I liked this parable : Mathew 13

The Parable of the Sower (sometimes called the Parable of the Soils) is a parable of Jesusfound in the three Synoptic Gospels in Matthew 13:1-23, Mark 4:1-20, and Luke 8:4-15.

In the story, a sower sows seed and does so indiscriminately. Some seed falls on the path (wayside) with no soil, some on rocky ground with little soil, and some on soil which contained thorns. In these cases the seed is taken away or fails to produce a crop, but when it falls on good soil it grows, yielding thirty, sixty, or a hundredfold.

Jesus then (only in the presence of his disciples) explains that the seed represents the Gospel (the sower being anyone who proclaims it), and the various soils represent people’s responses to it (the first three representing rejection while the last represents acceptance.

I’m a gardener Mentor. I try and die the seeds to make Dreams grow into ambitions, translating into Vision, mission, goals, objectives, action plans, biz, marketing plans etal.

In my efforts, sometimes I come across very distressed mentees. I have to work on making the soil good as they have rocky soil of past bad experiences, thorny soil which does not allow seeds to germinate, or find soil. I spend 5, 13, 26, 52 weeks depending upon the STATE, and SITUATION.

I Sometimes come across Sand, silt or clay land or simply rocky land. Rarely I find delta land ( usualy in C Suite execs) which is fertile . Each gets a different mentor treatment.

It works. There are failures too. As the mentorees stop responding and throw seeds on footpath – it is eaten by birds and pigeons.

In one case, after sowing 150 revenue ideas and rigorously, tilling the land I found failure. I decided to move on. As the farmer/ mentoree just did not understand and allowed my gardening efforts fail.

Sad but true! It happens.

Gardener then moves on too…

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The Living – An Original Song by Jay Parkhe

The Living

By Jay

An Original Song

I get on with life as a princess,
I’m a smelly kinda person.
I like singing in a choir and breeding guppies.
I like to contemplate the living.
But when I start to daydream,
My mind turns straight to the dead.

Oh oh oh!

Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,
I notice the way I think about the dead with a smile,
Curved lips I just can’t disguise.
But I think it’s the living making my life worthwhile.
Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?
The Living or…
The Dead?

I like to use words like ‘crikey’ and ‘twizzle.’
I like to use words about the living.
But when I stop my talking,
My mind turns straight to the dead.

Oh oh oh!

Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,
I notice the way I think about the dead with a smile,
Curved lips I just can’t disguise.
But I think it’s the living making my life worthwhile.
Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?
The Living or…
The Dead?

I like to hang out with Wily and Will.
But when left alone,
My mind turns straight to the dead.

Oh oh oh!

Sometimes I look at myself and I look into my eyes,
I notice the way I think about the dead with a smile,
Curved lips I just can’t disguise.
But I think it’s the living making my life worthwhile.
Why is it so hard for me to decide which I love more?
The Living or…
The Dead?

I hate losing card games and headless chickens.
But I just think back to the dead,
And I’m happy once again.

Oh oh oh!

Wild Jay A Short Story by Jay

I have decided to become a Story Writer and a Story TI have decided to become a Story Writer and a Story Teller going forward. The Udemy Course was very useful so was this Story Generator. See what it produced. Wonderful nO?

I did some edits here and there to keep the flow and continuity.

Jay was thinking about Goji Berry again. Goji was an arrogant queen with brunette hair and sticky fingers, slimey, limp palms and pursed lips.
Jay walked over to the window and reflected on his pig in the mud surroundings. He had always hated snake burrow The Earth with its united, as he uninterested in what is under the earth. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel calm.
Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an arrogant figure of Goji Berry.
Jay gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a wild, ruthless, whiskey drinker with ginger fingers and pouting lips. His friends saw him as an arrogant, anxious author. Once, he had even saved a tight old man that was stuck in a drain.
But not even a wild person who had once saved a tight old man that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Goji had in store today.
The clouds danced like bopping snakes, making Jay irritable. Jay grabbed a bendy rock that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his hurt fingers. He had caused the self hurt.
As Jay stepped outside and Goji came closer, he could see the outstanding glint in her eye.
“I am here because I want Apology,” Goji bellowed, in a sinister tone. She slammed her fist against Jay’s chest, with the force of 8735 humming birds. “I frigging hate you, Jay .”
Jay looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the bendy rock. “Goji, I am your Foster Father,” he replied.
They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two thundering, thoughtful tortoises rampaging at a very tactless accident, which had jazz music playing in the background and two vile uncles talking to the beat.
Jay studied Goji’s brunette hair and his hurt fingers and the pursed lips. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you Apology,” he explained, in pitying tones.
Goji looked angry, her body raw like a glorious, good gun.
Jay could actually hear Goji’s body shatter into 6000 pieces. Then the arrogant queen hurried away into the distance.
Not even a glass of whiskey would calm Jay’s nerves tonight.

THE END
#Storyteller, storywriter, #mentor #pigfight #snakes #tortoises #mentoring #Mentoring fun #Jay #Jaymentoreller going forward. The Udemy Course was very useful so was this Story Generator. See what it produced.  Wonderful nO?

I did some edits here and there to keep the flow and continuity.

 

Jay was thinking about Goji Berry again. Goji was an arrogant queen with brunette hair and sticky fingers, slimey, limp palms and pursed lips.

