In the words of the late, honorable Martin Luther King, Jr. :
“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
“There comes a time when silence is betrayal.”“Never, never be afraid to do what’s right, especially if the well-being of a person or animal is at stake. Society’s punishments are small compared to the wounds we inflict on our soul when we look the other way.”
As I say each year, on this day, the 8th of January:
“For those of you who have been following, reading and enjoying each of my seven New Year revelations …. Thank You.
I would like to point out that they are not New Year Resolutions. I don’t make New Year Resolutions anymore. They are my own personal revelations. Epiphanies. Discoveries. In the past decade, I’ve faced some daunting challenges and heart-wrenching events. I’d like to think that I’ve handled them with dignity, compassion, grace, and humor. Always humor. It helps take the edge off.
So, the lessons that these “life tests” have taught me are my “revelations.” As I move forward with my life, I will use them as my guide. Wisdom has to be earned. For me, it’s an ongoing journey, as I’m sure it is for all of you, as well.”
Here’s a synopsis (the numbers have a hyperlink back to each revelation post):
New Year’s Revelation No. 1: Today is Tomorrow
New Year’s Revelation No. 2: Humility is attractive, and Arrogance… not so much
New Year’s Revelation No. 3: Stand by what you say and what you do
New Year’s Revelation No. 4: Be comfortable in your own skin
New Year’s Revelation No. 5: Freedom from Fear
New Year’s Revelation No. 6: Respect Human Dignity… through Kindness
New Year’s Revelation No. 7: Love Thy Neighbor, it’s that simple
And on it goes.
I’m looking forward to whatever 2014 has in store for me.
I wish you all a blessed, healthy and happy 2014 and may your own personal journey bring you deep fulfillment and wisdom… and loads of wonderful opportunity and adventures!
Cheers,
heatherfromthegrove
“Ultimately we know deeply that the other side of every fear is freedom.”
— Marilyn Ferguson
In her insightful blog, Cauldrons and Cupcakes, Nicole Cody recently wrote a post titled “What’s Your Power Word for 2014?” She explains that she ditched the whole New Year resolution thing, and replaced it with a more streamlined system: one single Power Word. This Power Word is at the center of all her intentions for the year.
My Power Word for 2014 is Freedom.
And this is only just the icing on my cake of intentions for 2014.
But today’s Revelation is about Freedom from fear.
Most of us have fears. We have phobias, like the fear of flying, public speaking, bees, rejection … the list goes on. Some fears may seem silly but they are very real to the people who harbor these anxieties. Sometimes, they can be paralyzing.
When we overcome our fears, we feel lighter. That “lightness” is what freedom feels like.
When I was a child and teenager, I was rather shy (many who know me today, are raising an eyebrow as they read this). So, I decided to enroll in theatre classes, to overcome my shyness. Apparently, it worked. I haven’t stopped talking since.
Beware of hypotheticals.
Sometimes, we are anxious or fearful about what we imagine will happen. We’re not sure that what we imagine will happen, will actually happen… but we fear it nevertheless. This is a difficult one to overcome, but if we try to rationalize it by saying: Okay, what’s the worst that could happen?… then think about it. Live with the idea for a bit. If the worst actually happens, then it’s over and done with. The sun will still come up the next day. Life goes on. And so will we.
As Eleanor Roosevelt once said, “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you stop to look fear in the face.“
Courage, mes amis. Courage, my friends.
We shall be free of fear.
“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”
Photos via ssy.org and thewisemag.com.
All that rest and relaxation did me a world of good… gave me some perspective.
I’ll start the week with a quote from the founder of Buddhism.
“The whole secret of existence is to have no fear.
Never fear what will become of you.
Depend on no one.
Only the moment you reject all help, are you freed.”
— Hindu Prince Gautauma Siddhartha (Founder of Buddhism, 563-483 BC)
Whether real or imagined, fear is what keeps us from making rational decisions. When we shed our fears, we break free from the emotional and psychological shackles that keep us from doing what we need to do… from being who we need to be.
I have actually made this my own personal mantra.
I am reposting this blog because it seems to have struck a chord with people from across the globe − with thousands of views.
In the first sentence (below), I mentioned that three uniquely brilliant people came into my life in the mid-1970s. What I did not say then was how they came into my life. Many of us have someone in our lives who we look up to and who holds an extra special place in our hearts. A mentor, a teacher, or a family member. In my case, it was all three rolled into one — my brother. Six years my senior, he took me under his wing many, many times. He introduced me to jazz music, specifically Thelonious Monk and I still have the tapes he gave me (back in the day when we listened to tape cassettes!) well over three decades ago. Then he gave me two book recommendations for my “must read” list: The Prophet, by Khalil Gibran and Atlas Shrugged, by Ayn Rand. I read them and I was not disappointed.
