June 17, 2016

Does Appreciation Lead to Complacency?

Fast forward to yesterday. While browsing new titles in my RSS reader, I came across Jonathan’s latest post on Illuminated Mind: "What’s Right With Your Life?”. Jonathan essentially asks his readers to focus on what is good in their life, instead of emphasizing what is wrong and needs to be changed Entrepreneurship.

This was a refreshing idea for a personal development blog (as he acknowledged), and it immediately reminded me of my realization earlier this week. But at first read, something didn’t fully click for me. As much as I value appreciating the good that surrounds me, I am also undeniably drawn to striving for change and pushing limits. Is it possible to really appreciate what I have and still strive for something different? I contemplated this for a few minutes, and decided that the two aren’t mutually exclusive. Actually, I’ve lived most of my life so far quite happy wherever I am but still moving, changing, and striving innokin disrupter.

It seems wholly unnatural for human beings to resist change, but change is not necessarily proof that something was wrong with your former situation. Instead, change is an indication that your natural rhythm is not switched off. Appreciating what’s right in your life doesn’t mean that you can’t also appreciate — and strive for — the possibility of change and novelty. In other words, appreciation does not lead to complacency. I decided that Jonathan’s post actually clicked quite well with my perspective innokin disrupter.

In the good spirit of blogging conversations and whatnot, Jonathan tagged me on his meme-hence this post.

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June 14, 2016

volume was published

The volume of Lyrical Ballads, whose first beginnings have here been traced, was published in the autumn of 1798, by Mr. Cottle, at Bristol. This volume contained several poems—which have been justly blamed for triviality,—as The Thorn, Goody Blake, The Idiot Boy; several in which, as in Simon Lee, triviality is mingled with much real pathos; and some, as Expostulation and Reply and The Tables Turned, which are of the very essence of Wordsworth’s nature. It is hardly too much to say, that if these two last-named poems—to the careless eye so slight and trifling—were all that had remained from Wordsworth’s hand, they would have "spoken to the comprehending” of a new individuality, as distinct and unmistakeable in its way as that which Sappho has left engraven on the world for ever in words even fewer than these.

And the volume ended with a poem, which Wordsworth composed in 1798, in one day, during a tour with his sister to Tintern and Chepstow. The Lines written above Tintern Abbey have become, as it were, the locus classicus or consecrated formulary of the Wordsworthian faith. They say in brief what it is the work of the poet’s biographer to say in detail.As soon as this Wordsworth and his sister sailed for Hamburg, in the hope that their imperfect acquaintance with the German language might be improved by the heroic remedy of a winter at Goslar. But at Goslar they do not seem to have made any acquaintances, and their self-improvement consisted mainly in reading German books to themselves.

The four months spent at Goslar, however, were the very bloom of Wordsworth’s poetic career. Through none of his poems has the peculiar loveliness of English scenery and English girlhood shone more delicately than through those which came to him as he paced the frozen gardens of that desolate city. Here it was that he wrote Lucy Gray, and Ruth, and Nutting, and the Poet’s Epitaph, and other poems known now to most men as possessing in its full fragrance his especial charm. And here it was that the memory of some emotion prompted the lines on Lucy. Of the history of that emotion he has told us nothing; I forbear, therefore, to inquire concerning it, or even to speculate. That it was to the poet’s honour I do not doubt; but who ever learned such secrets rightly? Or who should wish to learn Shipping Agent?

It is best to leave the sanctuary of all hearts inviolate, and to respect the reserve not only of the living but of the dead. Of these poems, almost alone, Wordsworth in his autobiographical notes has said nothing whatever. One of them he suppressed for years, and printed only in a later volume. One can, indeed, well imagine that there may be poems which a man may be willing to give to the world only in the hope that their pathos will be, as it were, protected by its own intensity, and that those who are worthiest to comprehend will he least disposed to discuss them Playgroup.

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June 06, 2016

must needs be a Scar

Next Morning he came again, thinking to go about his Business, but found all fast shut still; and though he knock'd often and loud, could make No body hear: He saunter'd about 'till towards Noon, and still it was the same; no Noise was to be heard but the Herds lowing in the Yard for Fodder.

Hereupon he went to the Town, and informed several People of the Matter, who all agreed to take a Constable and some of the best of the Parish, and if they could make No-body hear by knocking, e'en to break open the Gates and Doors, and see what should be the Matter; some conjecturing one thing, some another; but most concluding with the Servant, That the good Man was gone to carry his Rent, and the good Woman fallen into some grievous Fit, if not dead.

