Diving Experience Quotes

When we are young, the words are scattered all around us. As they are assembled by experience, so also are we, sentence by sentence, until the story takes shape.

Be not the slave of your own past - plunge into the sublime seas, dive deep, and swim far, so you shall come back with new self-respect, with new power, and with an advanced experience that shall explain and overlook the old.

If you hold back on the emotions--if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them--you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your heard even, you experience them fully and completely.

The truth is always an abyss. One must — as in a swimming pool — dare to dive from the quivering springboard of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order to later rise again — laughing and fighting for breath — to the now doubly illuminated surface of things.

Don't cling to things, because everything is impermanent... But detachment doesn't mean you don't let the experience penetrate you. On the contrary, you let it penetrate you fully. That's how you are able to leave it...You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief... But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely.You know what pain is. You know what love is. "All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.

Take any emotion—love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or what I’m going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you hold back on the emotions—if you don’t allow yourself to go all the way through them—you can never get to being detached, you’re too busy being afraid. You’re afraid of the pain, you’re afraid of the grief. You’re afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. “But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, ‘All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment’.

I want to be a scientist who studies the ocean when I grow up. I would go out to sea, and scuba dive, and find new things, and National Geographic will hire me.” Sure, Nudge. Probably around the time I become president.

I want to dive into his being, experience him with all 5 senses, drown in the waves of wonder enveloping my existence.

I still don't know how to work out a poem. A poem needs understanding through the senses. The point of diving into a lake is not immediately to swim to the shore, but to be in the lake, to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out, it is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept the mystery.

You’re a friend of Ev’s and Lauren’s. We talked. I tackled you. We rolled around on the floor together. It was a real bonding experience.

If you hold back on the emotions - if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them - you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, "All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.

Literature presents you with alternate mappings of the human experience. You see that the experiences of other people and other cultures are as rich, coherent, and troubled as your own experiences. They are as beset with suffering as yours. Literature is a kind of legitimate voyeurism through the keyhole of language where you really come to know other people's lives--their anguish, their loves, their passions. Often you discover that once you dive into those lives and get below the surface, the veneer, there is a real closeness.

A poem needs understaning through the senses. The point of diving in a lake, is not immediately to swim to the shore, but to be in the lake; to luxuriate in the sensation of water. You do not work the lake out, it is an experience beyond thought. Poetry soothes and emboldens the soul to accept mystery.

it is hard to find one’s calling because many mistakenly believe they need to look only within to discover their passion. Although it is true that we have innate interests and talents, we often do not know what they are until we have real-life experiences. Having a wide range of experiences can help you uncover your inner passion. Try various part-time jobs and internships, or volunteer. Don’t be afraid of rolling up your sleeves and diving in. While immersed in a job’s reality, you will discover whether it’s a good fit. Work experiences may unlock the door to a career opportunity you hadn’t considered. Third,

Damn, he was hot. The kind of hot that only got better with age and experience.

But nothing will persuade me that the mere fact of being in a place is enough in itself to justify the effort of getting out of bed to become a tourist, or even a traveller. I don't have the slightest wish to be intrepid. I don't want to prove myself to myself or anyone else. I don't care if no one thinks me brave or hardy. I have no concern at all that I did not have whatever it is I should have had to take a dive out of a plane or off a building. None of that matters to me in the least.

When mind soars in pursuit of the things conceived in space, it pursues emptiness; but when man dives deep within himself, he experiences the fullness of existence.

But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, ‘All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion

Franz Kafka observed that “the truth is always an abyss. One must—as in a swimming pool—dare to dive from the quivering springboard of trivial everyday experience and sink into the depths, in order later to rise again—laughing and fighting for breath—to the now doubly illuminated surface of things.

No longer bound by fear, how high can we soar? How deep can we dive? How much delight can we experience? Yes, there will be sorrow too—it's a part of the deal—but life gets the final word. Life. Life always gets the final word. Every single time. Forever. Praise the Lord, O my soul; all my inmost being, praise His holy name!

I watched the enormity of the clouds for several minutes. What I wanted to experience in the water, I realized, was how life of the reef was layered and intertwined. I now had many individual pieces at hand: named images, nouns. How were they related? What were the verbs? Which syntaxes were indigenous to the place? I asked a dozen knowledgeable people. No one was inclined to elaborate- or they didn’t know. “Did you see the octopus?” Someone shouted after the dive. Yes, I thought, but who among us knows what it was doing? What else was THERE, just then? WHY?

Your challenge as a #GIRLBOSS is to dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility. Failure is your invention.

All young people believed they were immortal, and he had personal experience of the methods they used to cull themselves - base-jumping, sky-diving, hard drugs, alcohol. Over the years he'd come to see solid sense in the ways so-called savage peoples formalised their rituals of manhood; without such regulation, young men seemed compelled to invent their own, even more lethal, rites of passage.