So, that’s how these visionaries were introduced to me.
And now, here’s the blog once again:
(originally posted by heatherfromthegrove on October 21st, 2011)
In the mid-1970’s, three uniquely brilliant people came into my life.
The first was American jazz pianist and composer, Thelonious Monk (b.1917 – d.1982). His improvisational style set him apart from the traditional jazz musicians of the time. In the 1940’s, the music genre known as jazz was experiencing a cultural revolution of sorts, with Thelonious Monk as its revolutionary leader. A new style of jazz — be-bop — was born. Considered jazz for intellectuals, the be-bop sound was all about intricate melodies, complex harmonies – and fast tempos. Thelonious Monk once said: “If you really understand the meaning of be-bop, you understand the meaning of freedom.”
Freedom – in my opinion – is the most beautiful word in the dictionary. The meaning and experience of freedom is unique to each and every one of us. What tastes like freedom to me may be radically different than anyone else. Some savour it as a private, spiritual experience, while others view freedom on a global scale. There is no right or wrong answer. It is in the eye of the beholder.
I love to listen to the discordant sounds of Thelonious Monk. I never met the man. Nevertheless, I owe him a debt of gratitude because when I listen to improvisational jazz, I feel free – and vibrantly alive.
The second visionary genius was the Lebanese-American poet, philosopher, and artist – Khalil Gibran (b.1883 – d.1931). His works (The Prophet became an iconic favorite) were notably influential in American popular culture during the tumultuous 1960’s. On the subject of Freedom, Khalil Gibran’s eloquent poetry always strikes a chord with me –regardless of the number of times I read and reread his words:
“…Verily all things move within your being in constant half embrace, the desired and the dreaded, the repugnant and the cherished, the pursued and that which you would escape.
These things move within you as lights and shadows in pairs that cling. And when the shadow fades and is no more, the light that lingers becomes a shadow to another light. And thus your freedom when it loses its fetters becomes itself the fetter of a greater freedom.”
Finally, there is my muse. Her name, Ayn Rand. Ayn is pronounced “Ein” (which means “one” in German). In my study, there are at least three long bookshelves devoted to Ayn Rand (her novels, essays, philosophical treatises, biographies, and virtually everything I could find that has been written about her). If I ever choose to go back to do my PhD in Philosophy, the subject of my dissertation would most definitely be Ayn Rand.
Born in St. Petersburg, Russia in 1905, Ayn witnessed the Bolshevik Revolution firsthand and despised the collectivism that was so entrenched in Russian culture at the time. Her family lost everything in Communist Russia and this intelligent student of philosophy and history decided that the American model of freedom was the path she wanted to pursue. In 1926, she went to visit relatives in Chicago, then traveled to Hollywood … and never looked back. Her first novel, We the Living (1936), was inspired by her earlier exposure to Russian tyranny. In her novels, Ayn understood that in order to create the wonderfully heroic fictional characters, she would have to articulate the philosophical principles which – in her view – made these characters truly heroic. As such, her novels were interwoven with politics, philosophy, economics, metaphysics, ethics and epistemology. And sex. In 1957, her last work of fiction – Atlas Shrugged – was considered her greatest achievement.
However, my personal favorite of hers is The Fountainhead (1943). It was the masterpiece that solidified Ayn Rand as the champion of Individualism. And this is why I am so inspired by this brilliant intellectual who, incidentally, died in 1982.
For me, individualism is freedom. It’s at the core of everything I believe in. Individual thought, choice, and actions. Our journey into this world is a singular experience. As is our journey out of this world. And our lives are made up of a series of individual choices, reactions and experiences that we (and no one else) are accountable for. For every action, there is a reaction. For every choice we make, there is a consequence. Good and bad. (preferably more good , than bad!).
I know, these are pretty heavy thoughts on a Friday evening. So, I’ll leave you with some words that resonate deeply with me. In The Fountainhead, the hero – architect Howard Roark – passionately explains the essence of individualism:
“… Man cannot survive except through his mind. He comes on earth unarmed. His brain is his only weapon. Animals obtain food by force. Man has no claws, no fangs, no horns, no great strength of muscle. He must plant his food or hunt it. To plant, he needs a process of thought. To hunt, he needs weapons, and to make weapons—a process of thought. From this simplest necessity to the highest religious abstraction, from the wheel to the skyscraper, everything we are and everything we have comes from a single attribute of man—the function of his reasoning mind.
