Yesterday I had the opportunity to listen to some very interesting people talk about their lives. I’ve always enjoyed hearing other people’s stories, I guess that’s one of the reasons I enjoy doing interviews.
One of the speakers was Chris Garner, author of The Pursuit of Happyness (made into a movie starring Will Smith) I think through sheer determination and belief in himself, what he’s achieved in his life is pretty amazing. His website: http://www.chrisgardnermedia.com/
Another speaker was Frank Abagnale; his life story was also made into a movie by Steven Spielberg called “Catch Me If You Can”. I was enthralled to hear Frank speak about the things he had done. If you are not familiar with his story, Frank began his misadventures as a con artist/imposter and forger at age 16. He impersonated a pilot, a physician and an attorney and managed some pretty incredible and ballsy feats along the way. He spoke about some of his “achievements” during this time and it was truly mind boggling how he did some of these things. He mentioned the movie and book that were written/inspired by his life and that they were not biographically and therefore some of the stories were not 100% true to life.
He was eventually captured and served time in a prison in France, then was extradited to Sweden where he served time and then finally back to the US where he served more time. After serving 5 years in the US, the FBI asked him to serve out the remainder of his sentence working for them. He has now worked with them for 31 years and is a respected consultant. He spoke about how he was not proud of his past and that his most notable achievement was that of being a father and husband. You can check out his official site here: http://www.abagnale.com/
Quincy Jones also spoke about his life and achievements, his love and passion for music. Which brought me back to my own. As he said, you can’t taste it, can’t touch it, can’t see it - but you feel it in your heart and soul.
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“You are the music while the music lasts.” - T.S. Eliot
I’ve been going through some of my old writing notebooks and came across a stack of quotes that I had saved over the years. Heres a few for your reading pleasure. I’ll post a few more when I have time.
An egotist is not a man who thinks too much of himself. He is a man who thinks too little of other people. J.F. Newton
Criticism is something we can avoid easily by saying nothing, doing nothing and being nothing. Aristotle
Idealism increases in direct proportion to ones distance from the problem.- John Galsworthy
The greatest of all faults is to be conscious of none. - Carlyle
Loneliness is not in being alone, for then ministering spirits come to soothe and bless - loneliness is to endure the presence of one who does not understand. - Elbert Hubbard
What you are speaks so loud that I cannot hear what you say. - Emerson
We are not primarily put on this earth to see through one another but to see one another through. - Peter de Vries.
One of my favorites from Robert Frost which I recently rediscovered again.
The Road Not Taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looking down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that, the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence;
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Alone
by Edgar Allan Poe
From childhood’s hour I have not been
As others were; I have not seen
As others saw; I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I loved, I loved alone.
Then- in my childhood, in the dawn
Of a most stormy life- was drawn
From every depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still.
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that round me rolled
In its autumn tint of gold,
From the lightning in the sky
As it passed me flying by,
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