Dive from a high platform, walk a country lane, watch your computer freeze, cross a finish line, hear your morning alarm, look for a parking space, toast on your anniversary, embrace a friend after a funeral. As you live your life, what do you feel? Terror, serenity, frustration, relief, groaning reluctance, patient endurance, pride, satisfaction, or a grief made bearable because somehow life will go on. We experience life as feelings.

Your challenge as a #GIRLBOSS is to dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility. Failure is your invention. I believe that there is a silver lining in everything, and once you begin to see it, you’ll need sunglasses to combat the glare. It is she who listens to the rest of the world who fails, and it is she who has enough

Q. What if I took a swim in a typical spent nuclear fuel pool? Would I need to dive to actually experience a fatal amount of radiation? How long could I stay safely at the surface? —Jonathan Bastien-Filiatrault A. Assuming you’re a reasonably good swimmer, you could probably survive treading water anywhere from 10 to 40 hours. At that point, you would black out from fatigue and drown. This is also true for a pool without nuclear fuel in the bottom.

Life has not always been easy on her... yet she has somehow managed not only to survive but also to believe in the beauty of the world. She has remained an optimist. She has fun in this life, no matter what. I've learned that you can plan your life all you want, but you can't control it. You have to dive headfirst into it, experience its joys and pains...you have to live...and then you have to share those stories with the ones you love before its too late.

Never turn down a good idea, but never take a bad idea. And meditate. It’s very important to experience that Self, that pure consciousness. It’s really helped me. I think it would help any filmmaker. So start diving within, enlivening that bliss consciousness. Grow in happiness and intuition. Experience the joy of doing. And you’ll glow in this peaceful way. Your friends will be very, very happy with you. Everyone will want to sit next to you. And people will give you money!

You forgive me?” he asked, trailing hot kisses down my neck. “Yes. But don’t do it again. And don’t stop kissing me.” “Got it. Let me apologize to you properly. Let me kiss you between the legs.” Strong hands cupped my ass, pressing me against his erection. “I wanna lick you, Lena.” “You like doing that, don’t you?” I asked, a little amazed. Past boyfriends had not rated the experience highly. “Fuck yes. I love having you squirming against my face, rubbing your pussy on me.

Dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility.

Angels pawning Halos, Swan-diving through warm drops of rain, Soaking up champagne-shaded rays of bliss.

Call me Ishmael. Some years ago--never mind how long precisely--having little or no money in my purse, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I thought I would sail about a little and see the watery part of the world. It is a way I have of driving off the spleen and regulating the circulation. Whenever I find myself growing grim about the mouth; whenever it is a damp, drizzly November in my soul; whenever I find myself involuntarily pausing before coffin warehouses, and bringing up the rear of every funeral I meet; and especially whenever my hypos get such an upper hand of me, that it requires a strong moral principle to prevent me from deliberately stepping into the street, and methodically knocking people's hats off--then, I account it high time to get to sea as soon as I can. This is my substitute for pistol and ball. With a philosophical flourish Cato throws himself upon his sword; I quietly take to the ship. There is nothing surprising in this. If they but knew it, almost all men in their degree, some time or other, cherish very nearly the same feelings towards the ocean with me. There now is your insular city of the Manhattoes, belted round by wharves as Indian isles by coral reefs--commerce surrounds it with her surf. Right and left, the streets take you waterward. Its extreme downtown is the battery, where that noble mole is washed by waves, and cooled by breezes, which a few hours previous were out of sight of land. Look at the crowds of water-gazers there. Circumambulate the city of a dreamy Sabbath afternoon. Go from Corlears Hook to Coenties Slip, and from thence, by Whitehall, northward. What do you see?--Posted like silent sentinels all around the town, stand thousands upon thousands of mortal men fixed in ocean reveries. Some leaning against the spiles; some seated upon the pier-heads; some looking over the bulwarks of ships from China; some high aloft in the rigging, as if striving to get a still better seaward peep. But these are all landsmen; of week days pent up in lath and plaster--tied to counters, nailed to benches, clinched to desks. How then is this? Are the green fields gone? What do they here? But look! here come more crowds, pacing straight for the water, and seemingly bound for a dive. Strange! Nothing will content them but the extremest limit of the land; loitering under the shady lee of yonder warehouses will not suffice. No. They must get just as nigh the water as they possibly can without falling in. And there they stand--miles of them--leagues. Inlanders all, they come from lanes and alleys, streets and avenues--north, east, south, and west. Yet here they all unite. Tell me, does the magnetic virtue of the needles of the compasses of all those ships attract them thither? Once more. Say you are in the country; in some high land of lakes. Take almost any path you please, and ten to one it carries you down in a dale, and leaves you there by a pool in the stream. There is magic in it. Let the most absent-minded of men be plunged in his deepest reveries--stand that man on his legs, set his feet a-going, and he will infallibly lead you to water, if water there be in all that region. Should you ever be athirst in the great American desert, try this experiment, if your caravan happen to be supplied with a metaphysical professor. Yes, as every one knows, meditation and water are wedded for ever.

Your challenge as a #GIRLBOSS is to dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility.

