by Thomas Heng
Humility, you are profound indeed!
You slip out of our grasp when we speak
You elude us when we stand to profess
Yet you reside in us when we are still
In silence we marvel at your nature
In solitude we wonder at your beauty
Rare indeed is the one who truly is
Humble amidst the company of humans
For you are not proclaimed through words or deeds
Not in accomplishments alone are you clearly seen;
But through the mere act of being amongst nothingness
Are you most accurately discerned
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Showing posts with label life. Show all posts
Sunday, 3 January 2010
Friday, 25 December 2009
Blessed Morning
by Thomas Heng
Bright is your light
Great is your promise
Precious is your moment
Eternal is your union with all creation
Saturday, 19 December 2009
On Risk
by Thomas Heng
Risk is inherent in today's world. Some may believe that in an increasingly risky world, it would be best not to do anything at all and watch the world go by or sort itself out, that it is better to wait till it's 'safe' again. Nothing could be further from the truth.
While it may seem that the world has become a lot more dangerous today than ever before (by the way I would disagree with that, though it will probably best be left to another post!), the opportunity for ordinary people to become all that they can be is also greater than ever. Having said that, it would be prudent to examine the nature of risk before plunging headlong into a venture based on a nebulous concept of reward. For to undertake any meaningful enterprise without clarity as regards its potential risks and rewards is, well, very risky indeed.
It is essential to distinguish between the risks that are external to oneself, and those that are created within. Risks that are solely external to oneself are few and far between; most of the time such risks occur suddenly without forewarning, and can at best be managed only after the event. However, it is precisely the management of risk that can and should be the premise of the individual, that is, risk management is wholly internal in nature.
This insight provides comfort for those of us who feel that life is increasingly outside of our control, that business is becoming unsustainable, and that the future of our very existence lies in the hands of people (or other entities) whom we do not know, let alone understand. One of the keys is in our perception of risk and the occurrence of unexpected events. How one handles major global events is not identical to how another deals with them. Which means that we have the power of choice to determine the precise meaning of each event that 'happens' to us.
A strategic approach to life and business that incorporates the principle of risk management does not mean that we start treating the people in our lives as chess pieces. Rather, it means that we are acutely sensitive to the environment around us, and that we pay particular attention to how, on an individual level, affect others around us, and ponder upon our words, thoughts, and actions as we release them from our inner being.
what this is about
being myself,
communication,
inspiration,
leadership,
Learn to Apply,
learning,
life,
management,
mindset,
purpose,
success,
sustainabilty,
values,
wisdom
Sunday, 13 December 2009
On Pursuit
by Thomas Heng
Not to beat down the Other
Nor to promote Oneself
Not for Riches from without
Nor for Glory for its own sake
Not to avenge some Injustice
Nor to cast aside one's own Afflictions
Not for one's Redemption
Nor for Others' sake
You are but the natural Consequence; the
Sum of mind, flesh and ego; when
Aligned to universal Spirit; a
Response to divine Grace
what this is about
Destiny,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
love,
mindset,
passion,
philosophy,
purpose,
wisdom
Monday, 7 December 2009
On Conscience
by Thomas Heng
The voice of conscience
Eludes the wisest of sages;
Its nature often cloaked
In the unlikeliest of guises
Desire shouts it down
Fear drowns it out;
Two emotions both alike
Yet neither are true to Self
Still the soul, quieten the spirit
Notice while looking within;
Let Wisdom lead one to the
Essence of one's Being
what this is about
being myself,
inspiration,
life,
philosophy,
purpose,
wisdom
Sunday, 29 November 2009
Taking Stock
The past few months have been hectic but truly rewarding. I've not really had the opportunity to pause and take stock, let alone write as plainly as you are reading right now. There is a certain freedom that comes with the ability to reflect on past events with sufficient clarity and distance. I must admit that being able to compose the occasional poem or rhyme gives me immense joy, and I do hope reading my work has done a little for the same for you as well!
Amidst the darkness of the preceding months, with the global economic downturn and all that, opportunities have been coming my way more than ever, and I am truly blessed to be more able than ever to make the most of them. Now that the recession is loudly proclaimed (in the mainstream media at least!) to be over, perhaps you may be tempted to believe that it's back to business as usual. That may indeed be true, although it may not be surprising to realise that things do not return to normality just yet.
