Thoughtfortoday –  18 September 

 

 We don’t own our shadows 

– at least not in the way we own our reflections. 

We don’t control everything. 

ThoughtForToday – 23 September

Reading tea leaves

Analysing everything

Dissecting calculations

Measuring the hell out of stuff

is one way of driving your self mad

Another is

trust your intuition

Be mindful of You

  

Increasingly,

we are urged to ‘live in the moment’.

‘Mindfully be’.

 But who is ‘being’?

Who are you now? 

What’s the story of You?

The being of You?

I promise

I promise

I will always act in what I consider to be your best interest

I will keep my promises to you

I will respect confidences you place in me

I will speak positively about you to others

I will strive not to embarrass you in public

I will alert you or seek your permission before publishing something about you

I’ll go on promising until the day after I die.

I promise I’ll be without promise from that day on.

You see I was once promising:

I had a promising future my mother said

About Paul O’Mahony @omaniblog

This is where I’ll put a short personal introduction  

ChangeAgents - The 2nd Year
My right hand
– which my daughter Grace might like to read in 20 years.

What should I say?

On Periscope  (bio):

I scope very often. Engage with humans. Playful, Poet, Storyteller, Friendly, Foodie, Gentle, Generous – Podcaster – Copywriter – http://www.paulhomahony.com  

On Twitter (bio)

Business storytelling consultant – Podcaster – Poet – Servant – On @Periscopeco – Foodie – naturally ambitious + love to share my contacts.

In Which I Learn Why There Are No Great Women Composers

This is a “Guest Post”. I simply found it & decided to share it here because I found the controversy educating me. (That doesn’t mean I agree with views expressed by the author.)

I didn’t seek permission to re-publish. Trust “song of the lark” owner won’t object.

_________________

Lots of people have hobbies like knitting, jogging, or stamp collecting. Because I am the nerdiest nerd to ever nerd, the closest thing I have to a hobby is learning about the history of women in music. It’s a topic that doesn’t get as much press as the old chestnuts like “classical music is dying” or “Stradivari’s secret […]

http://songofthelarkblog.com/2015/09/16/in-which-i-learn-why-there-are-no-great-women-composers/

Thoughtfortoday  – 21 September 

If there’s only one thing you’ll let me advise you do this week …

Explore your horizons

– they may be wider than you assume.

Scott Torrance in Cork 

  

Originally,
we met thanks to people on Periscope – the live streaming App.  

Scott was sitting on Dublin grass in the Phoenix Park. Drawing the obelix from Egypt that celebrates the military victories of Wellington.

I kept my eye on him.  Every mark he made on paper – every single line. He was too good to ignore, too attractive.

Scott shuffled himself comfortable under the shade of a tree that might have been planted specially for him. 

I heard him offer his drawing to anyone who wanted it. Anyone tuned in live to his “scope”.

The polite thing would have been to wait. 

I said to myself in Cork:

 “Me me me – I want that drawing – it’ll never happen again, boy”

So I whispered – in my loudest internet voice 

“I’ll have it please. May I have it?”

The rest is history… 

(Buy the authorised biography of Scott from Scotland, when it’s published. 45% reduction on published price – only through this site) 

Who wrote this limerick? 

I found it in the Notes App on my iPhone – from 2013. Doubt I wrote it – I like it too much.

_________________
There once was the classic mother-in-law

Who considered she hadn’t a flaw

She knew all the answers

Crosswords and chancers

Until she found she had snot in her jaw

Thoughtfortoday 20 September 

  

It’s one thing to play the white notes – 

another thing to play black.

One thing to play the right hand –

another to play the left.

But collaborating 

takes you to 

symphony. 

Wanting more 

 

I’ve always been found 

wanting more than a woodpecker carves 

into the last tree 

in the last forest,

wanting more 

than my mother’s ever offered,

– even more than father bestowed 

on one of his good days. 

I was born wanting more time for love. 

I’ve grown hungrier by the day, 

thirstier by night, 

always grasping for clean air. 

There’s never been a father more loved,

ever since letters of infinity 

were strung together 

on a necklace 

that shines with promise

and gradually shrinks 

until it chokes 

the living daylight out of me. 

I’ve always wanted to beg. 

Like most beggers,  

my voice has been feeble 

– barely enough courage 

to pay the price father demanded. 