Your challenge as a #GIRLBOSS is to dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility. Failure is your invention.

Your challenge as a #GIRLBOSS is to dive in headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility. Failure is your invention.

there are so many turquoise bodies of water left for us to dive in. there is family. blood or chosen. the possibility of falling in love. with people and places. hills high as the moon. valleys that roll into new worlds. and road trips. i find it deeply important to accept that we are not the masters of this place. we are her visitors. and like guests let’s enjoy this place like a garden. let us treat it with a gentle hand. so the ones after us can experience it too. let’s find our own sun. grow our own flowers. the universe delivered us with the light and the seeds. we might not hear it at times but the music is always on. it just needs to be turned louder. for as long as there is breath in our lungs — we must keep dancing.

I've learned that you can plan your life all you want, but you can't control it. You have to dive headfirst into it, experience its joys and pains... you have to live... and then you have to share those stories with the ones you love before it's too late.

Without diving deeply into our Shadows and freeing the awareness from its roots, we will never experience the elation of the vaporisation of the victim consciousness within us. Only on those blissful vapours can we rise above the emotional depths and surf the collective wave.

I fear the day when the technos decide that paper books are obsolete and we are reading from PC screens and iPods and eBooks, and we never again experience the little rush of opening a new book and cracking the spine and smelling the print and diving deep into the thoughts of the writer.

I never assumed that I'd just done my best job the first time around. Your challenge is to dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility. Failure is your invention

The holiest journey leads the pilgrim into the depths of the human heart. One must simply dive inside. There it is. Love imbues all experience, including silence and sound, form and emptiness. Hurt, pain, and anger are acknowledged, honored, and more deeply understood due to spiritual practice.

Here is interesting thought to play with, World is based on information you go in social media... what in reality you are doing is sharing data, books when you are reading, what you are doing is diving in deeper level of topic most cases pointvof view from one person, to write a book is about to share experience.

If you hold back on the emotions - if you don’t allow yourself to go all the way through them - you you can never get to being detached, you’re too busy being afraid...But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely.

Abhinavagupta does not prescribe a hermit’s life for that Shiva yogin, who is free to live without restrictions, to remain in the household, and to participate in pleasures of the senses and the mind within the limits of the currently acceptable social standards. In other words, one is free to live a normal life and at the same time to pursue some method of Trika yoga. As soon as the seeker’s practice in yoga yields the experience of Self-bliss, worldly enjoyments automatically lose their power and fascination, and one’s senses develop a spontaneous indifference, known as anadaravirakti, to former pleasures. Once seekers have become expert practitioners in the experience of Self-bliss, they are able to move freely through worldly enjoyments without any fear of spiritual pollution. Such enjoyments can actually serve to further illumine the extraordinary experience of Self-bliss. As Abhinavagupta explains: The mind (of a Shiva yogin) does not become wet (or stained) from within, just like the rind of a dried gourd which has no opening, even if it dives deep into the water of sensual pleasures.

and then there are days when the simple act of breathing leaves you exhausted. it seems easier to give up on this life. the thought of disappearing brings you peace. for so long i was lost in a place where there was no sun. where there grew no flowers. but every once in a while out of the darkness something i loved would emerge and bring me to life again. witnessing a starry sky. the lightness of laughing with old friends. a reader who told me the poems had saved their life. yet there i was struggling to save my own. my darlings. living is difficult. it is difficult for everybody. and it is at that moment when living feels like crawling through a pin-sized hole. that we must resist the urge of succumbing to bad memories. refuse to bow before bad months or bad years. cause our eyes are starving to feast on this world. there are so many turquoise bodies of water left for us to dive in. there is family. blood or chosen. the possibility of falling in love. with people and places. hills high as the moon. valleys that roll into new worlds. and road trips. i find it deeply important to accept that we are not the masters of this place. we are her visitors. and like guests let’s enjoy this place like a garden. let us treat it with a gentle hand. so the ones after us can experience it too. let’s find our own sun. grow our own flowers. the universe delivered us with the light and the seeds. we might not hear it at times but the music is always on. it just needs to be turned louder. for as long as there is breath in our lungs—we must keep dancing.

I have understood now that after feelings of disappointment subside, and one gains perspective, these experiences can change our ways of thinking, and bring us face to face with existential issues. When that happens, we need to embrace the events and analyze how we responded - did we allow them to merely roll over us like waves, or did we dive deeper into the matter and use it to gain insights into ourselves?

Like sparks of light bursting from the earth, Peaches and her spirit animal dove up from the root system all at once, then ran over and through the leaves on the forest canopy, as water-worn rocks appeared beneath their feet the closer they got to the creek. A moment or so later, they were diving underneath the fast current of the shallow water, spiraling downward toward a bright beam of light emanating from the very bottom of the creek.

Had he ever been on a camel? Tom wasn’t quite sure, even though the discomfort of being lifted up high seemed so real, so within his memory, that he felt it had happened. He would hate it. It would be something like looking down at a swimming pool while standing on a diving board five or six meters above the surface of the water. Jump! Why should he? Had anybody ever commanded him to jump? At summer camp? Tom wasn’t sure. Sometimes his imagination was as clear as a remembered experience.