While many will in all likelihood resume 'regular' activities, there is no return to the darkness of self-absorption, approval-seeking-from-the-other-person way of life for yours truly. The future is bright, brighter than ever. It's not like the path had darkened for me in the past months, so I can't in all honesty say that the light has returned; for me, it has never departed!
Over the next few weeks I'll be consolidating my musings, reflections and thoughts, as part of my mission to apply what I have learnt. In the meantime, do share what you like about the content, style and tone of the topics I've raised thus far, and what more you'd like me to share about these issues. To help you further, here's a list of guiding questions, and yes, you can definitely suggest areas of improvement too:
- What do you like most/least about the blog's contents?
- What do you like most/least about the blog's style?
- What do you like most/least about the blog's tone?
- What would you like to add most to the blog?
what this is about
Blogging,
discussion groups,
entrepreneur,
learning,
life,
opinions,
recession
Sunday, 22 November 2009
Keys to Success
by Thomas Heng
Consider
Life
As
Really
Important
To
Yourself
Forget
Other
Considerations
Utilise
Spirit
Let
Information
Seep
Through
ENtirely
Master
Emotions
Always
New
INsights
Gained
Excellence
Never
Excludes the
Results
Generated by
You
When
In
Silence
Dwell
On
Me
Place
Ultimate
Recognition on
Personal
Objectives that
Serve
Everyone
Life
Of
Virtuous
Excellence
what this is about
affirmations,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
love,
philosophy,
purpose,
wisdom
Saturday, 14 November 2009
The Mystery of Choice
by Thomas Heng
Choice, a word oft used yet much abused
When paired with Freedom, one finds War
When bounded with Rationality, one risks Conformity
When teamed with Dichotomy, Falsehood reigns
Choice, a word simple yet profound
When confronted with the mirror of Truth
Suppression flees, as does Fear and Loss
Only Purpose and Wisdom remain
Guiding one's steps towards Destiny
what this is about
contentment,
Destiny,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
mindset,
philosophy,
purpose,
wisdom
Friday, 6 November 2009
On Gratitude
by Thomas Heng
More than mouthing mere words
Rather a stirring from deep within
That resonates with the Other
One in union with the Infinite
More than a reflex action
Rather a deed of purpose
That initiates from the Soul
Rippling outward beyond boundaries
what this is about
contentment,
inspiration,
life,
love,
mindset,
purpose,
wisdom
Friday, 30 October 2009
On Mission
by Thomas Heng
Visualisation of the dream is the first step towards creating reality
But it is Mission that provides purpose to Sight,
That directs and drives Action.
While the forces of Doubt do their best to thwart Action,
It is Mission that sustains faith, and Vision that preserves hope,
Blessed indeed are those who do not see, and yet believe.
For Vision, Mission and Action are but one,
In union with faith, hope and love, striving towards Destiny
And eternal Harmony with the Infinite.
Visualisation of the dream is the first step towards creating reality
But it is Mission that provides purpose to Sight,
That directs and drives Action.
While the forces of Doubt do their best to thwart Action,
It is Mission that sustains faith, and Vision that preserves hope,
Blessed indeed are those who do not see, and yet believe.
For Vision, Mission and Action are but one,
In union with faith, hope and love, striving towards Destiny
And eternal Harmony with the Infinite.
what this is about
Destiny,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
love,
philosophy,
purpose,
Vision
Friday, 23 October 2009
On Suffering
by Thomas Heng
Oh! that Man can be so deluded, to
Believe that Suffering o'er him reigns;
Permanent though Suffering may seem, yet
Immortal she is not.
For Pain is only as strong as its victim
Who may well tremble under her rod; yet
Ownest her Man must, for
Such is his birthright.
Ally with Pain, once Man's enemy,
Transform fear into faith
Allow Suffering to run her course,
The fullness of Man's Destiny awaits.
Oh! that Man can be so deluded, to
Believe that Suffering o'er him reigns;
Permanent though Suffering may seem, yet
Immortal she is not.
For Pain is only as strong as its victim
Who may well tremble under her rod; yet
Ownest her Man must, for
Such is his birthright.
