Sunday, 4 January 2009

Leadership of Oneself and Others

At the time of a new and much heralded president taking office in 2009 in the U.S., I was thinking, "Why do we need leaders?" and "What are the essential qualities of leadership that promote innovation and change?". So I've been reading around what others have written on the subject and thinking about it and also thinking that this applies just as much to the question of leading oneself on whichever path we choose. Here are some not-so-ordered thoughts, some of which I admit I haven't fully digested myself, so I hope it makes sense and do tell me what you would add!
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The purpose of leadership is to organize a group of people, the society, so as to enable, encourage, enthuse and help each member to fulfill their maximum potential in pursuit of common goals, accommodating individual needs and fostering, inspiring, directing and harmonizing individual aspirations for the common happiness and good of each and every one, and not causing harm either to those within your society or to those outside it.

Freshness - creativity, looking at things with the eyes of a child with the willingness to play around, to test hypotheses, to jump to conclusions, to adapt quickly to new evidence that contradicts your conclusions, to come up with new conclusions, to make quick decisions, to get back up from setbacks, to learn from failure and quickly start anew, to listen to one's emotions, to forgive, to forget and never to regret.

Understanding - knowledge, active reading, seeking out people who can help us, always listening, learning and open to new ideas, aware of any signs that we have gone astray, gaining experience and digesting and thinking through what we already know to better understand its implications, to resolve contradictions and to find out what we do not know, to distinguish intuition from impulse, to identify bad habits through meditation and cultivating awareness and by replacement eliminate them, to reject temptation and only afterwards turn to reason lest reason be justifier of temptation, and finally alongside good habits to develop right judgement with a strong mind and a pure heart.

Nurture - care of new ideas, and new people, both the young and those who haven't yet settled into the function that society has bestowed on them. They need to be protected, watered and given warmth until they are big enough to look after themselves and find how they fit into the whole and they must learn of the rules and principles that have developed over time to keep the whole well organized, efficient, harmonious, fair and true, and question and mould these principles and abide by them and develop good habits and not let these disintegrate over time so as to maintain a safe and happy environment for all.

Life - making things real to generate excitement and motivation, imagination used to create mental blueprints for action, concrete goals.

Ambition - vision of distant horizons and the ambition to take small steps to get there, to not lose sight of the bigger picture, a balanced approach, to make progress little & often in all departments, to distinguish between commitments and interests and to reduce randomness. Having committed to something, to pursue it with dynamic will power and be attentive to the inner voice of our conscience to keep us on the right path, and charisma to share your vision with those around you.

Momentum - concentrate on one thing at a time, go to the root and take massive action, energy and joy and tireless work that doesn't feel like work at all.

Bravery - confidence in yourself and others, fearlessness, perseverance, willingness to take risks, to make difficult decisions, to lead by example, to be peaceful and kind without compromising the truth or one's ideals, to do what is right and to take responsibility.

Signalling - signposts along the path, clarity, feedback, measuring success, accountability, calm proportionate action, follow-through for the path has no endpoint and there are always new horizons, humility, patience, generosity, compassion, diplomacy, equality, bonding, unity & oneness. Consideration and attentiveness to the needs of others, sincerity & thoughtfulness, kindness and understanding, expecting the best from people but not taking them for granted, gratefulness, doing your best for each of them, breaking down delusions and barriers of otherness. Just as important as what you do is the spirit in which you do it. Broadcast peace, prosperity and love.



But how to put all this into practice? Now that is the mark of a great leader...



If life were a test,
How would you do better?

If life were a tennis match,
Could you win against yourself?

If life were a piece of music,
How should it be played?

If life were a summer breeze
Have you learnt how to fly?


—okei


Sunday, 21 December 2008

Sarah Brightman - First of May






Happy Christmas!
I wish you a wonderful holiday &
all the best things for the New Year!


Monday, 15 December 2008

Enya - How Can I Keep From Singing?

 Three Songs of Healing:

Bob Marley - Three Little Birds  
Prayer to Kwan Yin 

Enya - How Can I Keep From Singing

My life goes on in endless song
above earth's lamentations,
I hear the real, though far-off hymn
that hails a new creation.

