스크랩
엄청비싼공짜
bukook
2011. 11. 25. 12:38
Giving Thanks
Of the many execrable things that happen to you when you approach 60, the recognition of mortality is the worst. You can't avoid it. People you know – even friends and family members – are seriously sick or dying.
I see death is a hateful thief. I know he will steal life from me eventually, but I don't want him to come any time soon. There is too much I want to do. Too many goals I have yet to reach. And too many relationships I want to enjoy.
You probably feel the same way.
There is a book called The Denial of Death. It makes the case (a convincing one) that, in order to go forward with our lives, we must keep death out of mind because of the fear of nonexistence.
If you have ever contemplated the end of your being, you will find this argument compelling.
We must believe in our vitality if we are to have any. Success in the material world requires it.
We are here to succeed in living. And that means believing the impossible – that we can do all things and live forever.
That is the feeling I want you to have. But it's not always possible. When your friend walks into the room looking like a skeleton in clothes (his flesh thin, his eyes bulging), the doors of depression unlock.
A colleague told me his former partner has lung cancer. "I've known him since high school," he said. "We played on the same team, we dated some of the same girls, and we built a business together. But now he's dying and I can't do anything about it."
"So how does it make you feel?" I asked.
"It makes me sad, but in some ways it's been good for me," he said. "I wake up every morning and say, 'I'm alive! I'm healthy! Thank you! Thank you!' I get a scratch on my new car. Who cares? My next door neighbor is a jerk. So what?"
That made a lot of sense to me.
Facing the inevitability of death changes your perspective.
Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It...
By Michael Masterson
어느 날 사무실 문이 열리며 아주 가까운 친구가 들어 선다. 옷만 걸친 해골이다.
곧 죽는단다. 더 이상은 살 수가 없단다. 마지막으로 얼굴 한 번 보러 왔단다.
학교 동기동창 한 반의 단짝이었고 우린 ㄱ샅은 팀으로 운돌ㅇ을했었고
한 여학생을 동시에 서로 사랑하고 데이트를 즐겼고 동업도 했었다.
그런데 그가 그는 지금 죽어가고 있단다.
죽음은 우리의 살ㄴ을 송두리채 앗아가는 절도요 강도요 도둑이다.
우린 이 땅에 쇼ㅓㅇ공하기 위해 왔었고 오늘도 우리의 삶을 성공으로 이끌기 위해 부단의 노력을하고 있다. 성공의 절대 필요 조건은 존재다. 그 모든 것이 다 있다해도 내 존재가 없다면 성공은 결코 일어나지 아농는다. 아침에 눈을 뜨며 기지게를 켜며 침대에서 일어나며 살아 있음에 감사한 적이 있었던가. 건거강하게 건강한 아침을 맞음에 감사한 적이 있었던가
공짜로 주어지는 공기. 아무런 댓가도 요구하지 않고 그냥 무진장으로 주어지는 햇볕 ...,이런 것들에 어느 한 번 감사한 적이 있었던가. 우주창조주God조물주신은 감사의 마음, 감사의 태도, 감사의...,를 원하고 있다, 속내를알고 있다. 진정어린 그 감사 위에 더 많은 감사를 주려고 오늘도 지금 이 순간도 성공을 위한 더 많은 것을솓아부으려고 한아름 안고 있다.
사라진 잡스보다 단지 존재하는 그대, 단지 살아있는 그대에게 창조주우주God조물주신은 더 큰 위대한 가치를 부여하고 있다,
Of the many execrable things that happen to you when you approach 60, the recognition of mortality is the worst. You can't avoid it. People you know – even friends and family members – are seriously sick or dying.
I see death is a hateful thief. I know he will steal life from me eventually, but I don't want him to come any time soon. There is too much I want to do. Too many goals I have yet to reach. And too many relationships I want to enjoy.
You probably feel the same way.
There is a book called The Denial of Death. It makes the case (a convincing one) that, in order to go forward with our lives, we must keep death out of mind because of the fear of nonexistence.
If you have ever contemplated the end of your being, you will find this argument compelling.
We must believe in our vitality if we are to have any. Success in the material world requires it.
We are here to succeed in living. And that means believing the impossible – that we can do all things and live forever.
That is the feeling I want you to have. But it's not always possible. When your friend walks into the room looking like a skeleton in clothes (his flesh thin, his eyes bulging), the doors of depression unlock.
A colleague told me his former partner has lung cancer. "I've known him since high school," he said. "We played on the same team, we dated some of the same girls, and we built a business together. But now he's dying and I can't do anything about it."
"So how does it make you feel?" I asked.
"It makes me sad, but in some ways it's been good for me," he said. "I wake up every morning and say, 'I'm alive! I'm healthy! Thank you! Thank you!' I get a scratch on my new car. Who cares? My next door neighbor is a jerk. So what?"
That made a lot of sense to me.
Facing the inevitability of death changes your perspective.
Your Mission, Should You Choose to Accept It...
This is Thanksgiving week. If you ask the typical American what Thanksgiving is about, he'll mention food and friends and football. But not thankfulness. Nobody takes that part of the holiday too seriously.
You should. It will make your life better. It will slow things down and bring what's important into focus. It will give you both energy and tranquility.
Here are three ways to do it:
1. Spend 15 minutes by yourself.
Take a walk. Find a peaceful place. Breathe slowly. Look around. Recognize that one day – sooner than you can believe – you will not exist any more. You will not be around to breathe the clean air, feel the sun on your skin, and see the things you find beautiful. You will not be around to hear the sound of your lover's sigh, your children's voices, and your best friend's laughter.
Try to get, as clearly as you can, a sense of your own mortality. Try to stop, if only for a few moments, a fundamental aspect of consciousness – the denial of death.
2. Think about all the things you should be thankful for.
These are things you might have forgotten. But accepting your mortality should bring them back into focus. If you are healthy, that will probably be high on your list. If you have friends and family members you care about, they will be up there too. If you have had material success, you may put that on your list too – but certainly beneath health, family, and friendship.
3. Make a resolution that, from now on you will spend a moment every day contemplating your mortality and then waking up to your life and all the blessings you can enjoy while you are living.
"Gratitude," said Cicero, "is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others."
Think about it...
(This essay was originally published on November 23, 2009.)
You should. It will make your life better. It will slow things down and bring what's important into focus. It will give you both energy and tranquility.
Here are three ways to do it:
1. Spend 15 minutes by yourself.
Take a walk. Find a peaceful place. Breathe slowly. Look around. Recognize that one day – sooner than you can believe – you will not exist any more. You will not be around to breathe the clean air, feel the sun on your skin, and see the things you find beautiful. You will not be around to hear the sound of your lover's sigh, your children's voices, and your best friend's laughter.
Try to get, as clearly as you can, a sense of your own mortality. Try to stop, if only for a few moments, a fundamental aspect of consciousness – the denial of death.
2. Think about all the things you should be thankful for.
These are things you might have forgotten. But accepting your mortality should bring them back into focus. If you are healthy, that will probably be high on your list. If you have friends and family members you care about, they will be up there too. If you have had material success, you may put that on your list too – but certainly beneath health, family, and friendship.
3. Make a resolution that, from now on you will spend a moment every day contemplating your mortality and then waking up to your life and all the blessings you can enjoy while you are living.
"Gratitude," said Cicero, "is not only the greatest of virtues, but the parent of all the others."
Think about it...
(This essay was originally published on November 23, 2009.)