I have never been called "beautiful," so that word has always held for me a foundation of non-attainability, and therefore, mystery. What makes something--or someone--full of beauty?
The great and powerful Sophia Loren once said, "True beauty is a mirage." True beauty? What IS that, anyway? In your mind, what is "true beauty?"
Myself, I am awed by things of beauty, no matter what--or who--they might be (Idris Elba.sunsets...butterflies...puppies...cannolis).
This week, I would like you to muse with me about this concept.
Over time, across cultures, the mystery of beauty has both vexed and captivated all walks of life. The animal kingdom even has its own notion of what makes them attractive—peacocks fluff their plumage, ducks wiggle their butts, all in the name of beauty. They do it to attract mates--is that why we do?
Do we chase beauty? Do we worship it? Are beautiful people treated differently that those considered less so?
Men and women have been frustrated and fascinated by beauty, have been rendered powerless in their attempts to capture it, bottle it, enhance it, ignore it, use it and celebrate it. WHY??
Why do you think human beings are so enthralled with the idea of trying to capture "beauty?" (this is kinda the same question as the one earlier, but as you can see, I feel strongly about this.)
Why? Its importance and its role in our lives will be the subject of this blog discussion, and I would like you to seriously consider what your definition of “true beauty” is.
Why is beauty the object of both admiration and envy?
Why does the pursuit of beauty bring us pain as well as pleasure?
Consider both sexes when you ask yourself these questions—think about the pursuit, the pain, the pleasure from all angles.
Do you see yourself as beautiful?
How do you measure it?
Who is the most beautiful person you know?
Why?
Monday, January 28, 2019
Monday, January 14, 2019
Lao Tzu Says: A Journey of a Thousand Miles Begins with a Single Step
Many of you already know the concept of the hero's journey; that is, the idea that all literature--and for that matter, all of life in general--follows that pattern of the journey.
There is "the call," which is, ostensibly, the beginning of the journey--the reason you start in the first place;
there is the threshold--literally, crossing over from the "known" into the "unknown" (literally or figuratively);
the "challenges or trials," a.k.a. life's little problems, big problems, annoyances, tragedies or inconveniences--in literature--dragons to be slain;
"the abyss"--when you think the whole world is against you and nothing will ever be right again.
Once you get past all of that you move on to "the transformation," or in other words, the "What have you learned, Dorothy?" moment--that moment when all of the suffering and the waiting finally give way to acceptance or riches;
"the atonement"--how have you made peace with what you've learned or become (nobody is ever the same after a journey--the trick is to figure out why and how you changed)
and finally, "the return" (with a gift), where you come back to the only place you've ever known a changed person with a host of knowledge/skills or wealth to aid in all future endeavors.
Basically, all of literature revolves around some schematic of this journey, and if you think about it, all of your lives do too.
Especially at this stage of your high school careers. Some of you have lived lives and seen things you never should have, never wanted to or never thought you would, for better or worse. All of you have been through problems and overcome obstacles and persevered.
My question this week is--how? Your answer is to trace the various moments of your life that you consider a journey--physical, spiritual, emotional, mental--whatever.
How did you do it?
What type of mental, spiritual, physical, or intestinal fortitude did you need to have in order to emerge victorious from your journey?
What was the journey?
Did you embark upon it willingly or were you pushed?
What did you learn? Did it change you? For the better? Or worse?
Did you have help, or "guardians" as they say in Journey jargon?
Tell me about it.
There is "the call," which is, ostensibly, the beginning of the journey--the reason you start in the first place;
there is the threshold--literally, crossing over from the "known" into the "unknown" (literally or figuratively);
the "challenges or trials," a.k.a. life's little problems, big problems, annoyances, tragedies or inconveniences--in literature--dragons to be slain;
"the abyss"--when you think the whole world is against you and nothing will ever be right again.
Once you get past all of that you move on to "the transformation," or in other words, the "What have you learned, Dorothy?" moment--that moment when all of the suffering and the waiting finally give way to acceptance or riches;
"the atonement"--how have you made peace with what you've learned or become (nobody is ever the same after a journey--the trick is to figure out why and how you changed)
and finally, "the return" (with a gift), where you come back to the only place you've ever known a changed person with a host of knowledge/skills or wealth to aid in all future endeavors.
Basically, all of literature revolves around some schematic of this journey, and if you think about it, all of your lives do too.
