perfect

T.H.I.N.K.

/ Kennedy Farr / Leave a comment

THINKI came across this acronym today and thought, This is perfect!  I needed to see this!  How many times in a day do I not think? I have said things, done things, intimated things that, at the time, felt incredibly Appropriate.  Maybe even a little Profound or a lot Righteous.  Ouch.  A part of me wants to cringe when I think of these moments . . . but then Forgiveness of Self taps me on the shoulder, and I allow it entrance.  I strive to be someone who uplifts rather than tears down, yet I am far from Perfect.  Try as I might, life gets complicated and I get lost in the details.

There are times when an emotional hijacking takes place and my amygdala takes flight while my neocortex is still thinking, “Huh?”  And it is times like these when THINK would have come in very handy and saved the day.

Is it True?  Is it Helpful?  Is it Inspiring?  Is it Necessary?  Is it Kind?

What awesome questions to memorize and to tattoo to my words when struggling with a personal conflict at work or at home or in a relationship.  If it isn’t thoughtful, helpful, inspiring, necessary, or kind, maybe it is time for me to shift gears into a different way of thinking.  And speaking.  Or simply not saying anything at all.

We’ve all been in this place.  Some of us more than others.  We want to live a genuine life.  A life that is true to our own selves.  We think that if we don’t speak up and speak our mind, we are going to be swallowed by someone else’s ego or someone else’s preferences.  But I am thinking that it would be a whole lot of fun to be in this new THINK place.  I am wondering about all of the cosmic and universal shifts that could possibly take place all around and within by simply THINK-ing.

This week’s challenge: THINK.  THINK out loud to others and to my own self.  Set my ego aside and let my Higher Self do the talking.  I am suspecting that the week will be infinitely changed by setting THINK into motion.  Who knows what kind of windows, doors, and skylights — for me and for others — will be opened by simply THNKing.  I am going to focus on these very positive aspects and tell others what it is that I appreciate about them.  Life truly is brief and I want to spend it THINK-ing.  Out loud.

i think you are wonderful

 

 

Prompt: Do you want to open your attitude?

/ Kennedy Farr / 4 Comments

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PROMPT: Do you believe that practice makes perfect?

This quote generates all sorts of considering and sorting and restructuring, leading me to ponder my perceptions of Practice, Progress, and Perfect.

Practice.  Progress.  Perfect.  What constitutes enough Practice?  How do I effectively measure Progress?  How do I define Perfect? How many words on the page are enough for the day such that I feel that I made progress on my novella?  Should I edit as I write or leave that for another time?  When will I know that the book is perfect and ready for publishing?  Where within the art of writing are my feelings of reward and self-actualization?  When is enough enough?  When is very little a new measure of bliss?

I play music with someone who once gently corrected me when I said that I felt like I didn’t have enough time to practice during the week.  Jerry’s response: “Try not to think of it as practice but think of it as playing.  Play music.  Don’t practice it.”  I will always remember his wise and profound words, as they turned me around into a new way of thinking and feeling and being.  My music changed after he said that to me.  Like a recalcitrant mule that doesn’t want to head north up the trail, you sometimes have to walk it in a circle once, or even twice, to reconfigure its level of cooperation.  I can’t count the times I have seen this work — the mule will move up the mountain with an open attitude.  Jerry spun my perceptions of Practice into a celebration of Play.  He opened my attitude.

We don’t stop to evaluate Play when we are in the midst of celebrating fun.  We don’t measure Play’s progress or outcome levels.  And I cannot ever recall trying to decide if I was Perfect enough at Play.  What would happen if I chose to see my writing as Play?  Would I continue to consider it a discipline or schedule it as a priority?  I think not.  By allowing myself to enter into the Practice of Perfect Play, the moment is mine.