ASC!
Jan 31 2011 Filed in: Claude
Ken’s term for ADD, i.e. ASC (Attention Specific Condition). I like his version better and I also like it better than Attention Specific Syndrome, which is what my father-in-law would rather call it, I’m sure. Gee, why would that be?
ADD Book Reference fr Claude
Jan 31 2011 Filed in: Claude
One or two guys at the last meeting wanted to know the title of the book I mentioned. It’s called, Delivered from Distraction: Getting the Most out of Life with Attention Deficit Disorder, by Edward M. Hallowell, M.D. and John J. Ratey, M.D.
------
Note: if anybody cares to add more information about this book or related I’ll add it to this post. Just email it to me and let me know. ~Michael
Do you need what you want?
Jan 30 2011 Filed in: Jims Poems
Do you need what you want?
Do you want what you need?
If you need something,
Must you necessarily want it?
If you want something,
Must you necessarily need it?
I don’t need to know,
But I want to.
Do you want what you need?
If you need something,
Must you necessarily want it?
If you want something,
Must you necessarily need it?
I don’t need to know,
But I want to.
The Secret Life of Jesus #375
Jan 30 2011 Filed in: Jims Poems
The Secret Life of Jesus #375
The prom was coming up,
And Jesus didn’t have date.
What he did have
Was acne.
He could have
Done something about it,
But he wanted to fit in.
His sister offered to go
To the prom with him,
But he declined.
He went to the prom alone,
And all the girls danced with him,
As if by some miracle,
Like bees
Around a honey jar.
The prom was coming up,
And Jesus didn’t have date.
What he did have
Was acne.
He could have
Done something about it,
But he wanted to fit in.
His sister offered to go
To the prom with him,
But he declined.
He went to the prom alone,
And all the girls danced with him,
As if by some miracle,
Like bees
Around a honey jar.
The Secret Life of Jesus #564
Jan 30 2011 Filed in: Jims Poems
The Secret Life of Jesus #564
Jesus had a terrible headache,
It felt like somebody
Was pounding nails into him.
He tried to smile
As people reached out
To touch his robe.
They had come a long way
To see him.
But the nails kept pounding,
And the people kept coming,
And he knew his headaches
Were just beginning.
Jesus had a terrible headache,
It felt like somebody
Was pounding nails into him.
He tried to smile
As people reached out
To touch his robe.
They had come a long way
To see him.
But the nails kept pounding,
And the people kept coming,
And he knew his headaches
Were just beginning.
Brothers.... MarkW
Jan 26 2011 Filed in: Message
Brothers,
According to my i-phone, it's 12:10 AM. Ken A and Tom were the last to leave about twenty minutes ago. I just finished putting the place back in order, and am proud of myself for pitching the potato chips.
What is the Mens' Group to me? Above all is the love I feel from and for all of you.
Beyond that is the benefit the Group has provided down through the years that I most value. I get to convoluted, locked-in places in my heart, mind, and psyche that I know, with blinding certainty, cannot be understood by another. This sureness of not being understood is, in truth, the Primal Fear of being understood. It is Survival. Being wholly seen is a fleeing gazelle being brought down by a lion. It is a small animal having its heart torn out by a bird of prey. It is revelation of my falseness and inadequacy I have lived my whole life to conceal.
In the fifteen years I've been with you, I have often played it close to the vest. But sometimes I have dived (or been pushed) headfirst into that darkness. Then, so many times, I saw the light of acceptance and self-recognition by you of me, and by me - incredibly - of you. We are not alone. We have value. Rather than a reward/punishment game to be played and always lost, life is worth living for all of us. Our group has given that to me time after time. It's a saving grace.
Mark
According to my i-phone, it's 12:10 AM. Ken A and Tom were the last to leave about twenty minutes ago. I just finished putting the place back in order, and am proud of myself for pitching the potato chips.
What is the Mens' Group to me? Above all is the love I feel from and for all of you.
Beyond that is the benefit the Group has provided down through the years that I most value. I get to convoluted, locked-in places in my heart, mind, and psyche that I know, with blinding certainty, cannot be understood by another. This sureness of not being understood is, in truth, the Primal Fear of being understood. It is Survival. Being wholly seen is a fleeing gazelle being brought down by a lion. It is a small animal having its heart torn out by a bird of prey. It is revelation of my falseness and inadequacy I have lived my whole life to conceal.
In the fifteen years I've been with you, I have often played it close to the vest. But sometimes I have dived (or been pushed) headfirst into that darkness. Then, so many times, I saw the light of acceptance and self-recognition by you of me, and by me - incredibly - of you. We are not alone. We have value. Rather than a reward/punishment game to be played and always lost, life is worth living for all of us. Our group has given that to me time after time. It's a saving grace.