No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that rock I'm clinging
It sounds an echo in my soul.
How can i keep from singing.

While though the tempest loudly roars,
I know the truth, it liveth.
And though the darkness 'round me close,
songs in the night it giveth.

Through all the tumult and the strife
I hear it's music ringing,
Since love is lord of heaven and earth
How can I keep from singing?

When tyrants tremble in their fear
and hear their death knell ringing,
when friends rejoice both far and near
how can I keep from singing?

In prison cell and dungeon vile
our thoughts to them are winging,
when friends by shame are undefiled
how can I keep from singing?

Friday, 12 December 2008

The Disconsolate One (Gérard de Nerval)

I am the Darkness, — the Widowed, — the Scream,
The prince of Aquitaine, his Tower abolished:
My only Star is dead, — and my celestial lute
Bears the black Sun of Melancholy.

In the night of the Tomb, you who consoled me,
Bring me back Posilippo and the Italian sea,
The flower that so pleased my aching heart
And the trellis where the Vine and the Rose entwine.

Am I Love or Phoebus? … Lusignon or Biron?
My forehead is still red with the kiss of the Queen,
I dreamt in the Grotto where the Siren swims …

And twice a victor I crossed the Achéron stream
Modulating by turns on the lyre of Orpheus
The sighs of the Saint and the cries of the Fairy.


___________________________
This is my version of Gerard de Nerval’s “El Desdichado” (1854), translated from the French. The original may be found here.

And I just found another excellent page with lots of explanation and interpretation here.

Searching Google books, I found another translation in the Penguin of Nerval’s selected works by Richard Sieburth. I hadn’t seen this, but his translation is incredibly similar to mine!

Also, a further commentary here… http://everything2.com/title/El+Desdichado

Sunday, 7 December 2008

Castles In the Sky


Set to time lapse photography by Rob George.

Do you ever question your life?
Do you ever wonder why?
Do you ever see in your dreams
All the castles in the sky?

Oh tell me why, do we build castles in the sky?
Oh tell me why, all the castles way up high?
Please tell me why, do we build castles in the sky?
Oh tell me why, all the castles way up high?

Sunday, 30 November 2008

Fear

The only Thing
That we must Fear
Is Fear Itself
That gnaws the Heart


The Good lie fallen
Men beat their Breasts
Lost in Anguish
A Cry goes up

They rise as one
The Wave breaks
And leaves its Ashes
Upon the Desert Shore

But some recall
What came before
And slowly climb
An ancient Stream.

Upon its Banks
They lay their Load
And there in Time
Love grows a Rose.

—okei


Photo: 'First Rose of Summer' by Bernard Blanc

Thursday, 27 November 2008

The Rubaiyat (Omar Khayyam & Edward Fitzgerald)

The Rubaiyat, slightly edited and abridged so that it only has 29 verses, the same as the number of days in a lunar month. It was not written as a whole poem, but literally a set of verses, most of which can stand alone, so I’m not barbarizing the original, or if you think I am, then at least not to the extent that Fitzgerald himself did in trying to re-write his translation, which he did several times making it progressively worse, and this is why everyone uses his 1st edition. 


Awake! for Morning in the Bowl of Night
Has cast the Stone that sets the Stars to Flight:
   And Lo! the Hunter of the East has caught
The Sultan’s Turret in a Noose of Light.

Dreaming when Dawn’s Left Hand was in the Sky
I heard a Voice within the Tavern cry,
   “Awake my Little ones, and fill the Cup
Before Life’s Liquor in its Cup be dry.”

And as the Cock crew, those who stood before
The Tavern shouted — “Open then the Door!
   You know how little while we have to stay,
And, once departed, may return no more.”

Now, the New Year reviving old Desires,
The thoughtful Soul to Solitude retires
   Where the White Hand of Moses on the Bough
Puts out, and Jesus from the Ground suspires.

Irám indeed is gone with all its Rose,
And Jamshyd’s Sev’n-ringed Cup where no one knows
   But still the Vine her ancient Ruby yields,
And still a Garden by the Water blows.

And David’s Lips are locked; but in divine
High piping Pehleví, with “Wine! Wine! Wine!
   Red Wine!” — the Nightingale cries to the Rose
So to her yellow Cheeks incarnadine.

