When it comes to violins, the Stradivarius has no equal. Their value can go into the $10-million range and to have one in my hands would be against the laws of the universe. Unless I hit my head and wake up a virtuoso, I will never master that kind of skill. No violin will make … Continue reading A Samurai Without a Sword is Still a Damn Samurai: 7 Reasons Why
“So Rob, tell me; are you a God-fearing man?” Almost twenty years ago in Nashville, I was having lunch with one of my rep agencies. There were about eight of us. When my salad came, I began to eat it while conversing with the group. As their salads came, they waited for everyone to get … Continue reading The Threat of Heaven and the Promise of Hell
“I try. I try to be a righteous man. I try to give love all over the world. But I’m tired of being used!” – Charles Bradley: Ain’t It a Sin Such passion that you know came from a hard-earned life. The Screaming Eagle of Soul passed away just two years ago and way too early. May he … Continue reading How to Be a Yogi Without Being a Chump
My apologies. I know I'm taking a risk here, but I posted this the other day and then I took it down. I'm torn. I want to leave the past in the past and so I thought I'd put it out there and let it go, but then I thought, by putting it out there, … Continue reading I See Human Beings
One night, in Yoga Teacher Training, our instructor took us through meditation. Nothing unusual, but this time, we were to go back and meet our childhood selves as we are right now. I never thought of doing this before and I thought, “Oh, this will be a fun experiment.” Maybe, I’d give him a high-five … Continue reading That Time I Met My Childhood Self
I was watching an episode of The Story of God with Morgan Freeman recently, and he was talking with a religion scholar about good and evil. The scholar went on to say that we need the belief of the devil or hell as a deterrent to evil behavior. As if we need a threat to … Continue reading Am I Worthy of My Soul?
Pure driven snow looks almost perfect, but with one set of footprints, it becomes a story; something more. The snow is no longer “perfect”, but somehow it’s even better. The darkness is appreciated for the light. The good is better, because of a touch of bad. The blank canvas becomes art with the first splatter … Continue reading Wabi Sabi
