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Fw: The Daffodil Principle

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amatissimi amatissimi

Michael Bindel

Sunday, January 21, 2007 2:49 PM

Fwd: The Daffodil Principle

 

 

 

Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must come to see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead "I will come next Tuesday", I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

 

Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

"Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another inch!"

My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the time, Mother.Well, you won't get me back on the road until it clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

"But first we're going to see the daffodils. It's just a few blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

 

"Carolyn," I said sternly, "Please turn around.It's all right, Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this experience."

After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand lettered sign with an arrow that read, " Daffodil Garden ." We got out of the car, each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped. Before me lay the most glorious sight.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink, and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

 

"Who did this?" I asked Carolyn. "Just one woman," Carolyn answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

 

On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know You Are Asking", was the headline. The first answer was a simple one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time, by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain." The third answer was, "Began in 1958."

 

For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before, had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil garden taught is one of the

greatest principles of celebration.

 

 

 

That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at a time--often just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the world ...

 

"It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time' through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to achieve!"

 

My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct way. "Start tomorrow," she said.

 

She was right. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use today?"

 

Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting.....

Until your car or home is paid off

Until you get a new car or home

Until your kids leave the house

Until you go back to school

Until you finish school

Until you clean the house

Until you organize the garage

Until you clean off your desk

Until you lose 10 lbs.

Until you gain 10 lbs.

Until you get married

Until you get a divorce

Until you have kids

Until the kids go to school

Until you retire

Until summer

Until spring

Until winter

Until fall

Until you die...

 

There is no better time than right now to be happy.

Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

 

So work like you don't need money, love like you've never been hurt, and, dance like no one's watching. Don't be afraid that your life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

 

 

Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

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, "Michael Bindel"

<michael.bindel wrote:

>

>

> -

> amatissimi amatissimi

> Michael Bindel

> Sunday, January 21, 2007 2:49 PM

> Fwd: The Daffodil Principle

>

>

>

> Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must

come to see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but

it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead "I will come

next Tuesday", I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

>

> Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and

reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's

house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I

delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

> "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these

clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and

these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another

inch!"

> My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the

time, Mother.Well, you won't get me back on the road until it

clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

> "But first we're going to see the daffodils. It's just a few

blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

>

> "Carolyn," I said sternly, "Please turn around.It's all right,

Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this

experience."

> After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and

I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand

lettered sign with an arrow that read, " Daffodil Garden ." We got

out of the car, each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn

down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped.

Before me lay the most glorious sight.

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

> It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and

poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The

flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons

and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink,

and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was

planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own

river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

>

> "Who did this?" I asked Carolyn. "Just one woman," Carolyn

answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn

pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in

the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

>

> On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know

You Are Asking", was the headline. The first answer was a simple

one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time,

by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain." The third answer

was, "Began in 1958."

>

> For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of

this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before,

had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy

to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after

year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she

lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary

magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil

garden taught is one of the

> greatest principles of celebration.

>

>

>

> That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at

a time--often just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the

doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply

tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too

will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the

world ...

>

> "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I

have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five

or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time'

through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to

achieve!"

>

> My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct

way. "Start tomorrow," she said.

>

> She was right. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of

yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead

of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use

today?"

>

> Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting.....

> Until your car or home is paid off

> Until you get a new car or home

> Until your kids leave the house

> Until you go back to school

> Until you finish school

> Until you clean the house

> Until you organize the garage

> Until you clean off your desk

> Until you lose 10 lbs.

> Until you gain 10 lbs.

> Until you get married

> Until you get a divorce

> Until you have kids

> Until the kids go to school

> Until you retire

> Until summer

> Until spring

> Until winter

> Until fall

> Until you die...

>

> There is no better time than right now to be happy.

> Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

>

> So work like you don't need money, love like you've never been

hurt, and, dance like no one's watching. Don't be afraid that your

life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

>

>

> Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

>

 

 

 

Thank you for sharing this beautiful story, Michael. It brought

tears to my eyes.

