What is Charisma?

Charisma is separate from your personality style, if as according to definition and the root of the word, it involves a gift of grace. In someway charisma appears in a natural way. But when I consider children, however charming, I couldn't describe them as charismatic, though their charm may become so; it's seems to be something that appears later on. I'm think that it's quietly earned through integrity, selflessness and such qualities. A child's sphere of influence is circumscribed by being under parental control. Saying that, I wouldn't rule it out in a young person...I disagree with Wikipedia: it is not a trait in the sense used in personality psychology. It can be lost quickly.

Distinction between appointed leaders and a natural leaders exist although, appointed leaders may have charisma, depending on who they are. Tony Blair was an appointed leader, but IMHO, I wouldn't say he had charisma: the public were told he had charisma, by inference from a fawning media. I would say he had appeal and rode on it, and appeal is not always charismatic - it's being attractive for any of a number of reasons; A facade, a portrayal, promising, indulgent, meeting a perceived need etc.., and even grooming for leadership behind the scenes. With Tony Blair, his need for approval was equal to the publics' need for a fresh start ; I don't think that that would be true of a charismatic person.

Feet in the Air

Shown in a mirror, a place for us
Both to stand under - our secret

I've lost my way
Feet in the air, head entwined
All because of your whistling breath
Whispers sifted and taken as given
In attraction which bears children

As signs of your Self,
Second hand things that don't grow you harvest -
Amazement pinned to a suit which someone else imagined;
It doesn't suit you.
As signs of your self; Look what I do!
Look, What you've done!

No space for time to stand
Nor emission of gifts
No place for us both to stand under
And understand each other

Meditation Torn by Divisions

Meditation IS our true nature. As a child begins to grow, the purity of its Meditative state is spoilt due to many external factors. As a result, a child that arrives in this world in a state of utter innocence, wonder, joy, ecstacy, and celebration turns into a human being torn by divisions, tensions, and turmoil's. Deep rooted Engraved Memories (Samskaras) in the unconscious zone further cripple our ability to enjoy bliss.
~ Paramahamsa Nithyananda

Which is why intimacy of a Parent, in protecting or by teaching, is key to a child's outcome.

Man Speaks Alone

A man speaks, he's quite alone:

Getting it all out of my head

Death is all around me. It seems to be the only thing I think of lately. It makes everything seem so small. It makes me feel like a fool here tapping on my keyboard trying to convince myself my life has some meaning. I know it's all meaningless. I know this will all amount to a pile of shit when I die. Is it anger I'm feeling? I don't think so. I'm not angry, or afraid, or anxious - I'm simply seeing things for what they are. We make such a big fucking deal of it all and it's really ridiculous. We're wasting our time, not even living.

Why do I get up every morning and go to a job I hate? Why am I spending thousands of dollars and countless hours getting a degree that will do nothing for me? Sure, it will grant me permanent certification to teach, but I'm not learning from these classes. I can teach myself, I don't need them. Why am I doing it?I don't know, I can't help thinking lately that if it's going to end anyway it may as well end now. I'm just wasting time waiting for the inevitable. And of course there will be those who say the means justifies the end in this case - I have to do something with the time I have, blah, blah, blah - you're only trying to convince yourself that there's meaning in your life. Keep lying to yourself but don't expect me to buy it. I've accepted that there is no meaning to life, there are no answers.< p>

The universe goes on without us, and doesn't even notice if we live or die. We live in this little bubble of a planet that we think is the center of the universe, but really what effect do our actions here on earth have on anything. We are all like Ozymandius - 'look on my works, ye mighty, and despair!' as we lie in the dust of our own destruction. I'm going to sleep and if there's any justice in the world I won't wake up.

I found it interesting to hear the man speak. It would be easy for me to knock his view. Instead I appluad him for being so bold. I see he's troubled because we're not free - that's where we get meaning. We live in a system which makes us slaves to work, heads bloated with propoganda, food processed without love. Why should our lives affect the dust of the universe in any purposeful way?
I like the bit about learning and teaching: government school is cheating government propaganda by right-on social-materialist revolutionaries, timid or bullish, always right since the age of...school-age; Life - an extension of high-school cool (Zappa, F.)

Link: downtheinkwell: Getting it all out of my head

Eyelids Get Heavy

When I travelled the colourful world before terrorism
I had long eyelashes but I was seeking a Genius's welcome to a new arrival and I kept my eyes open.
People loved me 'cos I looked upon them with a gaze that sought to see the best in them.
And while I travelled from human oasis of paradise and through teeming streets of careless poverty,
I was drawn into towering scenes hinting at revelation.
Now my lashes insist there is nothing to welcome,
unless I stay up all night to meet dewy morning light that transports me to where I should always be.
I'm unfussed by all the bother and mortal immortal,
I know I am where I am at, which is not the UK, (though it is my postal address).
I don't feel tired, but I have used up half a lifetimes energy.
Now I'll compose a tune to cut through nine-to-five
Did I ever meet a genius?

Year of writing: 2004

Not To People I Don't Know

When I'm not writing to people i don't know
All is carrying me away
Why stop and write, to capture a moment
Point out injustice to me, to you, to us...we who permit it;
Limitations, marvels, a scent of flowers, a trail of words. As long as I write,
Then I am not limited by your use of words as I am
when I go walkabout under a wicked spell.