Ally with Pain, once Man's enemy,
Transform fear into faith
Allow Suffering to run her course,
The fullness of Man's Destiny awaits.
what this is about
Destiny,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
philosophy,
purpose
Thursday, 15 October 2009
First Love
by Thomas Heng
Not in the glimpse cast by one's object of fancy
Nor in the presence of one's ephemeral desire
Nor in the ardour of another's eyes
But in the union of eternal souls
Not in the entwining of one's body with another
Nor in the afterglow that soon expires
But in the moment of one's creation
For without the Infinite all things are meaningless
With the Divine nothingness become purposeful
Not in the glimpse cast by one's object of fancy
Nor in the presence of one's ephemeral desire
Nor in the ardour of another's eyes
But in the union of eternal souls
Not in the entwining of one's body with another
Nor in the afterglow that soon expires
But in the moment of one's creation
For without the Infinite all things are meaningless
With the Divine nothingness become purposeful
Wednesday, 7 October 2009
Renewal
by Thomas Heng
"Unnoticed by the crowd;
Passed on by the world;
Discounted by the brethren."
Impaled by self-doubt.
Are these shackles not self-imposed?
Are these wounds not self-inflicted?
Are these not the chains of self-delusion?
Awaken, and watch the virtual binds loosen completely.
The time has come for self-exile to end;
As the permafrost melts, so must the hibernation cease;
As the earth renews itself, so does one's nature;
Claim the inheritance that is your destiny.
"Unnoticed by the crowd;
Passed on by the world;
Discounted by the brethren."
Impaled by self-doubt.
Are these shackles not self-imposed?
Are these wounds not self-inflicted?
Are these not the chains of self-delusion?
Awaken, and watch the virtual binds loosen completely.
The time has come for self-exile to end;
As the permafrost melts, so must the hibernation cease;
As the earth renews itself, so does one's nature;
Claim the inheritance that is your destiny.
what this is about
affirmations,
being myself,
inspiration,
life,
philosophy,
purpose,
wisdom
Monday, 28 September 2009
Without
by Thomas Heng
LORD, with you I can
Arrive without preconception
Enter without qualification
Partake without charge
Hope without proof
Witness without evidence
Share myself without judgement
Provide solace without comfort
Illuminate without being engulfed
Be right without being righteous
Be humbled without humiliation
Be content without avarice
Be hurt without suffering
Revisit without rancour
Toil without weariness
Persist without approval
Proceed without wavering
Persevere without vindication
Love without reward
Leave without being abandoned
May I always remain in Your Love
without losing faith in You
Amen.
LORD, with you I can
Arrive without preconception
Enter without qualification
Partake without charge
Hope without proof
Witness without evidence
Share myself without judgement
Provide solace without comfort
Illuminate without being engulfed
Be right without being righteous
Be humbled without humiliation
Be content without avarice
Be hurt without suffering
Revisit without rancour
Toil without weariness
Persist without approval
Proceed without wavering
Persevere without vindication
Love without reward
Leave without being abandoned
May I always remain in Your Love
without losing faith in You
Amen.
what this is about
affirmations,
being myself,
Commitment,
contentment,
Destiny,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
love,
philosophy,
purpose,
values,
wisdom
Sunday, 20 September 2009
Ultimate Thoughts
by Thomas Heng
The ultimate wealth is Freedom
The ultimate knowledge is Truth
The ultimate measure is Results
The ultimate pain is Regret
The ultimate folly is Greed
The ultimate failure is Inaction
The ultimate gift is Forgiveness
The ultimate peace is Being Oneself
The ultimate wisdom is Knowing the Divine
The ultimate joy is Remaining Connected to the Divine
The ultimate price is Personal Responsibility
The ultimate journey is Life
The full meaning of suffering cannot be adequately comprehended without taking into account the ultimate sacrifice of laying down one's life for the sake of people who scarcely deserve it.
The ultimate wealth is Freedom
The ultimate knowledge is Truth
The ultimate measure is Results
The ultimate pain is Regret
The ultimate folly is Greed
The ultimate failure is Inaction
The ultimate gift is Forgiveness
The ultimate peace is Being Oneself
The ultimate wisdom is Knowing the Divine
The ultimate joy is Remaining Connected to the Divine
The ultimate price is Personal Responsibility
The ultimate journey is Life
The full meaning of suffering cannot be adequately comprehended without taking into account the ultimate sacrifice of laying down one's life for the sake of people who scarcely deserve it.
what this is about
being myself,
contentment,
inspiration,
life,
philosophy,
wealth,
wisdom
Sunday, 13 September 2009
'I am your friend now, rock...'