But the mind is an attribute of the individual. There is no such thing as a collective brain. There is no such thing as a collective thought. An agreement reached by a group of men is only a compromise or an average drawn upon many individual thoughts. It is a secondary consequence. The primary act—the process of reason—must be performed by each man alone. We can divide a meal among many men. We cannot digest it in a collective stomach. No man can use his lungs to breathe for another man. No man can use his brain to think for another. All the functions of body and spirit are private. They cannot be shared or transferred…”
I’ve given you just a snippet of this courtroom speech. It is riveting and worth reading in its entirety.
Here’s to Freedom!
Cheers,
hftg
Images via care2.com, karabess.wordpress.com, wikipedia.org, and civilclothing.com.
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
(January 15, 1929 – April 4, 1968)
Today, our nation honors the memory of a man who inspired generations of men and women ― young and old, black and white, and across every creed. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. ― clergyman, activist and leader in the American civil rights movement ― received the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964, at the age of 35 (the youngest man to ever have received a Nobel Peace Prize). When notified that he was selected for this honor, he stated that he would donate the prize money ($54,123) to further the cause of the civil rights movement.
He was assassinated by a sniper’s bullet on April 4, 1968, in Memphis (Tennessee), as he addressed crowds of people from his hotel balcony.
He was not only a man of wise and thought-provoking words, but a man of action. He acted on his beliefs and the words he spoke came from his soul. His name is on my own personal roster of people who have truly inspired me. Aside from his famous I Have A Dream speech (quoted in its entirety, at the end of this post), I wanted to share some of his thoughts on what, in my view, are four of the most powerful words to live by: Compassion. Forgiveness. Freedom. Hope.
On Compassion:
“Life’s most persistent and urgent question is, What are you doing for others?”
On Forgiveness:
“We must develop and maintain the capacity to forgive. He who is devoid of the power to forgive is devoid of the power to love. There is some good in the worst of us and some evil in the best of us. When we discover this, we are less prone to hate our enemies.”
On Freedom:
“Freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed.“
— “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” April 16, 1963
On Hope:
“The hope of a secure and livable world lies with disciplined nonconformists who are dedicated to justice, peace and brotherhood.“
♦
“If you lose hope, somehow you lose the vitality that keeps life moving, you lose that courage to be, that quality that helps you go on in spite of it all. And so today I still have a dream.“
♦♦♦♦♦♦♦
I Have A Dream:
(August 28, 1963)
“I am happy to join with you today in what will go down in history as the greatest demonstration for freedom in the history of our nation.
Five score years ago, a great American, in whose symbolic shadow we stand today, signed the Emancipation Proclamation. This momentous decree came as a great beacon light of hope to millions of Negro slaves who had been seared in the flames of withering injustice. It came as a joyous daybreak to end the long night of their captivity.
But one hundred years later, the Negro still is not free. One hundred years later, the life of the Negro is still sadly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination. One hundred years later, the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity. One hundred years later, the Negro is still languishing in the corners of American society and finds himself an exile in his own land. So we have come here today to dramatize a shameful condition.
In a sense we have come to our nation’s capital to cash a check. When the architects of our republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir. This note was a promise that all men, yes, black men as well as white men, would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.
It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned. Instead of honoring this sacred obligation, America has given the Negro people a bad check, a check which has come back marked “insufficient funds.” But we refuse to believe that the bank of justice is bankrupt. We refuse to believe that there are insufficient funds in the great vaults of opportunity of this nation. So we have come to cash this check — a check that will give us upon demand the riches of freedom and the security of justice. We have also come to this hallowed spot to remind America of the fierce urgency of now. This is no time to engage in the luxury of cooling off or to take the tranquilizing drug of gradualism. Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy. Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice. Now is the time to lift our nation from the quick sands of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood. Now is the time to make justice a reality for all of God’s children.
It would be fatal for the nation to overlook the urgency of the moment. This sweltering summer of the Negro’s legitimate discontent will not pass until there is an invigorating autumn of freedom and equality. Nineteen sixty-three is not an end, but a beginning. Those who hope that the Negro needed to blow off steam and will now be content will have a rude awakening if the nation returns to business as usual. There will be neither rest nor tranquility in America until the Negro is granted his citizenship rights. The whirlwinds of revolt will continue to shake the foundations of our nation until the bright day of justice emerges.
But there is something that I must say to my people who stand on the warm threshold which leads into the palace of justice. In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline. We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence. Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force. The marvelous new militancy which has engulfed the Negro community must not lead us to a distrust of all white people, for many of our white brothers, as evidenced by their presence here today, have come to realize that their destiny is tied up with our destiny. They have come to realize that their freedom is inextricably bound to our freedom. We cannot walk alone.
