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Excerpts from a book that is being co-authored with Chris Saade
The book focuses on the great importance of intentionally celebrating & championing one's own authentic nature
and the authentic nature of others.
I have taken on a job that doesn’t fit who I am. I thought I could do it. I wanted to do it. I somehow believed that the affirmation of my manhood depended on me doing it. An emotion-induced nausea has set in. My appetite is fleeting. I’m very distracted. My wife tells me I seem distant and not present. A dark cloud of heaviness – perhaps depressiveness – hovers around me. I read the newspaper – a story of a horrific event – but my interest is not captured. A high level of anxiousness keeps me awake at night. All seems terribly lost. And then I muster the courage to speak a few simple sentences of truth: This job is not me. I can’t do it anymore. I need to make a change. I make a plan to make the change happen.
Almost immediately my stomach settles. I feel hungry again. The dark cloud dissipates. My connection to world events is restored. I sleep soundly.
The lesson learned? To betray my nature is to play with fire. A fire that can burn my entire life to the ground.
When I live in ways that are not authentic – that go against what I know to be true and natural for me – I feel a sense of “homelessness.” Like a nomad. Wandering through life with no rootedness. Whether for a minute, a day, or a week. . .when I surrender my authenticity, that heavy and dark sensation of homelessness fills me. And the world around me – in turn – seems to become a hostile and unwelcoming place.
I’m an artist at heart. Painting and photography are my thing. When there’s a blank canvas in front of me or when I have a camera in my hand. . .Oh my God! I feel such an explosion of energy inside. It’s hard to explain. . . .Here’s the best analogy I’ve been able to come up with: It’s like the explosion that occurs when a huge flock of birds simultaneously takes flight from a huge tree they’ve been perched in. That’s the feeling a blank canvas and camera evokes in me!
My problem? I’m not working as an artist. In fact, I’m not working at all. I’m recovering from a car accident that almost took my life. And here’s the even bigger tragedy: For the last ten years, I worked in a big company in a high-pressure sales position. I hated it. It was eating me up. Totally not me! But I kept telling myself that I needed the money. . .that it was a good career opportunity. . just another year or two. . .and then there’d be time for the canvas and camera. Ironically. . .no, I would say “prophetically”. . .my accident occurred one morning on my way to work. I was rushing to get to a meeting. . .rushing to a meeting that I absolutely hated the thought of being at.
As I approach full recovery, I’ve chosen to view this tragic event in my life as a metaphor. I was doing such violence against my authentic nature. My job was killing me on the inside. . . .my spirit was dying. . .but. . .I wasn’t getting the message. And then. . the accident. . . . . .it was my job. . . . .driving to the job I hate. . . . . and in a hectic rush. . . .I’m almost killed. . . . dead. . .gone forever!
This was a wake up call for me. I don’t know what guardian angel was watching over me. . . . .but I’ve been given a second chance. I’m not going back to my sales job. No more will I betray the truth of who I know myself to be. I’m an artist at heart. . . . and somehow. . . . .someway. . . .this is the life I must live.
It was yesterday that the explosion occurred again. It was a balmy fall day. I had my window open. And I glanced out just at the right moment. . . .just at the moment when a migrating flock of birds simultaneously took flight from a huge oak tree.
In my bed, I sit now propped up on pillows with a small blank canvas leaning against my bent legs. And a camera stands at the ready on my bedside table. And my new life. . . . .The life that is authentically mine to live starts today. . . . .and there will be no turning back!
Double click on the ">" to hear
"Starting at the End"
Starting At The End
(Song Lyrics)
This is a song about "awakening the future in the present."
There’s an image living inside of me
Of who I think I’m going to be one day
Like a guiding star shinin’ deep within
That image pulls me forward like a magnet I can’t see
Yeah my future self is looking back at me
A caterpillar walkin’ there across the grass
Do you think she knows what life has got in store
Now her little cocoon is hangin’ from a limb
Could it be an image told that little worm that she could fly
Now there’s a butterfly who’s dancing in the sky
I’m not living for the future
But the future lives in me
So I’m leaning toward that image
Of who I’m yet to be
The past is like the book page
And the present is like the pen
But it’s the future who’s the author
Writing backwards starting at the end
See the little acorn falling from the tree
Do you think he knows what life has got in store
As he’s lying there all muddy on the cold dark ground
Could there be an image pulling him to heights he’s never seen
Now there’s a mighty oak tree dancing in the breeze
Barry's CD
I'll Champion You, You Champion Me
(Song Lyrics)
This is a song about "advocating the 'other'."
I don't like most of what you say
I find your words repulsive, over there I wish you'd stay
My way of thinking to you seems most absurd
You find me so annoying, I get on your last nerve
Your way of living almost seems obscene
When I'm in your presence, I find it hard to breathe
My way of worship you find quite profane
When I tell you my beliefs, you think that I'm insane
But then she speaks to us
And reminds us who we are
She says without each other
We won't get very far (she says you've got to)
Advocate each other, do you know what I mean
You've got to champion your nemesis
And find that space in between, that sacred space in between
Our precious world is on the edge
How much more blood must we shed
I'll champion you, you champion me
Let's bless each other and find that space in between
I don't like most of what you say
So I listen more intently, because mine is not the only way
(mine is not the only way)
My way of thinking to you seems most absurd
So you move in my direction, because you know that you don't own the last word
(you know that you don't own the last word)
Our precious world is on the edge
How much more blood must we shed
I'll champion you, you champion me
Let's bless each other and find that space in between
Ultimate Destination
(A poem about living with vision)
I come
Not from where I have been
But
From where I am going
Looking back
Into the mirror
Of where I entered this world
I see nothing
No reflection
That resembles me
Only reflections of wind’s footprints atop the yearning river
Yet
As I gaze
Into the looking glass
Of my soul’s evolution
I catch glimpses
Of the me I am being born into
Going home
Then
Is not about
Some nostalgic and tribalistic return
Rather
A progression
Ever onward
To that place
Of sacred extinction
Where the flickering candle’s flame
Burns its last breathe of light
Only then
In that final
Puff of smoke
That snakes
And curls its way upward
Does the world
Witness and receive
My name
Check the certificates
Of birth and death
Notice the dates and times
Are exactly the same
Picasso knew this
Seeing his origination
At a very old age
In the self portrait
That revealed
The final image
He had been evolving toward
All of his life
Yes
I say to you
I come not from where I have been
But
From where I am going
I am born
Through ultimate destination
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