Mark
To America with AK47 Love
Jan 26 2011 Filed in: Jims Poems
seemed appropriate on State of the Union night. Jim
To America with AK47 Love
To America with AK47 Love
I brought you this poem from an angry lover,
Because you were ready for it,
Because you needed your ass slapped,
Because I should have left you a long time ago,
But I could not surrender your sweet parts,
Just as I could not make you understand yourself.
Oh America, why have you been so wild, so stupid?
So knocked up on sex with bad ideas?
America, you have become a slut
Walking down after hour alleys
With dubious parsons of the night.
America, you need a good bath.
We were happy once, Oh America.
I drove your curves beneath the good sun.
I studied the bosom of your mountains,
Your orgasmic rivers and the steam rising
From your everlasting hot springs at Yellowstone.
I tasted the hot juice of your prodigal lips,
Reflected in the windows of Manhattan.
But you’ve gone fucking around again,
Shooting up with bad company.
It’s time for an intervention.
I am going to steal your clothes, Oh America.
And strap you to a cactus, and feed you
Good medicine to make you well.
See the strong men in the doorway?
See my strong hands, waiting to shake you
From the opium haze of false dreams?
Come now America my love.
It is time to pay Jesus
For your sins.
Rilke
Jan 12 2011 Filed in: Other Poets | Quotes
A few thoughts from Rilke I alluded to last evening. -mb
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."
I can't make every minute holy.
I don't want to stand before you like a thing,
shrewd and secretive.
I want my own will, and I want
simply to be with my will,
as it goes toward action,
and in the silent, sometimes hardly
moving times,
when something is coming near.
I want to be with those who know
secret things or else alone.
I want to unfold
I don't want to be folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
"Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves, like locked rooms and like books that are now written in a very foreign tongue. Do not now seek the answers, which cannot be given you because you would not be able to live them. And the point is, to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will then gradually, without noticing it, live along some distant day into the answer."
I can't make every minute holy.
I don't want to stand before you like a thing,
shrewd and secretive.
I want my own will, and I want
simply to be with my will,
as it goes toward action,
and in the silent, sometimes hardly
moving times,
when something is coming near.
I want to be with those who know
secret things or else alone.
I want to unfold
I don't want to be folded anywhere,
because where I am folded, there I am a lie.
On Conciousness
Jan 12 2011 Filed in: Talk
This is a very fine discussion about meditation, consciousness, mindfulness. Some of the memes that have been showing up in our meetings of late.
http://www.linktv.org/video/3599/bokaras-conversations-on-consciousness-guest-jon-kabat-zinn
http://www.linktv.org/video/3599/bokaras-conversations-on-consciousness-guest-jon-kabat-zinn
Start Close In
Jan 12 2011 Filed in: Other Poets
This is the poem I referenced in my talking this evening. If there is interest I’ll find the 10min section where DW discusses this.
Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first thing close in,
the step you don't want to take.
Start with the ground you know,
the pale ground beneath your feet,
your own way of starting the conversation.
Start with your own question,
give up on other people's questions,
don't let them smother something simple.
To find another's voice follow your own voice,
wait until that voice becomes a private ear
listening to another. Start right now
take a small step you can call your own
don't follow someone else's heroics,
be humble and focused, start close in,
don't mistake that other for your own.
Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first thing close in,
the step you don't want to take.
~ David Whyte
Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first thing close in,
the step you don't want to take.
Start with the ground you know,
the pale ground beneath your feet,
your own way of starting the conversation.
Start with your own question,
give up on other people's questions,
don't let them smother something simple.
To find another's voice follow your own voice,
wait until that voice becomes a private ear
listening to another. Start right now
take a small step you can call your own
don't follow someone else's heroics,
be humble and focused, start close in,
don't mistake that other for your own.
Start close in,
don't take the second step
or the third,
start with the first thing close in,
the step you don't want to take.
~ David Whyte
Ken Peters : My Men
Jan 03 2011 Filed in: KenP
Ken Peters: My Men
My men have come through
Every time I've needed them
In many varied ways:
The presence of men:
Often it's just the drumming
Which can center me
Or after drumming
While quietly holding hands,
Letting thoughts disperse
Sometimes, in distress,
Observing men in conflict,
Checking my feelings
Noticing my thoughts,
Judging or empathizing,
Wanting more info.
When my thoughts scatter
And everyone is confused,
My men reign me in
Yes, these are "my" men!
So why am I possessive?
They are there for me.
My men have come through
Every time I've needed them
In many varied ways:
The presence of men:
Often it's just the drumming
Which can center me
Or after drumming
While quietly holding hands,
Letting thoughts disperse
Sometimes, in distress,
Observing men in conflict,
Checking my feelings
Noticing my thoughts,
Judging or empathizing,
Wanting more info.
When my thoughts scatter
And everyone is confused,
My men reign me in
Yes, these are "my" men!
So why am I possessive?
They are there for me.