Especially at this stage of your high school careers. Some of you have lived lives and seen things you never should have, never wanted to or never thought you would, for better or worse. All of you have been through problems and overcome obstacles and persevered.
My question this week is--how? Your answer is to trace the various moments of your life that you consider a journey--physical, spiritual, emotional, mental--whatever.
How did you do it?
What type of mental, spiritual, physical, or intestinal fortitude did you need to have in order to emerge victorious from your journey?
What was the journey?
Did you embark upon it willingly or were you pushed?
What did you learn? Did it change you? For the better? Or worse?
Did you have help, or "guardians" as they say in Journey jargon?
Tell me about it.
Monday, January 7, 2019
Tabula Rasa
Whew. So, it's over. 2018--the year of...well, there are really too many adjectives, verbs and hyperbolic phrases that could be inserted there, so that's where I think we should start.
I am a huge fan of moving forward--I don't even like to put my car in reverse if I can help it--true story--but I also recognize the value of taking a backward glance from time to time. I mean, how else can you see:
1) how far you've gone
2) how much you've left to go
3) where the twists, turns and pot holes in the roads were
Now, for me, of all of those, #3 means the most. Like I said, I am a fan of moving forward, but most of the time, the natural enemy to forward thinking or really any kind of positive progression, is repetition. The repetition of a mistake is the most obvious deterrant to progression because it usually means going backward, but even repeating things that worked out for you can be detrimental to progress because it could mean that you are comfortable and not taking any more risks, and then, consequently, you can't "really" progress. Personally, I like to see where things went bananas for me, or where I made a wrong turn, or how taking the shortcut would've helped me had I only listened to someone else.
So, usually right around now, I allow me the time I need to take stock of my personal and professional situations.
I should do this more often than just the start of a new year, I know this, but something about the symbolism of starting at 1 just speaks to me, so here I am.
What I noticed I did way too much last year was to let things that were either out of my control, or not really fixable in the first place, define who I was. As a result, I spent too much of 2018 feeling like a colossal failure. Thus, for 2019, I have decided to form BOTH an interpretation and a life plan from something I read by accident over break.
It was a quote from a long-dead German author named Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (that G name is actually pronounced "Gert-A), and it states:
"Things that matter most should never be at the mercy of things that matter least."
I am trying to find a sign that says that, but so far, no luck.
Now, its your turn.
First--I want you to fill in that sentence I started at the beginning: "2018--the year of ____________". Explain your choice.
Second, of the three reasons I listed for why looking back is good, which one do you see the most value in and why? Explain in detail.
Finally, moving forward in whatever area of life you want to focus on, how would you like to proceed that is AT LEAST marginally different then whatever you did last year?
I am a huge fan of moving forward--I don't even like to put my car in reverse if I can help it--true story--but I also recognize the value of taking a backward glance from time to time. I mean, how else can you see:
1) how far you've gone
2) how much you've left to go
3) where the twists, turns and pot holes in the roads were
Now, for me, of all of those, #3 means the most. Like I said, I am a fan of moving forward, but most of the time, the natural enemy to forward thinking or really any kind of positive progression, is repetition. The repetition of a mistake is the most obvious deterrant to progression because it usually means going backward, but even repeating things that worked out for you can be detrimental to progress because it could mean that you are comfortable and not taking any more risks, and then, consequently, you can't "really" progress. Personally, I like to see where things went bananas for me, or where I made a wrong turn, or how taking the shortcut would've helped me had I only listened to someone else.
So, usually right around now, I allow me the time I need to take stock of my personal and professional situations.
I should do this more often than just the start of a new year, I know this, but something about the symbolism of starting at 1 just speaks to me, so here I am.
What I noticed I did way too much last year was to let things that were either out of my control, or not really fixable in the first place, define who I was. As a result, I spent too much of 2018 feeling like a colossal failure. Thus, for 2019, I have decided to form BOTH an interpretation and a life plan from something I read by accident over break.
It was a quote from a long-dead German author named Johann Wolfgang von Goethe (that G name is actually pronounced "Gert-A), and it states:
"Things that matter most should never be at the mercy of things that matter least."
I am trying to find a sign that says that, but so far, no luck.
Now, its your turn.
First--I want you to fill in that sentence I started at the beginning: "2018--the year of ____________". Explain your choice.
Second, of the three reasons I listed for why looking back is good, which one do you see the most value in and why? Explain in detail.
Finally, moving forward in whatever area of life you want to focus on, how would you like to proceed that is AT LEAST marginally different then whatever you did last year?
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