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Photo by Peter Lewicki on Unsplash

I am not the same person I used to be

We play so many different roles on the stage of life

One of the first things that happens when you are examining or adjusting the lenses or filters that focus, obscure or distort our view of reality, is a realization that what we once thought as foundational and sacred has been altered, and our ideas about what is true and real shift slightly. When that happens, we react either with fear or with curiosity, depending on how much those ideas are integrated into our identities.

The Power to Effect Change

Why would children want to learn language? They understand that language gives them abilities to effect, manipulate, and control their environments to better suit their needs.

Maturity

Just because I am older, does that make me wiser? Not necessarily. One would hope that over time, people become wise through experience. But, many of us are stilling learning from our mistakes. Often, we just repeat them.

Sarah Silverman

Sarah Silverman on humanity, politics, neighbours and love.

What are we? Kids plus time.

I am right next to Mr. Rogers. I couldn’t believe it that forever I get to be his neighbour.

He is the one who taught me that I am the only one qualified to be me, and I deserve love just as I am.

Life is Consciousness

What do I have to teach you? I don’t know. I may not have anything to teach you. It depends. What do you want to learn?

Silence

Or, we can watch this video where Natalie Portman and Yuval Noah Harari converse about the nature of stories, cooperation and conceptions of reality.

Stream of Consciousness

Life as Metaphor

Your Brain Doesn’t Contain Memories. It Is Memories

Every Time We Remember, We Rewrite Our Memories

The World Stage

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players;
They have their exits and their entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first, the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then the whining schoolboy, with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice,
In fair round belly with good capon lined,
With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws and modern instances;
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slippered pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose and pouch on side;
His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again toward childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Written by

Designer, writer, educator, social architect, founder, Builders Collective, Leading with Design. https://stephenbau.com

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