..and you will have many opportunities to take in human civilization at its highest levels of achievement. ..approach this experience as a small child might approach a mud puddle. You can lean over and look at yourself in the reflection, maybe stick a finger in it, an cause a little ripple. Or you can dive in, thrash around, and find out what it feels like, what it tastes like... I urge you to jump in. And I look forward to seeing you, back here, at the end of this experience, covered in mud.

You said to imagine a great big sphere, and inside is all of time and space. All of it. And outside are these intelligent entities, and all they are is curious; all they want to do is experience.” “Go on,” Alice said. Her eyes are so bright.… “One might say: ‘I want the experience of being a seventeen-year-old girl in the fourteenth century who was burned at the stake.’ Or ‘I’d like the experience of being a four-month aborted fetus in 1994.’ And they just dive in and do it.” I looked at Alice. She was waiting for something. I thought about what I just said, and then I remembered: “They have to create what happens. Write a script.” She still waited, so I said, “Not only the experience itself; the house, the city, the country, the whole world where it happens. All of it.” “Which makes that entity responsible for all of it,” she reminded me. “So that’s who the ‘little man watching’ really is—that, that thing—” “Not a thing,” she said, interrupting for the very first time. “It’s you. You’re living a script that you wrote. Which is why free will and predestination are the same thing.

The worldling will not face his colossal inner blah. He multiplies experiences in an unending and desperate attempt to numb his spirit. It hurts so much not to have attained the very reason for his existence, an immersion in God, that he uses things as a narcotic. The worldling pursues prestige or comfort or wealth or sexual encounters not because they basically satisfy him (if they did, once would be enough) but because they dull his inner aching. Always and eventually he is faced with his personal failure. But the sight if it is so revolting and painful, he dives once again into the aspirin sea of frantic pursuits.

As usual, he combined experience and experiment; in fact he used the same word, esperienza, for both. While in Florence, he devised a pair of goggles for his dives in the Arno so he could study the water as it flowed past a weir. He threw oak apples or corks into a river and counted “beats of time” to study how long it took those in the center and those nearer the banks to move two hundred feet. He made floats that could hover at different depths to see how the currents changed from the surface to the bottom, and he crafted instruments that could measure a river’s downhill course so he could determine the “rate of fall of a river per mile.

If you hold back on the emotions - if you don't allow yourself to go all the way through them - you can never get to being detached, you're too busy being afraid. You're afraid of the pain, you're afraid of the grief. You're afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, ,all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. you know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, 'All right, I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.

Now let me tell you something. I have seen a thousand sunsets and sunrises, on land where it floods forest and mountains with honey coloured light, at sea where it rises and sets like a blood orange in a multicoloured nest of cloud, slipping in and out of the vast ocean. I have seen a thousand moons: harvest moons like gold coins, winter moons as white as ice chips, new moons like baby swans’ feathers. I have seen seas as smooth as if painted, coloured like shot silk or blue as a kingfisher or transparent as glass or black and crumpled with foam, moving ponderously and murderously. I have felt winds straight from the South Pole, bleak and wailing like a lost child; winds as tender and warm as a lover’s breath; winds that carried the astringent smell of salt and the death of seaweeds; winds that carried the moist rich smell of a forest floor, the smell of a million flowers. Fierce winds that churned and moved the sea like yeast, or winds that made the waters lap at the shore like a kitten. I have known silence: the cold, earthy silence at the bottom of a newly dug well; the implacable stony silence of a deep cave; the hot, drugged midday silence when everything is hypnotised and stilled into silence by the eye of the sun; the silence when great music ends. I have heard summer cicadas cry so that the sound seems stitched into your bones. I have heard tree frogs in an orchestration as complicated as Bach singing in a forest lit by a million emerald fireflies. I have heard the Keas calling over grey glaciers that groaned to themselves like old people as they inched their way to the sea. I have heard the hoarse street vendor cries of the mating Fur seals as they sang to their sleek golden wives, the crisp staccato admonishment of the Rattlesnake, the cobweb squeak of the Bat and the belling roar of the Red deer knee-deep in purple heather. I have heard Wolves baying at a winter’s moon, Red howlers making the forest vibrate with their roaring cries. I have heard the squeak, purr and grunt of a hundred multi-coloured reef fishes. I have seen hummingbirds flashing like opals round a tree of scarlet blooms, humming like a top. I have seen flying fish, skittering like quicksilver across the blue waves, drawing silver lines on the surface with their tails. I have seen Spoonbills flying home to roost like a scarlet banner across the sky. I have seen Whales, black as tar, cushioned on a cornflower blue sea, creating a Versailles of fountain with their breath. I have watched butterflies emerge and sit, trembling, while the sun irons their wings smooth. I have watched Tigers, like flames, mating in the long grass. I have been dive-bombed by an angry Raven, black and glossy as the Devil’s hoof. I have lain in water warm as milk, soft as silk, while around me played a host of Dolphins. I have met a thousand animals and seen a thousand wonderful things. But— All this I did without you. This was my loss. All this I want to do with you. This will be my gain. All this I would gladly have forgone for the sake of one minute of your company, for your laugh, your voice, your eyes, hair, lips, body, and above all for your sweet, ever-surprising mind which is an enchanting quarry in which it is my privilege to delve.

