Opportunity is missed by most people because it is dressed in overalls and looks like work.
- Thomas Edison
Rusty's Quotebook
Friday, May 30, 2014
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Dear procrastinator,
Procrastination has nothing to do with disciplining yourself or 'just doing it' This is the most common misconception about procrastination and will instead achieve exactly the opposite of what you want. Let me explain:
The reason why human-beings procrastinate is to feel in control of their life. The act of rebelling against an oppressor, an authorative figure telling you what to do, is your way of regaining mastery over your own fate. Very much the same way kids throw a tantrum when their parents order them to do something, the procrastinator puts off tasks because he has come to harbor resentment against the thing to be done. Why, you ask? Because in your admirable will and ambition to achieve your goals, rather ironically, you have created the only thing that can stop you from reaching your goals: a separate mental authority figure causing unneccessary internal strife. You have created a bully out of yourself.
Start listening to the way you talk to yourself; Instead of punishing yourself for not following up on things, you need to learn to let loose. Adopt the belief that you have the natural tendency to work productively and act creatively. Nobody needs to man up, shape up, or be disciplined. Stop framing the world as if it is a constant struggle to get things done, instead start viewing life as a sequence of awesomely fun and exciting things to work on.
-Good luck, Edo van Royen
Procrastination has nothing to do with disciplining yourself or 'just doing it' This is the most common misconception about procrastination and will instead achieve exactly the opposite of what you want. Let me explain:
The reason why human-beings procrastinate is to feel in control of their life. The act of rebelling against an oppressor, an authorative figure telling you what to do, is your way of regaining mastery over your own fate. Very much the same way kids throw a tantrum when their parents order them to do something, the procrastinator puts off tasks because he has come to harbor resentment against the thing to be done. Why, you ask? Because in your admirable will and ambition to achieve your goals, rather ironically, you have created the only thing that can stop you from reaching your goals: a separate mental authority figure causing unneccessary internal strife. You have created a bully out of yourself.
Start listening to the way you talk to yourself; Instead of punishing yourself for not following up on things, you need to learn to let loose. Adopt the belief that you have the natural tendency to work productively and act creatively. Nobody needs to man up, shape up, or be disciplined. Stop framing the world as if it is a constant struggle to get things done, instead start viewing life as a sequence of awesomely fun and exciting things to work on.
-Good luck, Edo van Royen
Thursday, December 23, 2010
If I had my life to live over again, I'd dare to make more mistakes next time. I'd relax. I'd limber up. I'd be sillier than I've been this trip. I would take fewer things seriously. I would take more chances, I would take more trips, I would climb more mountains and swim more rivers. I would eat more ice cream and less beans. I would, perhaps, have more actual troubles but fewer imaginary ones. You see, I'm one of those people who was sensible and sane, hour after hour, day after day.
Oh, I've had my moments. If I had it to do over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else--just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I could do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.
If I have my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dances, I would ride more merry-go-rounds, I would pick more daisies.
-Nadine Stair, 86.
Oh, I've had my moments. If I had it to do over again, I'd have more of them. In fact, I'd try to have nothing else--just moments, one after another, instead of living so many years ahead of each day. I've been one of those persons who never goes anywhere without a thermometer, a hot-water bottle, a raincoat, and a parachute. If I could do it again, I would travel lighter than I have.
If I have my life to live over, I would start barefoot earlier in the spring and stay that way later in the fall. I would go to more dances, I would ride more merry-go-rounds, I would pick more daisies.
-Nadine Stair, 86.
Monday, March 01, 2010
Tuesday, November 11, 2008
A man should learn to detect and watch that gleam of light which flashes across his mind from within, more than the lustre of the firmament of bards and sages. Yet he dismisses without notice his thought, because it is his. In every work of genius we recognize our own rejected thoughts: they come back to us with a certain alienated majesty. Great works of art have no more affecting lesson for us than this. They teach us to abide by our spontaneous impression with good-humored inflexibility then most when the whole cry of voices is on the other side. Else, to-morrow a stranger will say with masterly good sense precisely what we have thought and felt all the time, and we shall be forced to take with shame our own opinion from another.
