” by breathing into his nostrils.

GEN 2:7 the LORD God formed man out of the clay of the ground and blew into his nostrils the breath of life, and so man became a living being.

Christ – the human form of God – lived to show us how to live. I truly believe this and I believe that God continues to show himself to us today – but constantly miss him. It’s very easy to get lost in the “beware of the wolf in sheep clothing” stigma.  Think about the last time you used this very same quote – truly trust in these words will help you miss God.

I trust that the answers lie within me and this embarks me on a journey of trust. I am the very spirit that God breathed into me and Christ became that spirit to show me how to accept suffering and how to live. To recognize my being and learning to be still, I can listen more closely to very breath that lives within me.

I'd carefully selected what I would wear the night before, and I had packed a bag with towel and a change of clothes plus a plastic bag to put my wet things in. The T-shirt I put on was brand-new - a simple, plain white T-shirt made from Fairtrade cotton. Given St.Mary's recent Fairtrade accreditation, it seemed appropriate. I teamed this with white denim shorts, over which I wore a long white cotton skirt.

It was a little after 10am when we set off for church. Freda was as happy and bubbly as ever, though I think she knew something different was going on today, as her father - my partner David - had never accompanied us to church before - and nor had Liz.

Carol, the bishop's wife, met us outside the church gate and asked how I was feeling, laughing reassuringly when I replied that I was nervous; and once inside both Jackie and David Baker were there as well. Freda's confusion when we didn't go to our customary pew but instead went up to the front pew on the left was very apparent, and she clung very tight to her dad!

Simon was very welcoming and reassuring, and we quietly went over what would happen; he had provided extra towels as well, in case needed. Then it was back to the pew to sit and wait in nervous anticipation; this was eased a little by the arrival of friends - first Francis, then Tony. Elizabeth came over to whisper a few encouraging words, and then Simon was at the front in white robe and red stole, and it had started. Opening prayers, a first hymn, Steph stepping up to say a bit about Christian Aid week - and then Simon was beckoning me forward; this was it!

He beckoned the others up to stand with Jackie and David around the pool, and at some point - I didn't see when - our friend Sam was there, holding Freda whilst Freda's dad readied the camera. And suddenly all my nerves were gone; instead I felt calm, relaxed and yet focused. As Simon asked if I wished to be baptised, would I submit to Christ, accept Jesus as my saviour, my responses came steady and clear, my voice projecting easily. And then came the moment I think I had been most nervous about - my testimony.

I'd had some rough idea of how I would do this, but right up until the moment I stepped up to the lectern I didn't know exactly what to say. And then I looked over the sea of faces, and the words just came. I cannot remember the exact words now, but I told a story of a long journey and an uphill struggle along a rough, rocky road. And sometimes I got sidetracked and took the wrong path; but each time I would find myself going in circles until I ended up back at the beginning again. I told of how it seemed in some ways, I have spent my whole life getting to this point - but baptism for me was not to be the end of my journey, but a gateway. I looked out at the sea of faces, many of them familiar to me now, and told them that though I know the road ahead will not always be easy, I am not afraid; because I will not be walking it alone - they, too, are walking the same path, all on their own journey of faith; and we do not make that journey alone, because God is with us every step of the way.

And as I stepped down from the lectern and walked back to stand beside Simon, I felt complete calm and peace inside. Any doubts I had had up to that point that I was doing the right thing were gone; this felt completely, utterly right.

Then came the sign of the cross; first Simon traced it on my forehead with water, then Jackie, then her husband David - and to my surprise and joy, Sam. Then it was time; Simon stepped into the pool first, and I slipped off the skirt and stepped in after him. I sat down in the clear, warm water, and I smiled at the children who had come to sit around the pool to get a close view.

Then Simon lowered me down into the water; three times the water closed over my head, and then I sat up and it was done. I was baptised. And I couldn't stop smiling!

Simon and I nipped off to dry off and get changed, and as I made my way back to the front pew again, friendly faces on all sides were smiling at me, calling out congratulations and blessings. And then I sat down next to Sam, and David passed Freda over to me as the rest of the service continued. At the end, Simon called me back up to the front and gave me a lit candle; and then it was all over. David Baker gave me a parcel and card from himself, Jackie and their son Jonathon, Elizabeth came over to give me a hug - as did Carol, who had to leave to go to the Pentecostal prayer day being held in Millwall. Tony also had to take his leave, but I'm very glad he had been able to make it - as had Richard, whom I had until now only known via LiveJournal. It was lovely to be able to put a face to the presence I'd known online, and I'm very glad that he, too, was there to share in this wonderful day.

And indeed, the entire day was marvellous! I spent the rest of the day feeling as though I were walking on air. I have been told that apparently I looked radiant, which is a pretty good way to describe how I felt - and indeed, still feel as I write this!

This is not the end of my journey. But it is an important gateway; today I died to my old life as a pagan, and was reborn again in Christ. Hallelujia!