The Clown By Burt Goldman One moment my friend. Do not let my makeup deceive you. The face I show to the world represents your reality, not mine. My countenance reflects your beliefs, not mine. You think me sad? Watch, I paint the corners of my mouth downward. A stroke at the corner of the eye, a slash here, a line there; nothing could be simpler. And there you have it; mystery. The happy, the lonely, the deceived, the disturbed, the hiders and the seekers, the finders and the weepers; all are here in the confines of my paint box. Here you will find the elation of success, the depression of defeat; the robust laugh of happiness as well as the cry of the weary. Life, as you know it, is a tale, only that; nothing more. Told by…? Well some have a philosopher crying out their story. You? Well now, you are honored to have a clown. Let us begin the day. First allow me to draw a straight line from the left corner of the mouth to the right. No curves or triangles yet, no banana shaped oblongs or rectangular spots. We start in neutral. What would you have me paint now that we have started? A grimace? A smile? You’re the director, you’re the artist. See, I hold the pencil so. How will it go; up or down? You hesitate. You cannot decide. What’s that? You want me to help you? But how can I help? I am just a dash of paint, a brush, a bit of fluff at your disposal. You are the life. The power is within you. But it’s of no use whatever if you don’t use it. So, plant your feet, push the door, pull the rope, hit the button, throw the switch, breathe, articulate; paint. Do it, now! I detect hesitation. Here, let me help; see, I pick up the brush, I dip it into the paint. I hold it to my face. Command me! Which way do I apply the material, in what direction does it go? Aha! You have made a decision. You want to take a positive view; to see the sparkle, the joy, the unfolding. Nothing could be simpler. Watch; a stroke here, a dot there, a line, a twinkle, and we’ve done it—we’ve created a new belief, a change in attitude. Now then what was it that was of such concern? Where is your trouble? Where is your problem? Where is the dilemma? It was a tale, only that; it signified—nothing. The power was always, and only, within you. Me? I’ll leave for awhile, but I’ll be back. Paint box, brush, and all. How do you reach me? Easily. Just close your eyes, imagine I’m with you, and I will be. Who am I? But don’t you know? Come with me, over here. This way. Ah there it is. Look, you can see me right there. Yes, that’s right, directly ahead; over there; in the mirror. My new website, in case you haven’t seen it is: burtgoldmanmethod Enjoy, Burt
Posted on: Fri, 12 Sep 2014 16:24:02 +0000
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