This essay is written by a 15-year-old student from Singapore.
I find it rather meaningful, so I'm sharing it with you here, enjoy.
'I am your friend now, rock...'
by Chew Chia Shao Wei, Raffles Girls' School
THERE was something vaguely sad about the rock. It was as old as it looked, standing weathered and lonely amidst the stretch of sand, and its thoughts were quiet as it listened to the waves.
The wide unconquerable sea touched the edges of the land like a curious animal in the way it rolled forward eagerly onto the shore. It left the land unwillingly, pulling as it went, grasping for what it could. The sand in the shallow water swirled.
The sea was no stranger to the rock on the beach. The sea came often to the rock, rushing up wetly against its warm grey, and always as it swept away it took an infinitesimal part of the rock with it. The rock had known the waves for a long time, and learned it was in its nature to erode.
One day, the sunlight on the rock was interrupted by a brief darkness in the blurred shape of a bird. The rock, interested, observed the bird winging its way uncertainly about the sky, then landing, presently, on the very rock that wondered about it.
'Where am I?' said the bird, largely to itself, as it gripped the surface of the dark grey rock with its feet and peered out at the sea.
'What are you?' countered the rock.
'I am a bird,' said the bird in surprise.
'You are a rather rude sort of bird,' the rock pointed out calmly. 'I was enjoying the sun when you came and blocked some of it from me.'
Birds exist for a very short while in comparison to rocks, and have less time to develop the exceptional serenity that rocks possess. The bird hopped from one foot to another, flapping its white wings in annoyance.
'You are a big, stupid rock!' the bird cried, its beak clicking irately. 'Funny you should feel so important, when one of these days you will have been reduced by the sea to a tiny grain of sand!'
'Yes,' agreed the rock, surprising the bird yet again, 'I shall feel rather sad when that day comes.'
'Wait, no - you are confusing me - we are in the middle of an argument!'
'I made a comment, and you responded rather explosively, after which I shared with you a private thought in concurrence with something you had said. That was not an argument at all.'
The bird paused mid-hop, disgruntled. 'Well, you are a very well-spoken rock,' it conceded, 'and not at all stupid; I'm sorry.'
The rock hummed peaceably in response and returned to its own thoughts. The bird, feeling wholly ignored, allowed itself to settle down on its newfound perch, and examined mentally the conversation that had just taken place.
Some time passed before the bird spoke again, hesitantly, as if now remembering its manners and unwilling to intrude upon the rock again.
'Rock, will you truly end up one day as nothing more than a grain of sand?'
'I expect so,' the rock rumbled. 'The sea works at me constantly, you know.'
'Is that awfully sad?' asked the passionate bird, who, while given to tempers, was intrinsically kind-hearted.
'Only to those who care,' the rock admitted, 'only to me.'
The bird was deeply moved by this, by the loneliness of the rock and the seeming inevitability of its fate. The bird considered the situation, and felt it must do something to aid the rock. Although their acquaintance had gotten off to a bad start, the bird found it rather liked the warm, rough rock, and was unwilling to leave it alone to the hunger of the sea.
'I care,' volunteered the bird, 'I will do something to help you, rock, if you will let me.'
'No,' said the rock, laughing in a way that did not mock the bird. 'Don't waste your time.'
But the bird had found a cause.
'I am your friend now, rock,' it said, and the rock was touched.
'You are just a bird,' the rock said, 'and you will be able to do nothing.'
The bird did not disagree. 'I will try.'
Over the next few days, the bird tried a variety of ways to get the rock out of harm's way. It started with simple pushing, which had proved futile, and progressed to increasingly creative ideas. On the eighth day, the bird had looped several lengths of seaweed around its friend, in the hopes of being able to pull it further up the shore.
The rock had never observed with much significance the passing of the days, and entire years blurred in its long memory, but this had been a week that would stand out forever. The frustration, the laughter, and the gratitude that the rock had experienced along with the bird would be preserved as colour images amidst a wash of sepia recollections.
The time had come, however, to begin to dissuade the bird of its altruistic notions, lest it exhaust itself with the efforts of the fruitless undertaking.
Bird was picking the rope of seaweed up in its mouth for the seventh time that day when the rock addressed it.
'I do thank you for your efforts,' it began, 'but I am beginning to feel that this was a hopeless enterprise. I know you have expended much energy over it, and it has not gone unappreciated, but perhaps we must stop here.'