Your challenge as #GIRLBOSS is to dive headfirst into things without being too attached to the results. When your goal is to gain experience, perspective, and knowledge, failure is no longer a possibility. Failure is your invention.I believe that there is a silver lining in everything, and once you being to see it, you'll need sunglasses to combat the glare. It is she who listens to the rest of the world who fails, and it is she who has enough confidence to define success and failure for herself who succeeds. These words were not invented for an incremental life. "Success" and "failure" serve a world that is black-and-white. And as I said before, it's all just kinda grey.

But let us be generous. We will not shoot them. We will not pour salt water into them, nor bury them in bedbugs, nor bridle them into a “swan dive,” nor keep them on sleepless “stand-up” for a week, nor kick them with jackboots, nor beat them with rubber truncheons, nor squeeze their skulls in iron rings, nor push them into a cell so that they lie atop one another like pieces of baggage—we will not do any of the things they did! But for the sake of our country and our children we have the duty to seek them all out and bring them all to trial! Not to put them on trial so much as their crimes. And to compel each one of them to announce loudly: “Yes, I was an executioner and a murderer.

His life coiled back into the brown murk of the past like a twined filament of electric wire; he gave life, a pattern, and movement to these million sensations that Chance, the loss or gain of a moment, the turn of the head, the enormous and aimless impulsion of accident, had thrust into the blazing heat of him. His mind picked out in white living brightness these pinpoints of experience and the ghostliness of all things else became more awful because of them. So many of the sensations that returned to open haunting vistas of fantasy and imagining had been caught from a whirling landscape through the windows of the train. And it was this that awed him — the weird combination of fixity and change, the terrible moment of immobility stamped with eternity in which, passing life at great speed, both the observer and the observed seem frozen in time. There was one moment of timeless suspension when the land did not move, the train did not move, the slattern in the doorway did not move, he did not move. It was as if God had lifted his baton sharply above the endless orchestration of the seas, and the eternal movement had stopped, suspended in the timeless architecture of the absolute. Or like those motion-pictures that describe the movements of a swimmer making a dive, or a horse taking a hedge — movement is petrified suddenly in mid-air, the inexorable completion of an act is arrested. Then, completing its parabola, the suspended body plops down into the pool. Only, these images that burnt in him existed without beginning or ending, without the essential structure of time. Fixed in no-time, the slattern vanished, fixed, without a moment of transition. His sense of unreality came from time and movement, from imagining the woman, when the train had passed, as walking back into the house, lifting a kettle from the hearth embers. Thus life turned shadow, the living lights went ghost again. The boy among the calves. Where later? Where now? I am, he thought, a part of all that I have touched and that has touched me, which, having for me no existence save that which I gave to it, became other than itself by being mixed with what I then was, and is now still otherwise, having fused with what I now am, which is itself a cumulation of what I have been becoming. Why here? Why there? Why now? Why then? The fusion of the two strong egotisms, Eliza’s inbrooding and Gant’s expanding outward, made of him a fanatical zealot in the religion of Chance. Beyond all misuse, waste, pain, tragedy, death, confusion, unswerving necessity was on the rails; not a sparrow fell through the air but that its repercussion acted on his life, and the lonely light that fell upon the viscous and interminable seas at dawn awoke sea-changes washing life to him. The fish swam upward from the depth.

Take any emotion—love for a woman, or grief for a loved one, or what I’m going through, fear and pain from a deadly illness. If you hold back on the emotions—if you don’t allow yourself to go all the way through them—you can never get to being detached, you’re too busy being afraid. You’re afraid of the pain, you’re afraid of the grief. You’re afraid of the vulnerability that loving entails. “But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. You know what pain is. You know what love is. You know what grief is. And only then can you say, ‘All right. I have experienced that emotion. I recognize that emotion. Now I need to detach from that emotion for a moment.

In the sea, perhaps, time itself is slowed by the water's weight and viscosity. Even with just my hands in Kali's or Octavia's tank, time proceeds at a different pace. Perhaps, I muse, this is the pace at which the Creator thinks, in this weighty, graceful, liquid manner-like blood flows, not like synapses fire. Above the surface, we move and think like wiggly children, or like teens who twitch away at their computer-phones, multitasking but never focusing. But the ocean forces you to move more slowly, more purposefully, and yet more pliantly. By entering it, you are bathed in a grace and power you don't experience in air. To dive beneath the surface feels like entering the Earth's vast, dreaming subconscious. Submitting to its depth, its currents, its pressure, is both humbling and freeing.