As we walk, we must make the pledge that we shall always march ahead. We cannot turn back. There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?” We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality. We can never be satisfied, as long as our bodies, heavy with the fatigue of travel, cannot gain lodging in the motels of the highways and the hotels of the cities. We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro’s basic mobility is from a smaller ghetto to a larger one. We can never be satisfied as long as our children are stripped of their selfhood and robbed of their dignity by signs stating “For Whites Only”. We cannot be satisfied as long as a Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and a Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote. No, no, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.
I am not unmindful that some of you have come here out of great trials and tribulations. Some of you have come fresh from narrow jail cells. Some of you have come from areas where your quest for freedom left you battered by the storms of persecution and staggered by the winds of police brutality. You have been the veterans of creative suffering. Continue to work with the faith that unearned suffering is redemptive.
Go back to Mississippi, go back to Alabama, go back to South Carolina, go back to Georgia, go back to Louisiana, go back to the slums and ghettos of our northern cities, knowing that somehow this situation can and will be changed. Let us not wallow in the valley of despair.
I say to you today, my friends, so even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream. It is a dream deeply rooted in the American dream.
I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up and live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident: that all men are created equal.”
I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia the sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.
I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.
I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day, down in Alabama, with its vicious racists, with its governor having his lips dripping with the words of interposition and nullification; one day right there in Alabama, little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.
I have a dream today.
I have a dream that one day every valley shall be exalted, every hill and mountain shall be made low, the rough places will be made plain, and the crooked places will be made straight, and the glory of the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.
This is our hope. This is the faith that I go back to the South with. With this faith we will be able to hew out of the mountain of despair a stone of hope. With this faith we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our nation into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. With this faith we will be able to work together, to pray together, to struggle together, to go to jail together, to stand up for freedom together, knowing that we will be free one day.
This will be the day when all of God’s children will be able to sing with a new meaning, “My country, ’tis of thee, sweet land of liberty, of thee I sing. Land where my fathers died, land of the pilgrim’s pride, from every mountainside, let freedom ring.”
And if America is to be a great nation this must become true. So let freedom ring from the prodigious hilltops of New Hampshire. Let freedom ring from the mighty mountains of New York. Let freedom ring from the heightening Alleghenies of Pennsylvania!
Let freedom ring from the snow-capped Rockies of Colorado!
Let freedom ring from the curvaceous slopes of California!
But not only that; let freedom ring from Stone Mountain of Georgia!
Let freedom ring from Lookout Mountain of Tennessee!
Let freedom ring from every hill and molehill of Mississippi. From every mountainside, let freedom ring.
And when this happens, when we allow freedom to ring, when we let it ring from every village and every hamlet, from every state and every city, we will be able to speed up that day when all of God’s children, black men and white men, Jews and Gentiles, Protestants and Catholics, will be able to join hands and sing in the words of the old Negro spiritual, ‘Free at last! free at last! thank God Almighty, we are free at last!'”
“When an American says that he loves his country, he means not only that he loves the New England hills, the prairies glistening in the sun, the wide and rising plains, the great mountains, and the sea. He means that he loves an inner air, an inner light in which freedom lives and in which a man can draw the breath of self-respect. “
~ Adlai Stevenson (1900 – 1965), American Politician and Diplomat
Today (November 11) is Veterans Day, here in America. It is a day when we pause to honor the brave men and women who serve in uniform, who fought and continue to fight so that we can all enjoy that wonderful privilege — Freedom.
It is an opportunity for us to thank the veterans who stormed the beaches during World War II, the men and women who served tour after tour in distant lands such as Vietnam, Iraq, and Afghanistan — and all the battles before, after and in between.
Their bravery has not gone unnoticed. Today — and always — we salute them.
“I am a Canadian, free to speak without fear, free to worship in my own way, free to stand for what I think right, free to oppose what I believe wrong, or free to choose those who shall govern my country. This heritage of freedom I pledge to uphold for myself and all mankind.”
~ John Diefenbaker (1895 – 1979), 13th Prime Minister of Canada
Remembrance Day is to the commonwealth countries (such as Canada, the United Kingdom, Malta, Australia and New Zealand, to mention but a few) what Memorial Day is to the United States. It is observed each year, on November 11 — in commemoration of the day when World War I ended.
The most famous Remembrance Day poem, In Flanders Fields, was written by Canadian John McCrae on May 3, 1915, the day after he saw his friend (Lieutenant Alexis Helmer) die. A doctor, poet and WWI soldier, Lieutenant Colonel McCrae tended to the injured during the Second Battle of Ypres in the western part of Belgium.
Freedom. They fought for it. They died for it. And we savour this freedom (with gratitude) — because of them.