The bird dropped the end of the seaweed and made to protest, but the rock would not allow it.
'You have been a faithful friend, but it seems that here I am and here I will remain. The sea works slowly, and I have much time left yet. One day, I will be sand on the beach, but the idea does not bother me so much now.'
The rock did not add that through getting to know the bird, it had realised exactly how much more ephemeral was the life of the bird, and begun to feel selfish for being unsatisfied with the idea of eventually ending up a small grain of sand.
'Let us abandon this pursuit, and instead look to happier things,' the rock ended, hoping to mollify the bird. In truth, it was unsure that the bird, now robbed of his cause, would stick around for much longer, and the thought made it feel a shiver of unhappiness.
The bird, wordlessly, began the task of unwrapping the seaweed it had covered the rock in. There was resignation in its wingtips. When it had finished, it glanced at the rock with which it had spent eight sun-drenched days, then flapped slowly into the distant sky.
The rock watched it go.
The beach was blanketed by night when the rock once again felt the feet of the bird sharp against its surface.
'I am sticking around,' the bird told the rock, 'so you won't forget me, even when you are just a grain of sand.'
The rock said nothing, but it was happy.
The years moved on, then, like they always had. The rock stayed in the same place even as the world changed around the little beach, and the bird, going off frequently on expeditions to see the world, returned always to the rock it had met so long ago.
'Tell me a story,' the rock asked the bird once, as it landed lightly.
'But you are so old and wise, no story would interest you,' teased the bird. It was older now, and it knew ever so much more about the world.
The rock chuckled, and the bird complied. 'I will tell you about the strange things I saw the last time I flew past these cliffs...'
Sometimes, it was the bird that asked for the story.
'The earth was young once,' the rock would begin, in a vivid story of the colours of the wind.
And always, imperceptibly, the years moved on - like they always had.
One morning, a long, long time from the day the bird and the rock had first met, the rock was abruptly aware of a different quality to the day. There was something in the air, maybe, or something about the sea, or the sand - the rock was uncertain, but something was different and wrong. The colours felt wrong, for instance, the sky felt green and the sand was turning white, and the sea when it touched the rock felt hot and cold and hot again.
'Bird...'
That was a strange thing for the rock to do, for it never spoke aloud when it was alone. But it called out anyway, tentatively, 'Bird... Bird...'
The word was snatched away by the wind, but it seemed to echo in the dark beach. The rock was very still, and began to feel something it had never before felt: fear. It spread slowly and coldly like the pink sun rising softly over the horizon, and the rock found that it knew that its friend the bird had died.
'How and why,' the rock murmured numbly to itself, to the sand, to the sea. 'How and why and how and why and why. Goodbye, goodbye, oh, goodbye.' So saying, it slipped gently asleep.
The bird never returned, just as the rock never again expected it to. The rock became silent once more, unused to conversation as it had once been. Its thoughts were numerous but never aired now, and frequently, it thought of its dearest friend, the bird.
As for the years, they moved on like they always had, and the world changed around the rock, just like the world was wont to.
Centuries passed, and there was something vaguely sad about the rock that was as old as it looked, standing weathered and lonely amidst the stretch of sand. And as it listened to the waves, it thought of the sun on its surface, and the bird-shaped shadow that fell just so across the warmth, warmer than the sun itself.
I find it rather meaningful, so I'm sharing it with you here, enjoy.
'I am your friend now, rock...'
by Chew Chia Shao Wei, Raffles Girls' School
THERE was something vaguely sad about the rock. It was as old as it looked, standing weathered and lonely amidst the stretch of sand, and its thoughts were quiet as it listened to the waves.
The wide unconquerable sea touched the edges of the land like a curious animal in the way it rolled forward eagerly onto the shore. It left the land unwillingly, pulling as it went, grasping for what it could. The sand in the shallow water swirled.
The sea was no stranger to the rock on the beach. The sea came often to the rock, rushing up wetly against its warm grey, and always as it swept away it took an infinitesimal part of the rock with it. The rock had known the waves for a long time, and learned it was in its nature to erode.
One day, the sunlight on the rock was interrupted by a brief darkness in the blurred shape of a bird. The rock, interested, observed the bird winging its way uncertainly about the sky, then landing, presently, on the very rock that wondered about it.