In order to find what the concept of God is pointing to, you must let go of your image of God and every concept you have about God. You must dare to be void of all concepts and enter into perfect Emptiness, perfect stillness, and perfect silence. You must forget everything you have ever learned about God. It won‘t help you. It may comfort you, but such comfort is imaginary; it is an illusion. Let go of all the false comforts of the mind. Let them all come to an end. The end must be experienced full yin Stillness. When you let all images, all concepts, all hopes, and all beliefs end, Stillness is experienced. Experience the core of Stillness. Dive into it and surrender fully. In full surrender to Stillness, you directly experience That to which the concept of God points. In that direct experience, you awaken from the dream of the mind and realize that the concept of God points to who you truly are. (p. 20-21)

HAPPINESS: "Flourishing is a fact, not a feeling. We flourish when we grow and thrive. We flourish when we exercise our powers. We flourish when we become what we are capable of becoming...Flourishing is rooted in action..."happiness is a kind of working of the soul in the way of perfect excellence"...a flourishing life is a life lived along lines of excellence...Flourishing is a condition that is created by the choices we make in the world we live in...Flourishing is not a virtue, but a condition; not a character trait, but a result. We need virtue to flourish, but virtue isn't enough. To create a flourishing life, we need both virtue and the conditions in which virtue can flourish...Resilience is a virtue required for flourishing, bur being resilient will not guarantee that we will flourish. Unfairness, injustice, and bad fortune will snuff our promising lives. Unasked-for pain will still come our way...We can build resilience and shape the world we live in. We can't rebuild the world...three primary kinds of happiness: the happiness of pleasure, the happiness of grace, and happiness of excellence...people who are flourishing usually have all three kinds of happiness in their lives...Aristotle understood: pushing ourselves to grow, to get better, to dive deeper is at the heart of happiness...This is the happiness that goes hand in hand with excellence, with pursuing worthy goals, with growing mastery...It is about the exercise of powers. The most common mistake people make in thinking about the happiness of excellence is to focus on moments of achievement. They imagine the mountain climber on the summit. That's part of the happiness of excellence, and a very real part. What counts more, though, is not the happiness of being there, but the happiness of getting there. A mountain climber heads for the summit, and joy meets her along the way. You head for the bottom of the ocean, and joy meets you on the way down...you create joy along the way...the concept of flow, the kind of happiness that comes when we lose ourselves through complete absorption in a rewarding task...the idea of flow..."Contrary to what we usually believe, moments like these, the best moments in our lives, are not the passive, receptive, relaxing times...The best moments usually occur when a person's body or mind is stretched to its limit in a voluntary effort to accomplish something difficult and worthwhile."...Joy, like sweat, is usually a byproduct of your activity, not your aim...A focus on happiness will not lead to excellence. A focus on excellence will, over time, lead to happiness. The pursuit of excellence leads to growth, mastery, and achievement. None of these are sufficient for happiness, yet all of them are necessary...the pull of purpose, the desire to feel "needed in this world" - however we fulfill that desire - is a very powerful force in a human life...recognize that the drive to live well and purposefully isn't some grim, ugly, teeth-gritting duty. On the contrary: "it's a very good feeling." It is really is happiness...Pleasures can never make up for an absence of purposeful work and meaningful relationships. Pleasures will never make you whole...Real happiness comes from working together, hurting together, fighting together, surviving together, mourning together. It is the essence of the happiness of excellence...The happiness of pleasure can't provide purpose; it can't substitute for the happiness of excellence. The challenge for the veteran - and for anyone suddenly deprived of purpose - is not simple to overcome trauma, but to rebuild meaning. The only way out is through suffering to strength. Through hardship to healing. And the longer we wait, the less life we have to live...We are meant to have worthy work to do. If we aren't allowed to struggle for something worthwhile, we'll never grow in resilience, and we'll never experience complete happiness.

i met your mother for the first time today, and i felt your pain through her eyes. i saw your self-esteem in her body language. i heard your insecurities in her laugh. she gave you life, and in turn, you’ve given life to the things she dislikes about herself. she experienced life, and in turn, you’ve adopted her experiences and made them your own. your whole life, you’ve lived up to skewed ideologies of how a woman should be and how a woman should conduct herself. your whole life, you’ve looked up to faux versions of what a woman should be and what a woman must consist of to be worthy. your whole life, you’ve been drinking water from a source dripping in your mother’s trauma and heartache, and it’s poisoned the perception you have of yourself and the perception you have of the world. you’ve dived deep to find answers to your mother’s pain only to find yourself at her feet every time you come up for air. you’ve been swimming in your mother’s tears for too long, drowning in a battle that was never yours to begin with. there is much she taught you that you must unlearn so you may become your own woman. there is much she taught you that you must unlearn so your daughters may become their own women. there is much she taught you that you must forgive her for so you may finally begin your own healing. i met your mother for the first time today, and i feel like i finally met you.

