Sunday, October 19, 2014

The weight of the world


The weight of one life is enough.

When the center of the world was the Mediterranean.
The Titan Atlas was made by Zeus, king of the Gods from Greek mythology,
 to carry the weight of the world on his shoulders.

Zeus sentenced Prometheus to have his liver pecked out and eaten by an eagle.
For stealing fire from the Gods and sharing it with man.
Since the Titans were immortal the liver kept growing back.
Atlas intended the punishment to last forever,
perhaps Greek mythology's version of Hell.



I think at different times in our lives we all experience this feeling.
when were not winning, when you loose faith in yourself or others.

If you were carrying the weight of the world you would surely drop it.
It would shatter into thousands of pieces.


Freeing yourself of the 'dust' from past failures and dissatisfaction
is exhausting. Who knew how heavy 'dust' actually is.
'Fresh air' is exhilarating, breath it in !!!

The only person you are destined to be
 is who you decide to be
-Ralph Waldo Emerson-

Maybe the gift of fire from Prometheus to man was 
The fire of will. 

As the years have passed I've moved to more 'Primal' methods of training.
Using two sets of  twenty pound ankle weights (one on each limb)
I walk for 1 hour and 10 minutes every day. the results are pretty amazing.



I know where i've been, I can't wait to see where I'm going.
There is always risk in Primal activity..... life, love and Martial Arts.
You don't know whether it will warm your heart, fulfill your hearts desires
or burn the whole damn house down.



Picking up the pieces is never an easy task, but what a great opportunity.
Sure there is difficulty in every opportunity,
 but there is also opportunity in every difficulty.

 When rebuilding a shattered world from pieces things won't ever be the same.
But do you want them to be ?

Happiness is the pause between two moments of suffering.
The jagged edges of those broken shards may reflect 'the light' you need.

During a speech at the J.L.F.S. annual awards banquet I wrote this on a napkin.

Love and Death don't mean a thing until the Angels sing.
I hope I was everything I was supposed to be 
when the Angels sing