A penguin cannot become a dinosaur,
so just be the best penguin
you can be.
A penguin cannot become a dinosaur,
so just be the best penguin
you can be.
take my hand
and lead me to
the floor
let’s hold each other
and move along
as the rhythm goes,
as the music like
the southwesterly breeze
flows.
we can sway
our feet
while your hazel eyes
sing the song
of this cold snap night
let’s just have
fun, we don’t
have to take our clothes off
tonight.
If you think about it and you look around to the people that you know, you can even see this on social media as well. You’ll see people who get upset or happy, excited or whatever their feelings are.
Then they act based upon that feeling. They’re responsive to how they feel. Then over time, they begin to become defined by those actions, either as say somebody is a hot head or somebody has integrity or good character.
This can go good or it can go bad, but essentially what you’re doing is you’re letting your feelings determine who you want to be and who you want to become, when essentially this is backwards.
What you really want to do is have your identity determine what your actions will be and then whatever your actions will be will determine your feelings.
In other words, decide the type of person you want to be, what kind of person that you want to become. What kind of person do you want to be known for? Then make your actions of that type of person. Then when your actions are of that type of person, that will bring the feelings of that.
In other words, you’re not going to be living responsive to everything.
You are going to be deciding and laying down the foundations for your own destiny.
Originally posted here: http://www.elitefts.com/coaching-logs/what-does-your-identity-have-to-do-with-feelings/
and yesterday on yesterday
the year dies
away
and winter returns,
as is the way
of the world through
time.
why must I shy
away?
if the fate is
kind
or cruel,
a man must still
try.
the love that
made you
was simple as
the sounds
at dinner:
clinks of pan
on stove, scraping-back of chair,
hummed melodies,
and intimate dialogues.
I don’t know anything.
I just like to do
everything.
rain used
to be
just tear drops.
until one day
wind, with his
alacrity
came along
and told her
that together
They could be
thunderstorm.
I met a genius on the train
today
about 23 years old,
he sat beside me
as an honest illusion
in the window pane
and as the train went on
we passed a beautiful flower
and he looked in my eyes
and said,
She’s not pretty.
It was the first time I’d
realized
that.
rain.
feeble light.
canned soup.
slow breathing.
clock ticking away.
silence.
there was
something
unwanted but complete
in his emptiness.
I’ve known hungover mornings
like childhood stories
still vaguely living
in my memory.
each of them
sedated by reminiscent
of what existed
only in my
imagination
like childhood stories
still vaguely living
in my memory.
totally
worth it.