Lest we forget.
“20 years from now you will be disappointed by the things you didn’t do than by the one’s you did. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover” ~ Mark Twain
Many of us know what our passion is. Some call it “Purpose” or “Raison d’Être.” The seeds are — more often than not — planted in childhood. As we grow up, “Life” sometimes gets in the way. Correction. We let it get in the way …. it doesn’t get there by itself (remember, we are each authors of our own destiny). And, if we’re wise, we rediscover it. And when we do, the reunion is joyous. Like renewing old friendships … or … finally getting to meet (face-to-face) a family member that we’ve never had a chance to connect with.
And then there are some who never wavered, never let go of their passion. They made it their Life. They embraced their passion with every fibre of their being and, when they died, they died knowing that they had lived their Passion. These people are, sadly, few and far between. The late Lorena Gale, was one of those special ones.
Most of us juggle our day-to-day lives with our Passion. Half the time is spent at the “day job” (the one that brings home the bacon) and the other half is what we do when we go home …. namely, our Passion. For example, the wonderful 85 year-old music legend that is Tony Bennett obviously loves what he does for a living. But, his real passion is art. He is an artist …. as in, painting. When he is not singing on tour or in concert, he paints. Check out Benedetto Arts, on his site, and prepare to be amazed.
Many of my family members have a day job and, like Anthony Dominick Benedetto, go home and spend quality time doing what they really love to do. One cousin of mine (in Malta) has a passion for painting. He is an exceedingly talented artist. Another cousin (in Canada) is a brilliant – and I mean brilliant – photographer. In his own words, “It’s what I love to do.”
It’s as simple as that. Do what you love to do and you will live a happy life. People will be drawn to you. It’s the law of attraction. You send out positive energy and you receive it back …. in spades.
I’ve always been a Writer. But, like many, I have always had “day jobs.” I was a marketing communications professional for about 25 years. The first five years were in junior and mid-management, the next 5 in senior management, and the following 15 as a consultant.
And then, one day (in the autumn of 2009) I woke up and realized that I had just turned 50. I decided, then and there, that I would — as Mark Twain suggested — “sail away from the safe harbor.”
Fyi …. I can’t swim (well, I can tread water).
So, I decided to follow my passion — full-time. Of course, this meant that I would have to have a lifestyle adjustment. There would be no Louis Vuitton luggage in my immediate future. It meant I would have to forego Macallan 25 for Macallan 12. Scotch, that is. 12 year-old versus the rich-yet-smooth 25 year-old scotch. Oh woe is me.
Ahhhhh, the sacrifices I would have to make!
And, the reward for all this? Here’s the thing. When we follow our bliss, we shouldn’t focus on quantifying it. The reward is not necessarily monetary (although, that certainly doesn’t hurt!). The reward is happiness, serenity, and knowledge. As we seek to master our craft — whatever that craft may be — we acquire knowledge. With that knowledge, comes wisdom.
I can truly say — without reservation — that I am the happiest I have ever been. I live simply. I love deeply. And I write.
May you all find your passion (if you haven’t already done so), and may it bring you great joy — always and forever.
Cheers,
h.f.t.g.
Image via womenonthefence.com.
I have a confession to make. I do not understand people who have absolutely no appreciation of nature. I cannot even fathom staying in the house — all the time — watching television, surfing the internet for hours on end, or — worse — playing games on the computer while the clock ticks and night becomes day. What a waste. Of time, that is. And, even more importantly, it can’t be good for you.
But that’s just my opinion.
One of the greatest elements that we seem to take for granted is …. Oxygen. I’ve always been somewhat claustrophobic, so I appreciate the open air. I equate it with Freedom. When I lived in Montréal (my birthplace), I would open up windows in the middle of winter. Just to breathe in that crisp, cold air. It made me feel alive. Taking a late night walk in the crunchy snow, with my nostrils tingling with cold …. is — for me — simply exhilarating.
Now, I live in a tropical climate and I open the windows to hear the rustle of my bamboo and palm trees and the sound of frogs and parrots. For me, there is nothing — and I mean, nothing — more delightful than smelling the salt air of the ocean and the jasmine … it’s euphoric. As for the sound of the waves and the tide …. for me, that is my idea of Heaven on earth.
Nature is something that we sometimes take for granted. Humor me. Open up all the windows in your house or apartment. Breathe in some fresh air. Appreciate the outdoors and welcome it into your home. You’ll feel lighter, happier and refreshed (okay, those of you living in the colder climates may need to wear a sweater!!) .
Just breathe. Oxygen is good for you.
Image via andrewsullivanthedailybeast.com.
heatherfromthegrove 