In short, They broke open the Gates, and while some went to force the House-Doors, others proceeded to the Barn for Straw to throw into the Cribs, and there they beheld the most amazing Sight imaginable; the Good Man and his Wife both murder'd on the Floor, and two Forks broken! Hereupon, they went towards the House, and passing cross the Yard, they saw the Child's Swath dropt, and when they came into the House, found the Babe in the Cradle, with its Neck wrung behind it. They proceeded then to search the House; The Goods all remain'd; but the Money, and divers Silver Things, as Spoons, Porringers, Cups, and the like, were gone.

Upon due Consideration, they suspected the Labourer, he being no where to be found; Hereupon Hue-and-Cries were sent forth, every way describing his Person, Age, and Cloaths: But all in vain; no News could be heard. The Manner of the Murder, they conjectur'd, was on this wise: That the Labourer was in the Barn, and when the good Man went to give his Beasts Fodder, the Villain fell upon him, and he resisting, caus'd the two Forks to be broke.

The poor Woman sitting in the House with her Child on her Lap, hearing the Noise in the Barn, rose hastily, and clapping the Child in the Cradle, with its Clouts hanging loose about it, ran to the Barn, and dropt the Swath; which was found as aforesaid: And so met her poor Husband's Fate.

Thus Things pass'd without Discovery for Seven Years, all which Time the Villain liv'd beyond Sea. At the Seven Years End, thinking the Matter might be forgot, he came into England, and being a North-country Man, directed his Journey towards Kaxton; And calling at an Alehouse in a Village near that Town to drink and rest himself, it so happen'd, that the Master of the House was Constable at the Time he fled, when the Hue-and Cries were after him; and now, in Seven Years Time, the Office having been round the Village, was come to him again.

By what Spirit or Genius this Constable was inspired, cannot be guess'd; but so it was, he thought this Man answer'd the Character of the Hue-and-Cry which came to his Hands Seven Years before, of which, perhaps, he had the Copy by him; Wherefore, by Virtue of his Office, he seiz'd him, and carry'd him before a Justice, who examin'd and committed him: But the Crime of which he was suspected being committed Southward, near Kaxton, he was conveyed thither to be Try'd; At what Time, there were many Witnesses appear'd to testify that he was the Labourer in that Farmyard, when this Murder was committed; all which he most stedfastly deny'd, protesting, that he never was there in his Life, nor knew the Place. At last, the Servant of that Farm, who knew him very well by his Face and Speech, added one Circumstantial more, saying, That the Man who then thrash'd in the Barn, had a Running-Sore on his Side; which, said he, I have divers times help'd him to dress; so that if the Sore should be heal'd, there.

Hereupon the Part being search'd, and the Scar plainly appearing, he could no longer oppose or deny so manifest a Truth. He was hang'd in Chains by the Road-side near Kaxton; an Example of the most vile Cruelty that could be committed.

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Principle of nature

The bruise on the face does not mean how hurt it is, but the hate from that guy who hit you. Compared to tears, the strike by punching back would be more effective to vent, even though it is risky to be beaten down again. And going back home, out of grievance, the scene is possibly softened to be teary face. The firm and warm shoulder usually is that right shore to pull over. But, it does not always have that luck to find such a shoulder.

On the verge of cliff, the eagle pushes her kids out of nest. They are full of desperation and trying moving back. Some just fall down directly down, others are lucky to be back. Under the influence of gravity, those who fall down in the air, have to struggle for living, and flutter wings that they have never tried before, only in the vision they see their mom flying back with food. The magic plot activates, they survive by hanging over the sky after going back from death. They see their mom again driving away remains of their brothers and sisters. Some successfully learn to fly, some are just to be dead who fail to fly and fall on rigid rocks.

In the vast plain, a large group of buffaloes are migrating. Lions are seeking for their meal. After some trials, they target and chase for their prey. The one hunted by lions sacrifices its valuable life winning precious time for the species migration. The skeleton of that buffalo finally is consumed by wolves and the whole group is safe to march at further adventure. Lions are just napping on comfortable grass in the shade of trees.

A episode of journey brings rich and unexpected memory. A course of painful experience does give the courage to face everything. An unforgettable story surely provides a new perspective to review surroundings. A relationship is quite wonderful so long as there is a lesson can be recorded into mind.

If god does not grant the food, just please, find it by hands. Sometimes, we see something wrong, actually it could be right in the way around to overlook again. If there is no righteousness, just please, fight for it. Thought the world does not stop when a poor life ends up. That is what the real existence being in this land.

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