 

I finally stopped waiting, though in increments, for many years now,

about 2 years ago, I stopped. Period.

 

And I fell into all the beauty and majesty of every principle of

beauty in the world....I had always been a gardener...

 

And so I share one of the result of my gardening here, Dearest

Harsha, Michael and All:

 

 

We Take, We Are

 

 

We take pieces of this and pieces of that

we formulate opinions and formulate formulas

we explain the inexplicable in the passages of light

in the distances of warp and woof

we destroy all that we are in a single night of contemplation--

in the elaboration of pity

in the newborn navel of Being--

we are of destiny's absence--

the scent of brilliant ripe papayas and the

alacrity of Indian sandalwood,

 

we rush headlong into the wonder of moonlight

into beseeching glances

and furtive prayers,

into the bottomless pit of all our fears

 

we resolve the question of how the heart beats in the

metaphysics of why Love still hears our call after all these

inexplicable and raven-winged yearning years,

hounds us like the wolf baying,

we are secrets,

warm in its image and aftertaste

 

we damage ourselves and one another,

we are soft willing and pliable flesh

we rise again like an Ode To The Eastern Sun

we are balanced and absolved by the paltry life

we have long last forsaken,

 

we dream amoung celestial sounds--

the melodies and chanting earth songs of harmony,

we breathe the breath of Lovers--

we swim upwards from a deep eternal kiss,

still clinging wet from the waves and the sea,

 

green-stemmed and flushed,

as delicate as a rose petal….

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Dear Anabebe57

 

thank you so much for your comments and your poem

 

 

in love in Ramana

 

 

michael bindel

 

-

anabebe57

Monday, January 22, 2007 2:22 PM

Re: Fw: The Daffodil Principle

 

 

, "Michael Bindel"

<michael.bindel wrote:

>

>

> -

> amatissimi amatissimi

> Michael Bindel

> Sunday, January 21, 2007 2:49 PM

> Fwd: The Daffodil Principle

>

>

>

> Several times my daughter had telephoned to say, "Mother, you must

come to see the daffodils before they are over." I wanted to go, but

it was a two-hour drive from Laguna to Lake Arrowhead "I will come

next Tuesday", I promised a little reluctantly on her third call.

>

> Next Tuesday dawned cold and rainy. Still, I had promised, and

reluctantly I drove there. When I finally walked into Carolyn's

house I was welcomed by the joyful sounds of happy children. I

delightedly hugged and greeted my grandchildren.

> "Forget the daffodils, Carolyn! The road is invisible in these

clouds and fog, and there is nothing in the world except you and

these children that I want to see badly enough to drive another

inch!"

> My daughter smiled calmly and said, "We drive in this all the

time, Mother.Well, you won't get me back on the road until it

clears, and then I'm heading for home!" I assured her.

> "But first we're going to see the daffodils. It's just a few

blocks," Carolyn said. "I'll drive. I'm used to this."

>

> "Carolyn," I said sternly, "Please turn around.It's all right,

Mother, I promise. You will never forgive yourself if you miss this

experience."

> After about twenty minutes, we turned onto a small gravel road and

I saw a small church. On the far side of the church, I saw a hand

lettered sign with an arrow that read, " Daffodil Garden ." We got

out of the car, each took a child's hand, and I followed Carolyn

down the path. Then, as we turned a corner, I looked up and gasped.

Before me lay the most glorious sight.

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

>

> It looked as though someone had taken a great vat of gold and

poured it over the mountain peak and its surrounding slopes. The

flowers were planted in majestic, swirling patterns, great ribbons

and swaths of deep orange, creamy white, lemon yellow, salmon pink,

and saffron and butter yellow. Each different-colored variety was

planted in large groups so that it swirled and flowed like its own

river with its own unique hue. There were five acres of flowers.

>

> "Who did this?" I asked Carolyn. "Just one woman," Carolyn

answered. "She lives on the property. That's her home." Carolyn

pointed to a well-kept A-frame house, small and modestly sitting in

the midst of all that glory. We walked up to the house.