Let’s return to the question of the ocean tides. The cause of the twice-daily rising and falling of the seas is exactly the same as the cause of the 2,000-Mile Man’s discomfort: the non-uniformity of gravity. But in this case, it’s the Moon’s gravity, not the Earth’s. The Moon’s pull on the oceans is strongest on the side of the Earth facing the Moon and weakest on the far side. You might expect the Moon to create a single oceanic bulge on the closer side, but that’s wrong. For the same reason that the tall man’s head is pulled away from his feet, the water on both sides of the Earth—near and far—bulges away from it. One way to think about this is that on the near side, the Moon pulls the water away from the Earth, but on the far side, it pulls the Earth away from the water. The result is two bulges on opposite sides of the Earth, one facing toward the Moon and the other facing away. As the Earth turns one revolution under the bulges, each point experiences two high tides. The distorting forces caused by variations in the strength and direction of gravity are called tidal forces, whether they are due to the Moon, Earth, Sun, or any other astronomical mass. Can humans of normal size feel tidal forces—for example, when jumping from a diving board? No, we cannot, but only because we are so small that the Earth’s gravitational field hardly varies across the length of our bodies. Descent

The ocean made space for me, pressing against the blackness of my assumed skin, buoying me and counter-acting the heaviness of the lead fastened around my waist. I kicked and continued my initial dive, feeling the pressures sliding back against my belly and legs, the quiet acceptance of the seas. Space and oceans have much in common, both are alien to us, not our element, both contain mysteries, dangers, sudden beauties of their own and beyond our land-bound experience. But space is a container of nothingness, a vacuum, a void of immeasurable loneliness and occasional transcendence. Water is a repository of life, and the life asserts itself as you move through the ocean; creatures large and small, beautiful or stunningle grotesque according to their custom, aquatic forests and microscopic landscapes, beings caught between the layers of life, rocks made of living creatures and living creatures made of stone, vegetable animals and animated plants and sudden deep, heart-breaking, lovely jewels that flick their trailing rainbows and dart away from you between the fronds of weeds, leaving shimmering mysteries that can be pursued, but never truly caught and comprehended. Space does not care whether you are there or not, and the struggle to survive between worlds is a fight to avoid being sucked into a vacuum, into an ultimate nil. Implacable in its indifference, it kills you simply because it is, and crushes you with the weight of your knowledge of its indifference. But the ocean is not indifferent. It reacts and shapes itself to your presence or absence, presents its laws as implacable realities, but an instant later displays the very non-exemplar of that rule swimming calmly through the depths. Accept the strangeness and the ocean opens to you, gives you freedom and beauty, a hook into otherness. But wonder approached in fear is cancelled, disappears into threathening shiverings of distant plants, into terrifying movements of bulky darkness through the rocks.

But we have, if not our understanding, our own experience, and it feels to me sealed, inviolable, ours. We have a last, deep week together, because Wally is not on morphine yet, because he has just enough awareness, just enough ability to communicate with me. I’m with him almost all day and night- little breaks, for swimming, for walking the dogs. Outside it snows and snows, deeper and deeper; we seem to live in a circle of lamplight. I rub his feet, make him hot cider. All week I feel like we’re taking one another in, looking and looking. I tell him I love him and he says I love you, babe, and then when it’s too hard for him to speak he smiles back at me with the little crooked smile he can manage now, and I know what it means. I play music for him, the most encompassing and quiet I can find: Couperin, Vivaldi, the British soprano Lesley Garret singing arias he loved, especially the duet from Lakme: music of freedom, diving, floating. How can this be written? Shouldn’t these sentences simply be smithereened apart, broken in a hurricane? All that afternoon he looks out at us though a little space in his eyes, but I know he sees and registers: I know that he’s loving us, actively; if I know nothing else about this man, after nearly thirteen years, I know that. I bring all the animals, and then I sit there myself, all afternoon, the lamps on. The afternoon’s so quiet and deep it seems almost to ring, like chimes, a cold, struck bell. I sit into the evening, when he closes his eyes. There is an inaudible roaring, a rush beneath the surface of things, beneath the surface of Wally, who has now almost no surface- as if I could see into him, into the great hurrying current, that energy, that forward motion which is life going on. I was never this close to anyone in my life. His living’s so deep and absolute that it pulls me close to that interior current, so far inside his life. And my own. I know I am going to be more afraid than I have ever been, but right now I am not afraid. I am face to face with the deepest movement in the world, the point of my love’s deepest reality- where he is most himself, even if that self empties out into no one, swift river hurrying into the tumble of rivers, out of individuality, into the great rushing whirlwind of currents. All the love in the world goes with you.