'Where am I?' said the bird, largely to itself, as it gripped the surface of the dark grey rock with its feet and peered out at the sea.
'What are you?' countered the rock.
'I am a bird,' said the bird in surprise.
'You are a rather rude sort of bird,' the rock pointed out calmly. 'I was enjoying the sun when you came and blocked some of it from me.'
Birds exist for a very short while in comparison to rocks, and have less time to develop the exceptional serenity that rocks possess. The bird hopped from one foot to another, flapping its white wings in annoyance.
'You are a big, stupid rock!' the bird cried, its beak clicking irately. 'Funny you should feel so important, when one of these days you will have been reduced by the sea to a tiny grain of sand!'
'Yes,' agreed the rock, surprising the bird yet again, 'I shall feel rather sad when that day comes.'
'Wait, no - you are confusing me - we are in the middle of an argument!'
'I made a comment, and you responded rather explosively, after which I shared with you a private thought in concurrence with something you had said. That was not an argument at all.'
The bird paused mid-hop, disgruntled. 'Well, you are a very well-spoken rock,' it conceded, 'and not at all stupid; I'm sorry.'
The rock hummed peaceably in response and returned to its own thoughts. The bird, feeling wholly ignored, allowed itself to settle down on its newfound perch, and examined mentally the conversation that had just taken place.
Some time passed before the bird spoke again, hesitantly, as if now remembering its manners and unwilling to intrude upon the rock again.
'Rock, will you truly end up one day as nothing more than a grain of sand?'
'I expect so,' the rock rumbled. 'The sea works at me constantly, you know.'
'Is that awfully sad?' asked the passionate bird, who, while given to tempers, was intrinsically kind-hearted.
'Only to those who care,' the rock admitted, 'only to me.'
The bird was deeply moved by this, by the loneliness of the rock and the seeming inevitability of its fate. The bird considered the situation, and felt it must do something to aid the rock. Although their acquaintance had gotten off to a bad start, the bird found it rather liked the warm, rough rock, and was unwilling to leave it alone to the hunger of the sea.
'I care,' volunteered the bird, 'I will do something to help you, rock, if you will let me.'
'No,' said the rock, laughing in a way that did not mock the bird. 'Don't waste your time.'
But the bird had found a cause.
'I am your friend now, rock,' it said, and the rock was touched.
'You are just a bird,' the rock said, 'and you will be able to do nothing.'
The bird did not disagree. 'I will try.'
Over the next few days, the bird tried a variety of ways to get the rock out of harm's way. It started with simple pushing, which had proved futile, and progressed to increasingly creative ideas. On the eighth day, the bird had looped several lengths of seaweed around its friend, in the hopes of being able to pull it further up the shore.
The rock had never observed with much significance the passing of the days, and entire years blurred in its long memory, but this had been a week that would stand out forever. The frustration, the laughter, and the gratitude that the rock had experienced along with the bird would be preserved as colour images amidst a wash of sepia recollections.
The time had come, however, to begin to dissuade the bird of its altruistic notions, lest it exhaust itself with the efforts of the fruitless undertaking.
Bird was picking the rope of seaweed up in its mouth for the seventh time that day when the rock addressed it.
'I do thank you for your efforts,' it began, 'but I am beginning to feel that this was a hopeless enterprise. I know you have expended much energy over it, and it has not gone unappreciated, but perhaps we must stop here.'
The bird dropped the end of the seaweed and made to protest, but the rock would not allow it.
'You have been a faithful friend, but it seems that here I am and here I will remain. The sea works slowly, and I have much time left yet. One day, I will be sand on the beach, but the idea does not bother me so much now.'
The rock did not add that through getting to know the bird, it had realised exactly how much more ephemeral was the life of the bird, and begun to feel selfish for being unsatisfied with the idea of eventually ending up a small grain of sand.
'Let us abandon this pursuit, and instead look to happier things,' the rock ended, hoping to mollify the bird. In truth, it was unsure that the bird, now robbed of his cause, would stick around for much longer, and the thought made it feel a shiver of unhappiness.
The bird, wordlessly, began the task of unwrapping the seaweed it had covered the rock in. There was resignation in its wingtips. When it had finished, it glanced at the rock with which it had spent eight sun-drenched days, then flapped slowly into the distant sky.
The rock watched it go.
The beach was blanketed by night when the rock once again felt the feet of the bird sharp against its surface.
