Hair on fire

The man who stumbles through the office door bearing two handprints on the back of his jacket is, no surprise, a weak candidate for counselling.  And the perfect candidate? His hair’s on fire.

Split

The least plausible basis for action? A finding of right and wrong.

Inspector Clouseau, I presume

A coincidence reminds us that we are not in control of what happens. There are 7.75 billion of us milling about on a small glow-ball floating in space. And yet, we’re causal crazy.

Under the lash

If we’re doing something because we feel we should, we are wrongly motivated.

The trouble with trophies

After food is swallowed, do we remember the food? No. We surrender it to the tender mercies of the digestive system and thereafter to the toilet.

Therein lies a lesson: When the work is done, forget the work. Any work. All work. I’ve talked to my sister-in-law about this. She boards horses. She mucks out stalls. Zen practice is not foreign to her nature.

Our ‘creatives’ are really bad at forgetting the work. Given the least opportunity they’ll stuff themselves into monkey suits and taxi off to an award show. They do this without the least hint of embarrassment.

What happens to a prize five minutes after we get one? Can it be traded for a dollar?

If I can be incentivized by money or pizza, I am in the wrong line of work.