The Art and Science of Business

While listening to the Orgelbüchlein, performed by James Kibbie, and putting together a business plan for some associates, I look at The Wisdom of India by Lin Yutang and contemplate buying As One by Merhdad Baghai and James Quigley.

I think about Walt Disney and the extension of copyrights/trademarks that are granted to enduring brands.

The shiny surface of my laptop computer is dull where my palms rest.  The most commonly pressed keys look slick from many thousands of clicks (the Q, Z, X, J and P keys are the least rubbed smooth, with W, U and K not far behind).

Playing this parallel universe of a blog like a symphony, hearing the voices of people and cultures like the sweet tweets and deep bellows of musical instruments, repeating phrases for emphasis, looking for the perfectly new but hauntingly familiar melody to pull out of nothingness, wanting to get this right the first time because there's no going back but knowing I make a few typos through my rush to get it all down on e-paper before I forget what I hear in my head...

I wrote a two-part poem decades ago that compared the difference between a schizophrenic and a writer, saying that a writer puts the compartmentalisation of thoughts that have a particular "voice" (i.e., characters) to practical use, or something like that.  Composers are the same or similar.

But so, too, are any of us who design, build, lead or otherwise use the extension of a thought set to create something unique outside of ourselves.

Parents, what of your children?

Where do we concentrate our energy expenditure?

Does it matter if anyone is listening to you?

Is the analysis of the work of another a work in its own right?

If I design a business plan that I'll never use and submit it to another person as one of many proposals for creating something wonderful, am I participating in the art and science of business even if my work never sees the light of day?

How often do we have to practice to perfect our skills and sharpen our talents?

Every moment is practice for the next one.

One person recently asked why I never seem to mention the Bible (a frequent observation by readers).  I don't mention specifics about my wife, either, but they're both an integral part of my childhood so that I feel no need to promote or talk about the core/foundational part of myself.  Wisdom imparted to me by sages, scholars and committees through the ages (i.e., the Bible) is just as important as wisdom imparted to me by my wife in the moments we share together.  I don't understand much about the Bible and I don't understand much about my wife but I accept them both as they are as I practice learning more about them and the rest of the stimuli that serves as my life in every moment.