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self Reliance
-Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self Reliance
Wednesday, April 23, 2008
Wednesday, May 23, 2007
There is much to be said for contentment and painlessness, for these bearable and submissive days, on which neither pain nor pleasure is audible, but pass by whispering and on tip-toe. But the worst of it is that it is just this contentment that I cannot endure. After a short time it fills me with irrepressible hatred and nausea. In desperation I have to escape and throw myself on the road to pleasure, or, if that cannot be, on the road to pain. When I have neither pleasure nor pain and have been breathing for a while the lukewarm insipid air of these so-called good and tolerable days, I feel so bad in my childish soul that I smash my moldering lyre of thanksgiving in the face of the slumbering god of contentment and would rather feel the very devil burn in me than this warmth of a well-heated room. A wild longing for strong emotions and sensations seethes in me, a rage against this toneless, flat, normal and sterile life. I have a mad impulse to smash something, a warehouse, perhaps, or a cathedral, or myself, to commit outrages, to pull off the wigs of a few revered idols, to provide a few schoolboys with the longed-for ticket to Hamburg, or to stand one of two representatives of the established order on their
heads. For what I always hated and detested and cursed above all things was this contentment, this healthiness and comfort, this carefully preserved optimism of the middle classes, this fat and prosperous brood of mediocrity.
-Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf
heads. For what I always hated and detested and cursed above all things was this contentment, this healthiness and comfort, this carefully preserved optimism of the middle classes, this fat and prosperous brood of mediocrity.
-Hermann Hesse, Steppenwolf
Thursday, May 17, 2007
Friday, December 08, 2006
Thursday, January 26, 2006
Wednesday, November 30, 2005
Remembering that you are going to die is the best way I know to avoid the trap of thinking you have something to lose. You are already naked. There is no reason not to follow your heart. ... Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.
Steve Jobs
Steve Jobs
Wednesday, October 12, 2005
Monday, October 10, 2005
Wednesday, October 05, 2005
I think we must clear ourselves each one by the interrogation, whether we have earned our bread to-day by the hearty contribution of our energies to the common benefit? and we must not cease to tend to the correction of these flagrant wrongs, by laying one stone aright every day.
Emerson, Man the Reformer
Emerson, Man the Reformer
Wednesday, September 28, 2005
Thursday, September 08, 2005
Monday, September 05, 2005
Until one is committed, there is hesitancy, the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness. Concerning all acts of initiative (and creation), there is one elementary truth the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans: that the moment one definitely commits oneself, then Providence moves too. A whole stream of events issues from the decision, raising in one's favor all manner of unforeseen incidents, meetings and material assistance, which no man could have dreamt would have come his way. I learned a deep respect for one of Goethe's couplets: “Whatever you can do or dream you can, begin it. Boldness has genius, power and magic in it! Begin it now!”
W.H. Murray, The Scottish Himalaya Expedition
W.H. Murray, The Scottish Himalaya Expedition
Friday, September 02, 2005
Thursday, September 01, 2005
Give all to love;
Obey thy heart;
Friends, kindred, days,
Estate, good fame,
Plans, credit, and the muse;
Nothing refuse.
'Tis a brave master,
Let it have scope,
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope;
High and more high,
It dives into noon,
With wing unspent,
Untold intent;
But 'tis a god,
Knows its own path,
And the outlets of the sky.
'Tis not for the mean,
It requireth courage stout,
Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending;
Such 'twill reward,
They shall return
More than they were,
And ever ascending.
Leave all for love;—
Yet, hear me, yet,
One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,
Keep thee to-day,
To-morrow, for ever,
Free as an Arab
Of thy beloved.
Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
Vague shadow of surmise,
Flits across her bosom young
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free,
Do not thou detain a hem,
Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.
Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Tho' her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive,
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
Emerson, Give All To Love
Obey thy heart;
Friends, kindred, days,
Estate, good fame,
Plans, credit, and the muse;
Nothing refuse.
'Tis a brave master,
Let it have scope,
Follow it utterly,
Hope beyond hope;
High and more high,
It dives into noon,
With wing unspent,
Untold intent;
But 'tis a god,
Knows its own path,
And the outlets of the sky.
'Tis not for the mean,
It requireth courage stout,
Souls above doubt,
Valor unbending;
Such 'twill reward,
They shall return
More than they were,
And ever ascending.
Leave all for love;—
Yet, hear me, yet,
One word more thy heart behoved,
One pulse more of firm endeavor,
Keep thee to-day,
To-morrow, for ever,
Free as an Arab
Of thy beloved.
Cling with life to the maid;
But when the surprise,
Vague shadow of surmise,
Flits across her bosom young
Of a joy apart from thee,
Free be she, fancy-free,
Do not thou detain a hem,
Nor the palest rose she flung
From her summer diadem.
Though thou loved her as thyself,
As a self of purer clay,
Tho' her parting dims the day,
Stealing grace from all alive,
Heartily know,
When half-gods go,
The gods arrive.
Emerson, Give All To Love
If I when my wife is sleeping
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,--
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
"I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!"
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,--
Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?
William Carlos Williams, Danse Russe
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,--
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
"I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!"
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
against the yellow drawn shades,--
Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?
William Carlos Williams, Danse Russe
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