"Motivational Speaking" is a fancy pants re-naming of a much older tradition, if you asked me. So, who asked? Uh, I guess I did? Imagine with me, an "industry"; in the which we view "stars", or even occasionally "super-stars". Such stellar persons as all that, are remunerated handsomely indeed, for the "tough job", (the trench digging we mean?) of... uhm talking to crowds? It's kinda like that!
Nowadays, we are fixated with "stardom". F'r instance, we lavishly furnish small parks, financed by tax dollars, in which committees of millionaires play "grab-ass". I'm guessing here, that the real money involved is network dollars, but let us not forget the humble cottage industry, of product lines, devoted to same. So, the next time you spot a Dixon, or a Jamison emblazoned upon said "star's" number, at Albertson's; upon an "official" NFL jersey, don't be fooled! You needn't say to yourself in that moment: "Gee, I always thought Dixon stood 6'3", and was black? Who knew he was 5'8", hispanic, and skinny? I suppose television must make them look larger?". That entire line of surmising is off-base, I'd say. . .
That much, thus established then, we blaze onward! The industry of talking for a living, has an ancient name, i.e., "preaching". And, nowadays, that job title, just hasn't quite the social punch, the "jazz"; it may once have borne? Preaching, is nowadays a fem sport, kinda soft-squishy, ya know? The whole gig works out as a guy (we hope?) who specializes in being "safe" to be around, a type of professionally "encouraging" (minus courage we prefer) cat. They wear absurdly large crosses around, and appear only in business suits? I don't know, maybe I'm being a little tough on them here? What do you think?
Well, cutting to the chase somewhat here, and actually discussing our topic some, we pay people to get us all excited, and maybe feel a little better for a couple of weeks. And so, let us all bow down for a moment, and give thanks to almighty Google for providing free (!) blog-a-thon-ery, such that goofs and amateurs (like some we could think of) can "vent". That is to say, I can be a "micro-star" and somebody else is footing the bill! Thus, we blaze onward!
Motivational yakking has a tool box. At some point, it is nearly inevitable that the toothy son of a gun is going to work around to that mess in us of "goal setting". I don't know about you, but that historically, this is when I begin to study the ceiling tiles. "Goals? Don't start, just don't go there Mike", I assume you just now thought? At minimum, normally; I would have. Contractually then, as a member of the amateur mote crew, I must inquire of you, "Friend, what is your life's goal? What, in ten or twenty years is the "place" you'd very much like to be "at". Personally; I strongly dislike for some inane reason, the prefacing query of "What would it look-like if. . ." and so, I shall not say that, but you get the spin here?
For years, no that's not it, for decades, this was a huge blind spot for me. I appeared to be fundamentally unable to "just get" the big idea in question. A bit like being a skinny 7th grader, being in the locker room, at the wrong time? The testosterone laced bully, has the the guy pinned up against a wall. "Tell me little man, what ...do you want?". Who? Me? You're thinking of my evil twin brother! It's Frank you want! Let me go get him for you? Okay, well we wax cartoonish here, but that one is in my tool bag!
The whole set of assertions on this front, never did "file" very well for me. What do you mean Mr. bully? How's about you quit talking smack, and speak English. . . maybe. Uh, I "desire" you to vaporize? Is that what you meant? I desire to eat a decent breakfast burrito some time this month? You get my drift.
As a budding young Calvinist, back in my twenties, and thirties, as a matter of fact, it was "Yes, I do have all the answers. . . and if you don't believe me, just ask me a hard Bible type question!". Yes, I'm sad to say, this slender gruel was "enough" for me. For years? We, the Reformed, are basically delusional somewhere, in these here parts. Do we actually imagine that if we file in our crania enough "answers", anybody is ever going to "inquire"? Get over it already. John Calvin had the world's cheapest press agent...himself! Today, if a fellow runs out of epithets to hurl, he can always dredge up "fundy", or worse, "Bible thumper". If he is profoundly pissed, he just might drag out the heavy cannon and firmly declare you a "C-vist". Horrors. Then there are the more depressing aspects of the ghetto to visit?
When Mr. Almighty found me, he found me with (metaphorically) the noose about my neck. Honestly, I was unable to think of one good reason to live on. The M.S. tool box mention of "life is good" I found to be just weird. Uh, what part. . . exactly? Was it sex, or something? The only thing I was really aware of, was that if I checked myself out, it would break Mom's heart, and I just couldn't! Not much of a "reason" to live; eh? But, it did give me time, and that was crucial. She was real sick anyhow, and the upside was that I'd only have to wait few more years? How cheery, how downright optimistic of me!
