"Handful of Beach Sand: Khalil Gibran/my humble mumble"
For lack of an OKPhilosophy board, the only place I have to plant my thoughts are here. GD has been my temporary vacate, but most of you might remember me by HalleluYAH.
In some ways GD is like an OKPhilosophy board…This is a Khalil Gibran poem that I posted a few weeks back…a little birdie told me abt it as little birdies are often the messengers of my life. I had a chance to reread it last night and felt the urge to comment on a few of its lines and the meanings that they hold for me.
Some people view activism as an outward act. Something you do in league with a movement or organizational group of some sort. While I support volunteerism and the like, above all else I support real dedication and loyalty of the heart, mind and spirit. Although it may matter little to some of you who will read this, I feel it important to re-iterate that activism without dedication is nought.
As such I pose the question, how many of you have only reached the fourth level and stopped? How many of you have made it back after having reached the fourth level? Self progression and realization is a never ending movement and should be…we are constantly changing in fact that is the only thing that remains constant. However we must all take that journey back in order to truly help ourselves and the world around us and more importantly I feel that we shd encourage others to do so.
So I wd like to inspire a few minds to partake with me in this exercise. Below I have posted the poem in question. I will ofcourse comment on the lines as well, but I wd also like to know your opinion on them and perhaps if any, what it inspires within you. Let the reasononing begin.
3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' 3' When you tell your trouble to your neighbor you present him with a part of your heart. If he possesses a great soul, he thanks you; if he possesses a small one, he belittles you.
Progress is not merely improving the past; it is moving forward toward the future.
A hungry savage picks fruit from a tree and eats it; a hungry civilized man buys it from a man who, in turn, buys it from the man who picks it.
Art is one step from the visibly known toward the unknown.
The earth breathes, we live; it pauses in breath, we die.
Man’s eye is a magnifier; it shows him the earth much larger than it is.
I abstain from the people who consider insolence, bravery and tenderness cowardice. And I abstain from those who consider chatter wisdom and silence ignorance.
They tell me: If you see a slave sleeping, do not wake him lest he be dreaming of freedom.
I tell them: If you see a slave sleeping, wake him and explain to him freedom.
Contradiction is a lower degree of intelligence.
Bravery is a volcano; the seed of wavering does not grow on its crater.
The river continues on its way to the sea, broken the wheel of the mill or not.
The greater your joy or your sorrow, the smaller the world in your eyes.
Learning nourishes the seed but it gives you no seed of its own.
I use hate as a weapon to defend myself; had I been strong, I would never have needed that kind of weapon.
There are among the people murderers who have never committed murder, thieves who have never stolen and liars who have spoken nothing but the truth.
Keep me away from the wisdom which does not cry, the philosophy which does not laugh and the greatness which does not bow before children.
O great intelligent Being! Hidden and existing in and for the universe, You can hear me because You are within me and You can see me because You are all-seeing; please drop within my soul a seed of Your wisdom to grow a sapling in Your forest and to give of Your fruit.
To Repair The Indestructible and to Paint the Ocean Wave with Sand.