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The Art of Broken Wood: Why Brute Force Is Killing Your Genius

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The Art of Broken Wood: Why Brute Force Is Killing Your Genius Listen to the episode for this week of Kuiumba We love to sit by the muddy banks and complain about the storm. Look at our households, our ventures, and our exhausted minds. The shelter caved in, the resources feel waterlogged, and the old blueprint doesn't work anymore. So what do we do? We drop our tools, sit in the mud, and drown in the lower emotional loop: Mad at the downpour, Sad about what washed away, and Scared that we don't have what it takes to rebuild. From that paralyzed place, we drown in blame, shame, and guilt. We blame systemic weather; we carry the shame of broken foundations; we carry the guilt of not saving everyone. But Kuumba (Creativity) —burning in its radiant fire of deep Orange—does not ask you for seasoned, kiln-dried timber from the master’s storehouse. Kuumba looks at your mud-soaked reality and asks a sovereign question: What did the flood wash to your feet? Ancient Mangbetu lore tel...
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I am - by Preston J. Harrison

brown recluse as compared to a U.S.A. pennyImage via Wikipedia
This post has been sponsored by the creative minds that brought you OXYwater.
those entrepreneurs out there looking for an opportunity here you go,

  








I am.

I am the native tongue.
I am the brown recluse.
I am the spirit of the slave
with my neck in a noose.

I am a quote from the bible,
the legend of the scroll.
The music in your heart
when you sing from your soul.

I am the favorite son,
a warrior's tattoo.
The benefit of the doubt
when others can't trust you.

I am the dream keeper.
I am the moon's sun,
the hired gun, muted barrel,
I am the chosen one.

I am the brightest day,
and sometimes the darkest night.
I am the wind beneath the wings
when a bird takes flight.

I am the castle and the king,
the drawbridge, the moat,
the canoe in cried-rivers
making sure hope floats.

I am the first kiss, last breath.
I am the rook, the knight, the pawn, the king
in a game of chess.

I am the soul singer.
I am the rhythm and the blues.
I am the first idea
and The Creator's muse.

I am the sunday sermon.
I am the pulpit for the preacher.
I am the choir, prophet, priest
and sunday school teacher.

I am the saint-sinner.
I am the long way home.
I am a shape-shifter.
I am this poet's poem.
I am.

Preston J. Harrison.
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