The only other thing was this. Logic killed suicide! Mr. A appeared to be "saying" (no 'voices' for me please?) "So, dig this pee-wee. If indeed you are as bad as you think, and who am I to disagree after all, and you "deserve" to just quit, and get out; then listen up! If you really are "that bad" at this life thing, and such a serial failure as you seem to be saying, then (among other things) you are also. . . a bad judge!". Enough with voices already! So, my judgement is being thrown out of court upon the flimsy premise that I've said the truth? I am there-by appealing, even if I don't want to? Swell, that's just wonderful, I'm so excited? Things waxed a tad depressing after that.
I lived on. I did not appear to actually require a ''goal" in life, I just needed some air, a bite of food now and again, beer, uhm lot's of beer? A smidge of gravity, a little sleep, and maybe an old burlap bag or something, so's I can go out in public to get groceries? But, it wasn't so very encouraging and vital as all that. Finally, the Bully had me pinned one day, when I was in my mid-thirties somewhere. Dear Sis Polly was dying of cancer, and I was mad at A. . . again? One day, Mr. beer "helped me to say" in my "daily devotional", You wanna know what I want out of life? I'll tell you! What I want out of life, is, I want-out-of-life! Show me the exit sign already! I personally thought it a devastating repartee. Frankly, I win the argument! Yeah me? And that basic "revelation" was "good 'nuf" for this loser. I say the discussion is over. Don't dredge it up again eh? But it wasn't exactly as charitable and humble as I'm making it appear here.
Maybe the best movie I've seen is "Little Big Man". I especially enjoyed the heart-broken "contrary" in the flick. But, overall, it's just a great show, even if it does have Bob Dylan, oops, I mean Dustin Hoffman as the lead. A close second is "City Slickers". That funny little guy; Crystal was okay, the plot pretty thin, but the "star" is Palance. I hate to say a movie changed my life, and so I won't. But, it almost did?
Sonny, you gotta find the "one thing". That's great gramps, thanks for sharing, and incidentally, what in honking hades are you talking about? Okay, that's the fast motion version over here? But, finally "me" did! I asked me, "Hey me, what by the by, is your one thing?". Maybe in my mid-forties I asked? Don't recall dates well, birthdays, anniversaries and such, are a null set in my book,but it's an okay guess maybe? Perhaps several years later was it? The "me" in question finally coughed it up! By the way, could we get a head count? How many of us are in here?
I WANT. . . JUSTICE! Not fairness, that's fem-speak. I mean, I want the Almighty to do His damned job for a change! How's about You come down here, and either fix things, or just scrap it? What is "in it" for You anyway, to allow this nut-case rebellion to continue on down here? Do. . . Your job! There, I said it.
So, nowadays; I want to see Jesus Christ the righteous, standing up, alive and well, all glowy and ferocious, surrounded by an glad army of holy berserkers, and Him tearing this sucker down! I don't care if I survive that wreckage personally. What difference would that make? No, it would just absolutely rock balls to live long enough, to see that day, when He "rolls up His sleeve"; and produces that king-sized war hammer, I've been so admiring. . . So now, who's the testosterone laced bully around here Mack? Kinda manic huh?
Anyhow, back in reality-ville for the nonce, I had, in that day; for the first time in my chipper and flippant little life gig a serious goal? Ain't that sumpum?
I tell you today, I have a goal! I wanna hang tough, eat real healthy, and listen to Mr. Spock. I now fully intend to "Live long, and prosper"! I wanna be Mr. geez-meister extraordinare, Mr. old age Inc.! Why? To see, with these eyes, the bumper sticker version of the Apocalypse of John, i.e., "God, with His big-hairy hammer wins...in one awesome knockout blow!". For the me in question, everything else in this life, is formatted as "page 2" in my book. Stupid luxuries, vacations nobody really likes, retirement, kids, wife, tons of money? You can have that stuff, I don't care. Instead, I want to see "something".
That's all. And for me, surprisingly enough; this type of weeding of "desire" is "normal"? Did I mention some folk think Calvinists are a bit "off" yet? Okay, I can live with that.
Of late, my "desire' is formatting off of that base, and I am ending letters with "Run to Win!". Gosh, does that make me an "official" motivational speaker these days? Alternately, I am ending with; "Peace. . . FURIOUSLY! be unto you, and yours!". Nowadays, I've sobered up. I mean it now. The "eggs" part of the title, is spanglish humor. I mean by it,"con huevos". It was good MEN to whom the gospel was entrusted, and thus it remains. Uhm, not to put too fine a point on it, but them guys gots boy-parts. It matters, it really does! Trust me here, I intend us good.
Life is good. Real good!