Tim Gallwey, Inner Game of Tennis Tim, and I speak often. And for hours and hours. Barbara, Tim’s partner, often ends up having to forcibly separate him from the phone in order to fulfill some prior engagement. She’s great. A while ago, we clocked up a three conversation about not talking. Odd. The irony of it all …
Last week I caught sight of this tree, broken and seemingly alone. That is until I attended a lecture on the latest research observing that trees are connected and act on behalf of each other when in need. Perhaps most fragments in this natural world have such capacity. You and me included …
A while back, my drifting imagination fought into the long hours of a particular night before it came up with this liberating dream board …
It’s easy for us to deem significant work as that involved in the actions that contribute to the alleviation of suffering, or to the obvious development of the human lot. To ‘saving the world’.
But in holding to such a view we might miss the significance of an extraordinary workplace …
Here was one such message I received within a few hours of posting Charlie’s haunting photograph …
‘I imagine that the causes of much of what happens in our lives lie far deeper than we imagine. It’s just that we seldom look far enough beneath the surface.’
This is the very premise of my work in the world.
He knocked on the back door. Three times. As he always had. Heavily worn trouser knees. Spectacles sat at the end of an elderly nose. And eighty two well-used years under his belt.
‘Can Albert come out to play?’ …
For if you don’t,
you may as well
and shuffle lifelessly
towards a cold
unwelcoming grave …
Might the inner condition of a leader show up in those around them?
A three minute contemplative film in black and white.
A few words for those who lean towards the literal. I am a poet, a film maker and an all-round disruptive influence. Much of what I say is metaphorical. Perhaps half. It’s just that you might not always know which half. It is for good reason …
I answered the telephone mid afternoon. The caller stated these words clear as day, and as loud as the night is quiet.
‘… Mr. Askew you are a disruptive influence.’
‘Are you sure?’, I replied.
I imagine each life to have a point. Hidden. Deeply personal. To be uncovered along an odyssey of uncontrollable experiences. And so I’d imagine it foolhardy to look at the circumstance of the life of another, and believe that your own requires the same.
Sent to a friend heading off into the middle of somewhere terribly remote, ‘… have a magnificent adventure, and do ask that imponderable vast question to which I imagine the wilderness has always held the answer,’ …
“Every day make the decision to do the right thing that will set you apart from being average.”
I saw this quote today and was struck by the dangers of seeing this world through a comparative lens …
Running like a fool.
In a circle.
The same circle.
Oh shit …
If you knew that the answers to the transformation of your organization lay somewhere inside, somewhere more profound than you first thought, then why on earth would you continue to tinker so unremittingly with systems, processes and external schemes?
Wouldn’t that show you to be a fool. Or simply scared of what might come.
Might much of recorded history be a sequence of events offering little sense of the inner experience of those who have helped shape the world …
‘… a fundamentalist is a person who considers whether a fact is acceptable to their faith before they explore it.’ A four minute film on the nature of curiosity starring the ever curious Seth Godin.
Viewer comment … ‘Bahahahahaha laughed out loud at this one, whereas I usually weep during your movies.’
It occurs to me that I haven’t chosen an easy life. Soul Biographies is entirely without prior direction. Might the dream have been the chooser …
I receive many emails and letters about the films. Many are long, vulnerable and profound. This morning I received an email that wasn’t long, vulnerable or seemingly profound. But the last line was profound to me …
Run. Headlong towards
a life of importance.
Towards the person
worthy of a place
in this seemingly
Run until you can
hide no more.
Run until the pain
becomes unbearable …
If I had lived four Centuries past, I’d imagine myself to have been a portrait painter. Setting out to catch the human predicament in the medium of that age. But I find myself here, and now. And the subtlety of our human condition would seem to lend itself well to the medium of this age …
Her dreams said this, but her actions said that.