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10 Essential Tips to Find That Perfect Corporate Gift

Your regarded customers, steadfast clients and stunning representatives are your most significant resource. The correct blessing picked with care and consideration will fortify connections, regardless of whether to remunerate accomplishment or commend achievement. Why settle for a conventional blessing when you can dazzle with the phenomenal?

I have assembled the fundamental tips to locate that corporate blessing.

Simply read on

1) Must Always Select A Quality Gift

As a matter of first importance, you should choose a blessing that you would be glad to put your organization name on. Your client and customers are destined to accept your blessing as an impression of how you view and worth relationship with them.

On the off chance that your initial introduction taking a gander at the blessing, is floating towards it being modest or normally accessible stuff, odds are that they will see precisely the same way.

2) Always and Always Check Corporate Policies

In all honesty, numerous associat…

Melody over meaning

Every Thought...

Week 26: Fire

Third of the five parts of Eliot’s poem is the Fire Section, marked by song and a poetic sermon. Earth was character, air was word.  The spiritual progression continues.


06/24:

TWL, Part III: Songs

172.5 III. The Fire Sermon

172.5. ACT THREE: This is the fire section.  Eliot reserved his discussion of the Buddha’s Fire Sermon, the source for the name of this section, until the section’s end at notes 308 and 309, but he then immediately commingled his lesson with the teachings of Jesus and the reflections of St Augustine. With these pillars, the fire section will consider healing by a purging of emotions.

Some have speculated at what the poet may have wanted to personally purge, but revealing this was probably not his intent. See note 403, and see also Eliot, Tradition and the Individual Talent (1919):

“Poetry is not a turning loose of emotion, but an escape from emotion; it is not the expression of personality, but an escape from personality. ...There are many people who appreciate the expression of sincere emotion in verse, ...But very few know when there is expression of significant emotion, emotion which has its life in the poem and not in the history of the poet. The emotion of art is impersonal. And the poet cannot reach this impersonality without surrendering himself wholly to the work to be done.”

SONGS mark the continuing evolution of this poem, following the surrender and the dying words of the previous “air” section. Songs are played and alluded to outside of Part III, at lines 26 (Ariel’s song), 31 (the sailor’s song), 128 (Hamlet’s rag), 331-359 (the water-dripping song) and 379 (the fiddled whisper music), and see also note 367 (Dmitri’s drunken hymn), but we hear the greater concentration of songs within this fire section, at lines 176 and 183 (a song to the sweet River Thames); 197 (horns and motors); 199-201 (a soldiers’ ballad); 202 (children’s voices in the dome); 203-206 (the nightingale’s song); 256 (the lovely woman’s record on the gramophone); 257 (Ariel’s song revisited, with music that crept upon the waters); 261 (the pleasant whining of a mandolin); and, finally and emphatically, lines 261-306 (the song of the three Thames-daughters).  See also notes 182 (the Lord’s song in a strange land), 253 (Olivia’s song) and 258 (the graduates’ Strand song).

SONG SYLLABLES, words to carry melody over meaning, serve as regular refrains.  Most prominent in section three is the river nymphs’ chorus of weialala leia, wallala leialala (lines 277-278 and 290-291) and la la (line 306), but see also the o o o o of Hamlet’s rag (line 128), the ta ta of the pub farewellers (line 171), and the da... da....da of the thunder (lines 401, 411 and 418), and note the songs of the nightingale (jug jug, lines 103 and 204, and twit twit twit, line 204), the hermit thrush (drip drop drip drop, line 358) and the rooster (Co co   rico   co co   rico, line 393).  Compare these to the mantras of time (see note 141) and peace (see note 434).


06/25:

The Fifth Stage Speaking To The Fourth Stage

The Fifth Stage (Feeling Like The Sixth Stage)
Speaking To The Fourth Stage (Reminding Him
Of What He Learned In The Second Stage)

“I feel so old, having to be
helped with walking short distances,
the world ever holding my hand
and the room being a constant adventure.”

Old? I’m your older brother; let me be
the voice of wisdom through childish treble
with my pant legs rolled up: dignity
be damned, we walk as we are able.

You are a soldier, reminding me
even now like a bearded pard
of what you’ve told me repeatedly
over the years and across the ages,

   “Every day is a gift,
and we are all survivors.”


06/26:

Sonnet #44

Picking up where we once left off,
as though the last twenty five years
weren’t amazingly full of rich, rich stories,
every season a lifetime unto itself,
every hour brimming with possibilities
—I could tell you a hundred of them,
a thousand if you had the time—
but where were we? Twenty five years ago,

before we set off on our unexpected
adventures, and who were we then,
before the news... You were twelve,
you were twenty two, I was twenty six,
and you: you were still in your teens,
not even thinking of all the world had
in store for you, even in the whisper of
a day. But rest now. We’ll talk more tomorrow.

—but I like all those stories of in-between,
I want to hold on to them, making sure
they don’t slip away or change into something
unrecognizable, forgettable. And you,
encouraging me with your eyes, your smile,
could almost make me forget the bookends.

Remember when? I could muster
a thousand smiles and turn around
to look at them a hundred times more:
Life, after all, is all about reliving,
and where we were once, and where
we are now, is only about forgiving.


06/27:

Finding The Spark

Journal entries from June 1990, continued

On a Sunday morning, amidst my sins and thoughts and actions, amidst my shame and self-pity... I don’t know. Maybe there’s a bible verse, and maybe it will pop out at me by chance.  Let me go to where I do not usually go...