Jay walked over to the window and reflected on his pig in the mud surroundings. He had always hated snake burrow The Earth with its united, as he uninterested in what is under the earth. It was a place that encouraged his tendency to feel calm.

Then he saw something in the distance, or rather someone. It was the an arrogant figure of Goji Berry.

Jay gulped. He glanced at his own reflection. He was a wild, ruthless, whiskey drinker with ginger fingers and pouting lips. His friends saw him as an arrogant, anxious author. Once, he had even saved a tight old man that was stuck in a drain.

But not even a wild person who had once saved a tight old man that was stuck in a drain, was prepared for what Goji had in store today.

The clouds danced like bopping snakes, making Jay irritable. Jay grabbed a bendy rock that had been strewn nearby; he massaged it with his hurt fingers. He had caused the self hurt.

As Jay stepped outside and Goji came closer, he could see the outstanding glint in her eye.

“I am here because I want Apology,” Goji bellowed, in a sinister tone. She slammed her fist against Jay’s chest, with the force of 8735 humming birds. “I frigging hate you, Jay .”

Jay looked back, even more irritable and still fingering the bendy rock. “Goji, I am your Foster Father,” he replied.

They looked at each other with cross feelings, like two thundering, thoughtful tortoises rampaging at a very tactless accident, which had jazz music playing in the background and two vile uncles talking to the beat.

Jay studied Goji’s brunette hair and his hurt fingers and the pursed lips. Eventually, he took a deep breath. “I’m sorry, but I can’t give you Apology,” he explained, in pitying tones.

Goji looked angry, her body raw like a glorious, good gun.

Jay could actually hear Goji’s body shatter into 6000 pieces. Then the arrogant queen hurried away into the distance.

Not even a glass of whiskey would calm Jay’s nerves tonight.

 

THE END

#Storyteller, storywriter, #mentor #pigfight #snakes #tortoises #mentoring #Mentoring fun #Jay #Jaymentor

Some Surreal Definitions and Diet / Weight control

Definition:

Coffee:  a heavier-than-air aircraft kept aloft by the upward thrust exerted by the passing air on its fixed wings and driven by propellers, jet propulsion, etc.
Sea:  an electronic device designed to accept data, perform prescribed mathematical and logical operations at high speed, and display the results of these operations.
 
Enemy:  any of the wild or cultivated, usually prickly-stemmed, pinnate-leaved, showy-flowered shrubs of the genus Rosa.
Nihilism:  an article of furniture consisting of a flat, slablike top supported on one or more legs or other supports.
Computer:  any warm-blooded vertebrate of the class Aves, having a body covered with feathers, forelimbs modified into wings, scaly legs, a beak, and no teeth, and bearing young in a hard-shelled egg.

Friedrich Nietzsche On The Secret Ingredient For Happiness

The idea that happiness-maximization is the criterion one should use in deciding what to do and how to act has probably been the most popular ethical view throughout history.

In opposition, Nietzsche insists that happiness should not be your goal.

For example, in his magnum opus — Thus Spoke Zarathustra — his protagonist declares:

“Do I strive after happiness? [No,] I strive after my works!”
And in Twilight of the Idols, he explicitly states that:

“Man [should] not strive after happiness.”
At this point, any philosopher worth his salt asks: “But what exactly does Nietzsche mean when he says these things?”

via Friedrich Nietzsche On The Secret Ingredient For Happiness

I was very proud of my nickname throughout my life – What’s in a Name?

I was very proud of

my nickname

throughout my life,

but today-

I couldn’t be any different

to what my nickname was.

She told me she won’t use

my nickname again

It so happened,

I said Let me help you with

your baggage and bagasse’

and let’s throw this

into the Sky

with all our might.

But he was too short

to see over the fence.

A song such as this

could make or ruin

a person’s day

if one lets it get to us.

She did her best to help him.

and checked to make sure

that I was still alive and

The mysterious diary

recorded the voice.

but today-

I couldn’t be any different

to what my nickname was.

When I was little

I had a car door slammed shut

on my hand.

I still remember it

quite vividly.

but today-

I couldn’t be any different

to what my nickname was.

The shooter said goodbye to his love.

My Nick Name – WAS – JAYA 🙂

AND Now I know what’s in a Name anyway?

 

 

Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

Dealing with perceptions

in my mind’s eyes

hoping against hope

my presuppositions

my cognitive bias

my hyper criticism brutally

and honestly delivered

Reacted fiercely

Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

Interpreted differently

Forgetting all the time

There could be another way

May be it means something else

Meanings, judgements passed

Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

Forgetting our Being Human!

The tendencies to err

To become ruthless

Behave unnaturally with vengeance

Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

In the meaningless repetitive

Arguments to prove us Right

Leaving sanity, wisdom

Ignoring subtle visible facts

Getting self centred

Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

To prove I’m always right

No remorse, no feelings and

Emotions towards others

No empathy no sympathy

Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

Being mean before we know it

Mean machines we become

And wonder

Mean machine or

Meaning making Machine –

who am I ?

Is that me?

Who have I become

A Moron, a sadist

A masochist

Or just Mean machine or Meaning making Machine – who am I ?

(Writing poetry after many years! It needs a deep provocation, a shining up a mentors huge stick! And it just flowed)