I’ve always been found 

wanting to trust more.

I’m used to starving. 

Bless me Father, 

for I have sinned 

on a daily basis. 

let me do penance 

– only let me have time to pay. 

Poem by Paul O’Mahony: “Life-saving anthem: I stand against the crowd

I stand

against the crowd

I stand out from the crowd

I am an individual

Odd

Different

Singular

Misfit

Awkward in my comfort

Edgy in my skin

Alive in my own little way

I live my say

I give the best shot I can

Every day.

I stand against the crowd

of wasters who fritter

their life away their way.

I waste my life my way

I fritter my days into

the oblivion I fashion

every step I say.

Because I am who am

Me

Condemned to be myself

I stand out from the crowd

comfortable in my discomforting way

that comes from every pore

every sore

every score of my expressions.

It’s my art

The heart of my song

The liver that cleans my spleen

seen in all my glory every time

I stand against the crowd

Each and every difference

Friction

Grating

Unconforming

Uncomplying

Understandable me.

See that fella

hovering on the edge

the one who isn’t fitting in

the one with the shifty eyes

the glint of his own

You can smell that he’s

An outsider

A weirdo

An awkward one

An individual

Heart

A body of imagining

Power

Wealth

Stealth

Scheming to survive

The crowd

The collective view

The “what we all think”

Thinkers.

I stand against the crowd

I stand out from the crowd

Away from the crowd

Proud of my own way

Fiddling the melody

Composed of notes

I’ve assembled from the crowd

Playing the game I’ve invented

The rules I’ve annunciated

Predicated on the shoulders

of giants who have fallen

in battle

Against the crowd

Castigated on shoulders

Of heroes that have died

For the cause of being

Themselves.

I reject the way of the crowd

Every time my heart pumps

Blood from the flat of my soul

To the peak of my imagination.

Consternation

I will cause

Conflagration to

instigation of the self

Opinionated

Author of my fate

Creator of my faith

Born to be wild

Not filed away in a box

I defy

I stand against the crowd

That would

Categorise me

Classify me

Entomb me in place

where they could ignore me

where they could make me safe

from causing a splash

from making a difference

from changing

The course of history

The dreams of others

The Universe.

For such a cause

I stand against the crowd

I stand out from the crowd

to welcome you

Fellow traveller

Fellow awkward person

Follower battler

For your way.

For your way is my way too

Your way is yours

My way is mine

Our way stands out from the crowd

We stand against the crowd.

We stand up for ourselves

We stand who stand.

Against the crowd

Unto death.
_________________________

Notes:

Thoughtfortoday  19 September 

  

Be present today

Be present right now.

Present to your ears, eyes, taste, touch, smell & imagination

… and more. 

Be truly fully present 

to the whisperings of your universe.

Thoughtfortoday 18 September 

  

Listen 

Listen like mad

Listen with your ears

Particularly with your heart

More importantly with your gut

Creatively with your wild imagination

OK? 

Have you been listening?

2014 was a year…

it was a year that asked to be

buried

or burned on a pyre 

constructed from the shyte

that held my year together.

Or was it …?

Surely there was more to it than that?

Surely there was a before and an after?

Before was wintertime.

Before was the joy of the city of big shoulders,

the invitation to excitement desired,

hope retained,

an event looked forward to.

There was a new year

full of hope

a future to celebrate with Revolution.

There was a period of time

when I prospered.

The joys of March.

Days when my lover’s offer 

came to Cork

were an unmitigated blessing

– before that offer was too much.

All those early days,

all those days before the French holiday,

before the paintbrush 

wiped away the smile from my face 

– I sat by a stream.

I imagined the whispering flow

of water over stone.

I imagined paint on canvas

and fell down in the field

during the drama of women

confronting the god.

Oh how terrible that field,

how awful

until 

months later.

Bless Netflix, bless Breaking Bad.

You were so wonderful.

Where would I have been without …
______________________

Composed on 31 December 2014

10 Movies (films) that made a deep impression on me

  • Life of Brian
  • Birdman
  • Calvery
  • Il Postino
  • Cinema Paradiso
  • The Jungle Book
  • Kajaki
  • Jean de Florette & Manon des Sources
  • The Producers
  • La Vita e Bella

__________________________

List compiled in February 2015 (under review)