“Yahweh is all I have, I say to myself... (Lamentations 3:24a; New Jerusalem Bible).

...It is good to wait in silence for Yahweh to save... (Lamentations 3:26).

...to sit in solitude and silence when it weighs heavy, to lay one’s head in the dust —maybe there is hope... (Lamentations 3:28-29)

...Yahweh, I called your name from the deep pit. You heard my voice... (Lamentations 3:55-56a).

...You are near when I call to you. You said, ‘Do not be afraid.’” (Lamentations 3:57).

“...Take off your dress of sorrow and distress, put on the beauty of God’s glory, wrap the cloak of God’s saving justice around you.” (Barach 5: 1-2a).

“The whole world will remember and return to Yahweh, all the families of nations bow down before him. For to Yahweh, ruler of the nations, belongs kingly power! All who prosper on earth will bow before him, all who go down to the dust will do reverence before him. And those who are dead, their descendants will serve him, will proclaim his name to the generations still to come; and these will tell of his saving justice to a people yet unborn...”  (Psalm 22: 27-31a).


06/28:

Seeking Conversation

Journal entries from June 1990, continued

Why doesn’t Steve Sullivan want to talk about God? I know, that’s a foolish question. But Steve is one of several bible belt fundamentalists who work with me at Maxrad. We went to dinner tonight at the end of our shift, and, being hungry for a discussion of faith, I looked forward to Steve bringing up God, and he didn’t. Maybe he’s not as much of a Christian as I had thought.

But here’s another question: Why doesn’t Jon Vold want to talk about God? Now that is a question I would do better to consider: I should realize that there is no good answer I can conclude with Steve as long as I cannot confess the answer for myself.

And really, the answer to Steve’s question, the question about Steve, is irrelevant, because if I even get close to the point where I can be rightly concerned about someone else’s conversational faith I would have to be talking about God all the time; if I were ever quiet about God, I would have no cause to judge others for being quiet; and if I was talking about God all the time, I would never have time to wonder why anyone having dinner with me was talking about anything else. I would be forever steering the conversation back to God, and we would be talking about God from dusk to dawn, and I wouldn’t let anyone get a secular word in edgewise.

I am not that way, though. God knows I don’t even try to be. I might have a million answers to why Jon Vold doesn’t talk about God and not one answer is a good one: “I’m ashamed,” “I’m afraid,” “I want to talk about something else right now,” “I don’t know what to say,” and so on.

I am a sinner, Lord, perpetually falling short. I’ll use every excuse a million more times, and still I will come to you for forgiveness. You give it to me every time, too, and why I don’t talk about that to everyone I cannot say. All I can do, it seems, is ask for that forgiveness one more pitiful time.


 06/29:

Tending The Fire

Journal entries from June 1990, continued

I had a good talk with Dan tonight. We will be all right. God will take care of us.

And I had a great talk with Rebekah Choi at University Bible Fellowship.

Rebekah told a remarkable story about "wanting to die." She was looking inward during a sufferable time of her life —recuperating from kidney stone surgery —and with the persuasion of a chance antagonist's scold ("Stop worrying!") she got religion, so to speak. She still felt painfully mortal, but she decided that as long as she was going to die she may as well die for Jesus. But after a while it became apparent to her that it wasn’t all smooth sailing, this dying for Jesus. For one thing, at the end of each day she still worried, so to speak, and sometimes so much that she couldn’t sleep. During the day, she kept herself busy dying for Jesus by attending bible studies, going to church, reading; but during the night, with nothing else to do, she was reminded again of her pain and it kept her awake. Well, one day, she “went fishing” on the college campus, and she suddenly found herself with five new students to study the bible with. She put everything she had into building a fellowship with these new students, and before she knew it she found herself feeling exhausted at night. And it was wonderful.

There’s no way I can tell Rebekah’s story as well as she did; it was beautifully told by her because it was a personal testimony. But I hope the sense of what she said stays with me.

I also had a visit with Josh today. The hospital room was crowded, so it wasn’t too personal, but maybe that was for the best. I look forward to a brotherly talk with him tomorrow,  though, so I can tell him about my conversations with Dan and Rebekah.

[Footnote: The presence of University Bible Fellowship (UBF) at the University of Illinois at Chicago prompted a 1990 student newspaper editorial to call the organization an objectionable cult, but in the year I spent with UBF I did not find cause for concern. Its leaders promoted a protestant Christian theology, related to Korean Presbyterianism, with a focus on in-depth interactive bible study, encouraging students to devote as much time to studying the bible as they would to a college course with writing assignments, weekly meetings and homework. Weekly “sogams” were written, hymns were sung. I never cared for their three hour Sunday church services, preferring my Lutheran hour, but they still kept the weekday bible study door open for me.]


06/30:

Moleskin 3.8: Different Words

This is what I remember about my parents’ divorce: beyond the apparency of their separation, they spoke very little about it, at least around us kids, but now and then, quietly, we would hear different words like child support, group therapy, visitation schedules. Mom started dating, but with a certain reserve. Dad spent increased time with pastoral counseling services —counseling for pastors, the reason, it eventually occurred to me, that we had moved to Chicago, where the Lutheran Church had its clergy support system. I could not tell you the month or the year their divorce was finalized, but there was a day, probably sometime after Nixon resigned, that to my still continuing surprise, my mother’s picture appeared on one of the inner pages of the Tribune: she was among a crowd of picketers, rallying for divorce reform, and particularly for no-fault dissolutions and an increased recognition of the rights of co-parenting fathers. They called themselves EVE and ADAM, and Mom was holding up one of the ADAM signs.

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