>

> On the patio, we saw a poster. "Answers to the Questions I Know

You Are Asking", was the headline. The first answer was a simple

one. "50,000 bulbs," it read. The second answer was, "One at a time,

by one woman. Two hands, two feet, and one brain." The third answer

was, "Began in 1958."

>

> For me, that moment was a life-changing experience. I thought of

this woman whom I had never met, who, more than forty years before,

had begun, one bulb at a time, to bring her vision of beauty and joy

to an obscure mountaintop. Planting one bulb at a time, year after

year, this unknown woman had forever changed the world in which she

lived. One day at a time, she had created something of extraordinary

magnificence, beauty, and inspiration. The principle her daffodil

garden taught is one of the

> greatest principles of celebration.

>

>

>

> That is, learning to move toward our goals and desires one step at

a time--often just one baby-step at time--and learning to love the

doing, learning to use the accumulation of time. When we multiply

tiny pieces of time with small increments of daily effort, we too

will find we can accomplish magnificent things. We can change the

world ...

>

> "It makes me sad in a way," I admitted to Carolyn. "What might I

have accomplished if I had thought of a wonderful goal thirty-five

or forty years ago and had worked away at it 'one bulb at a time'

through all those years? Just think what I might have been able to

achieve!"

>

> My daughter summed up the message of the day in her usual direct

way. "Start tomorrow," she said.

>

> She was right. It's so pointless to think of the lost hours of

yesterdays. The way to make learning a lesson of celebration instead

of a cause for regret is to only ask, "How can I put this to use

today?"

>

> Use the Daffodil Principle. Stop waiting.....

> Until your car or home is paid off

> Until you get a new car or home

> Until your kids leave the house

> Until you go back to school

> Until you finish school

> Until you clean the house

> Until you organize the garage

> Until you clean off your desk

> Until you lose 10 lbs.

> Until you gain 10 lbs.

> Until you get married

> Until you get a divorce

> Until you have kids

> Until the kids go to school

> Until you retire

> Until summer

> Until spring

> Until winter

> Until fall

> Until you die...

>

> There is no better time than right now to be happy.

> Happiness is a journey, not a destination.

>

> So work like you don't need money, love like you've never been

hurt, and, dance like no one's watching. Don't be afraid that your

life will end, be afraid that it will never begin.

>

>

> Wishing you a beautiful, daffodil day!

>

 

Thank you for sharing this beautiful story, Michael. It brought

tears to my eyes.

 

I finally stopped waiting, though in increments, for many years now,

about 2 years ago, I stopped. Period.

 

And I fell into all the beauty and majesty of every principle of

beauty in the world....I had always been a gardener...

 

And so I share one of the result of my gardening here, Dearest

Harsha, Michael and All:

 

We Take, We Are

 

We take pieces of this and pieces of that

we formulate opinions and formulate formulas

we explain the inexplicable in the passages of light

in the distances of warp and woof

we destroy all that we are in a single night of contemplation--

in the elaboration of pity

in the newborn navel of Being--

we are of destiny's absence--

the scent of brilliant ripe papayas and the

alacrity of Indian sandalwood,

 

we rush headlong into the wonder of moonlight

into beseeching glances

and furtive prayers,

into the bottomless pit of all our fears

 

we resolve the question of how the heart beats in the

metaphysics of why Love still hears our call after all these

inexplicable and raven-winged yearning years,

hounds us like the wolf baying,

we are secrets,

warm in its image and aftertaste

 

we damage ourselves and one another,

we are soft willing and pliable flesh

we rise again like an Ode To The Eastern Sun

we are balanced and absolved by the paltry life

we have long last forsaken,

 

we dream amoung celestial sounds--

the melodies and chanting earth songs of harmony,

we breathe the breath of Lovers--

we swim upwards from a deep eternal kiss,

still clinging wet from the waves and the sea,

 

green-stemmed and flushed,

as delicate as a rose petal..

 

 

 

 

__________ Informazione NOD32 1995 (20070121) __________

 

Questo messaggio è stato controllato dal Sistema Antivirus NOD32

http://www.nod32.it

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