Come, fill the Cup, and in the Fire of Spring
The Winter Garment of Repentance fling:
   The Bird of Time has but a little way
To fly — and Lo! the Bird is on the Wing.

And look — a thousand Blossoms with the Day
Woke — and a thousand scattered into Clay
   And this first Summer Month that brings the Rose
Shall take Jamshyd and Kaikobád away.

But come with old Khayyám, and leave the Lot
Of Kaikobád and Kaikhosrú forgot!
   Let Rustum lay about him as he will,
Or Hátim Tai cry Supper — heed them not.

With me along some Strip of Herbage strown
That just divides the desert from the sown,
   Where name of Slave and Sultán scarce is known,
We’ll pity Sultán Mahmúd on his Throne.

Here with a Loaf of Bread beneath the Bough,
A Flask of Wine, a Book of Verse — and Thou
   Beside me singing in the Wilderness —
And Wilderness is Paradise enow.

Think, in this battered Caravanserai
Whose Doorways are alternate Night and Day,
   How Sultán after Sultán with his Pomp
Abode his Hour or two, and went his way.

They say the Lion and the Lizard keep
The Courts where Jamshyd gloried and drank deep:
   And Bahrám, that great Hunter — the Wild Ass
Stamps o’er his Head, but cannot break his Sleep.

I sometimes think that never blows so red
The Rose as where some buried Cæsar bled;
   That every Hyacinth the Garden wears
Dropt in its Lap from some once lovely Head.

And this delightful Herb whose tender Green
Fledges the River’s Lip on which we lean —
   Ah, lean upon it lightly! for who knows
From what once lovely Lip it springs unseen!

Ah, my Belovéd, fill the Cup that clears
Today of past Regrets and future Fears —
   Tomorrow? — Why, Tomorrow I may be
Myself with Yesterday’s Sev’n Thousand Years.

Lo! Some we loved, the loveliest and best
That Time and Fate of all their Vintage pressed.
   They drank their Cup a Round or two before,
And one by one crept silently to Rest.

And we, that now make merry in the Room
They left, and Summer dresses in new Bloom,
   Must we beneath the Couch of Earth descend
Ourselves to also make a Couch — for whom?

Ah, make the most of what we yet may spend,
Before we too into the Dust descend;
   Dust into Dust, and under Dust, to lie,
Sans Wine, sans Song, sans Singer, and — sans End!

Alas, that Spring should vanish with the Rose!
That Youth’s sweet-scented Manuscript should close!
    The Nightingale that in the Branches sang,
Ah, whence, and whither flown again, who knows!

Myself when young did eagerly frequent
Doctor and Saint, and heard great Argument
   About it and about: but evermore
Came out by the same Door as in I went.

With them the Seed of Wisdom did I sow,
And with my own hand laboured it to grow:
   And this was all the Harvest that I reaped —
“I came like Water, and like Wind I go.”

Up from Earth’s Centre through the Seventh Gate
I rose, and on the Throne of Saturn sate,
   And many Knots unravelled by the Road;
But not the Knot of Human Death and Fate.

‘Tis all a Chequer-board of Nights and Days
Where Destiny with Men for Pieces plays:
Hither and thither moves, and mates, and slays,
And one by one back in the Closet lays.

For in and out, above, about, below,
‘Tis nothing but a Magic Shadow-show,
    Played in a Box whose Candle is the Sun,
Round which we Phantom Figures come and go.

The Moving Finger writes; and, having writ,
Moves on: nor all thy Piety nor Wit
    Shall lure it back to cancel half a Line,
Nor all thy Tears wash out a Word of it.

Ah Love! could thou and I with Fate conspire
To grasp this sorry Scheme of Things entire,
   Would not we shatter it to bits — and then
Re-mould it nearer to the Heart’s Desire!

Ah Moon of my Delight who know’st no wane,
The Moon of Heav’n is rising once again:
   How oft hereafter rising shall she look
Through this same Garden after me in vain!

And when Thyself with shining Foot shall pass
Among the Guests Star-scattered on the Grass,
   And in your joyous Errand reach the spot
Where I made One — turn down an empty Glass!


(Omar Khayyam trans. —Edward Fitzgerald)