'I am sticking around,' the bird told the rock, 'so you won't forget me, even when you are just a grain of sand.'
The rock said nothing, but it was happy.
The years moved on, then, like they always had. The rock stayed in the same place even as the world changed around the little beach, and the bird, going off frequently on expeditions to see the world, returned always to the rock it had met so long ago.
'Tell me a story,' the rock asked the bird once, as it landed lightly.
'But you are so old and wise, no story would interest you,' teased the bird. It was older now, and it knew ever so much more about the world.
The rock chuckled, and the bird complied. 'I will tell you about the strange things I saw the last time I flew past these cliffs...'
Sometimes, it was the bird that asked for the story.
'The earth was young once,' the rock would begin, in a vivid story of the colours of the wind.
And always, imperceptibly, the years moved on - like they always had.
One morning, a long, long time from the day the bird and the rock had first met, the rock was abruptly aware of a different quality to the day. There was something in the air, maybe, or something about the sea, or the sand - the rock was uncertain, but something was different and wrong. The colours felt wrong, for instance, the sky felt green and the sand was turning white, and the sea when it touched the rock felt hot and cold and hot again.
'Bird...'
That was a strange thing for the rock to do, for it never spoke aloud when it was alone. But it called out anyway, tentatively, 'Bird... Bird...'
The word was snatched away by the wind, but it seemed to echo in the dark beach. The rock was very still, and began to feel something it had never before felt: fear. It spread slowly and coldly like the pink sun rising softly over the horizon, and the rock found that it knew that its friend the bird had died.
'How and why,' the rock murmured numbly to itself, to the sand, to the sea. 'How and why and how and why and why. Goodbye, goodbye, oh, goodbye.' So saying, it slipped gently asleep.
The bird never returned, just as the rock never again expected it to. The rock became silent once more, unused to conversation as it had once been. Its thoughts were numerous but never aired now, and frequently, it thought of its dearest friend, the bird.
As for the years, they moved on like they always had, and the world changed around the rock, just like the world was wont to.
Centuries passed, and there was something vaguely sad about the rock that was as old as it looked, standing weathered and lonely amidst the stretch of sand. And as it listened to the waves, it thought of the sun on its surface, and the bird-shaped shadow that fell just so across the warmth, warmer than the sun itself.
what this is about
contentment,
Destiny,
inspiration,
life,
love,
philosophy,
purpose,
wisdom
Friday, 11 September 2009
On Love
by Thomas Heng
Love + Loss = Grief
Love + Desire = Lust
Love + Reason = Vanity
Love + Hate = Philosophy
Love + Control = Obsession
Love + Laughter = Euphoria
Love + Longing = Attachment
Love + Words = Law
Love + Action = Justice
Love + Action + Words = Romance
Love + Loss + Desire + Reason + Control + Laughter + Longing + Words + Action = the approximate of the Entirety of the Human Experience
Love diminishes when added to other forms of human expression.
Love simply Is, without compare, for Love originates from that which is Divine.
Oh! for the Infinite Love that transcends all human understanding,
Yet that is the Eternal Legacy embedded within every single soul of Humanity.
what this is about
contentment,
faith,
inspiration,
life,
love,
philosophy,
wisdom
Thursday, 3 September 2009
On Respect
by Thomas Heng
Realise that while each of us is different, we are altogether not that much different after all
Edify one another through each simple thought, word and deed
Strengthen one another in times of trial, even in the midst of one's own
Place one's emphasis on the other, rather than the self
Encourage one another to share the deepest of emotions through revealing one's own
Clarify one's thoughts through discussions of candour
Thank one another for the audience granted, the support rendered, and the time shared
Realise that while each of us is different, we are altogether not that much different after all
Edify one another through each simple thought, word and deed
Strengthen one another in times of trial, even in the midst of one's own
Place one's emphasis on the other, rather than the self
Encourage one another to share the deepest of emotions through revealing one's own
Clarify one's thoughts through discussions of candour
Thank one another for the audience granted, the support rendered, and the time shared
what this is about
affirmations,
communication,
discussion groups,
inspiration,
life,
philosophy
Thursday, 20 August 2009
Prayer for Discernment
Heavenly Father,
Help me to discern
The Thing Behind the thingsThe Meaning Behind the words
The Evidence Behind the actions
I ask this in the Name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit,
Amen.
Monday, 10 August 2009
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