You’re still holding my arm.” “I know.” So this was it, she thought, and struggled to keep her voice. “Should I ask you to let go?” “I wouldn’t bother.” She drew a deep, steadying breath. “All right. What do you want, Roman?” “To get this out of the way, for both of us.” He rose. Her step backward was instinctive, and much more surprising to her than to him. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.” “Neither do I.” With his free hand, he gathered up her hair. It was soft, as he’d known it would be. Thick and full and so soft that his fingers dived in and were lost. “But I’d rather regret something I did than something I didn’t do.” “I’d rather not regret at all.” “Too late.” He heard her suck in her breath as he yanked her against him. “One way or the other, we’ll both have plenty to regret.” He was deliberately rough. He knew how to be gentle, though he rarely put the knowledge into practice. With her, he could have been. Perhaps because he knew that, he shoved aside any desire for tenderness. He wanted to frighten her, to make certain that when he let her go she would run, run away from him, because he wanted so badly for her to run to him. Buried deep in his mind was the hope that he could make her afraid enough, repelled enough, to send him packing. If she did, she would be safe from him, and he from her. He thought he could accomplish it quickly. Then, suddenly, it was impossible to think at all. She tasted like heaven. He’d never believed in heaven, but the flavor was on her lips, pure and sweet and promising. Her hand had gone to his chest in an automatic defensive movement. Yet she wasn’t fighting him, as he’d been certain she would. She met his hard, almost brutal kiss with passion laced with trust. His mind emptied. It was a terrifying experience for a man who kept his thoughts under such stringent control. Then it filled with her, her scent, her touch, her taste. He broke away-for his sake now, not for hers. He was and had always been a survivor. His breath came fast and raw. One hand was still tangled in her hair, and his other was clamped tight on her arm. He couldn’t let go. No matter how he chided himself to release her, to step back and walk away, he couldn’t move. Staring at her, he saw his own reflection in her eyes. He cursed her-it was a lack quick denial-before he crushed his mouth to hers again. It wasn’t heaven he was heading for, he told himself. It was hell.

The Personal Job Advertisement These two activities are likely to have encouraged some clearer ideas about genuine career possibilities, but you should not assume that you are necessarily the best judge of what might offer you fulfilment. Writing a Personal Job Advertisement allows you to seek the advice of other people. The concept behind this task is the opposite of a standard career search: imagine that newspapers didn’t advertise jobs, but rather advertised people who were looking for jobs. You do it in two steps. First, write a half-page job advertisement that tells the world who you are and what you care about in life. Put down your talents (e.g. you speak Mongolian, can play the bass guitar), your passions (e.g. ikebana, scuba diving), and the core values and causes you believe in (e.g. wildlife preservation, women’s rights). Include your personal qualities (e.g. you are quick-witted, impatient, lacking self-confidence). And record anything else that is important to you – a minimum salary or that you want to work abroad. Make sure you don’t include any particular job you are keen on, or your educational qualifications or career background. Keep it at the level of underlying motivations and interests. Here comes the intriguing part. Make a list of ten people you know from different walks of life and who have a range of careers – maybe a policeman uncle or a cartoonist friend – and email them your Personal Job Advertisement, asking them to recommend two or three careers that might fit with what you have written. Tell them to be specific – for example, not replying ‘you should work with children’ but ‘you should do charity work with street kids in Rio de Janeiro’. You will probably end up with an eclectic list of careers, many of which you would never have thought of yourself. The purpose is not only to give you surprising ideas for future careers, but also to help you see your many possible selves. After doing these three activities, and having explored the various dimensions of meaning, you should feel more confident about making a list of potential careers that offer the promise of meaningful work. What should you do next? Certainly not begin sending out your CV. Rather, as the following chapter explains, the key to finding a fulfilling career is to experiment with these possibilities in that rather frightening place called the real world. It’s time to take a ‘radical sabbatical’.

The sun rose at 7 A.M. each day, and that’s when the SpaceX team got to work. A series of meetings would take place with people listing what needed to get done, and debating solutions to lingering problems. As the large structures arrived, the workers placed the body of the rocket horizontally in a makeshift hangar and spent hours melding together all of its parts. “There was always something to do,” Hollman said. “If the engine wasn’t a problem, then there was an avionics problem or a software problem.” By 7 P.M., the engineers wound down their work. “One or two people would decide it was their night to cook, and they would make steak and potatoes and pasta,” Hollman said. “We had a bunch of movies and a DVD player, and some of us did a lot of fishing off the docks.” For many of the engineers, this was both a torturous and magical experience. “At Boeing you could be comfortable, but that wasn’t going to happen at SpaceX,” said Walter Sims, a SpaceX tech expert who found time to get certified to dive while on Kwaj. “Every person on that island was a fucking star, and they were always holding seminars on radios or the engine. It was such an invigorating place.

An interesting experience shared by some participants was that they eagerly returned to their optional technologies only to learn they had lost their taste for them. Here, for example, is how Kate described this experience to me: The day the declutter was over, I raced back to Facebook, to my old blogs, to Discord, gleeful and ready to dive back in—and then, after about thirty minutes of aimless browsing, I kind of looked up and thought . . . why am I doing this? This is . . . boring? This isn’t bringing me any kind of happiness. It took a declutter for me to notice that these technologies aren’t actually adding anything to my life. She hasn’t used those services since.

To understand this new frontier, I will have to try to master one of the most difficult and counterintuitive theories ever recorded in the annals of science: quantum physics. Listen to those who have spent their lives immersed in this world and you will have a sense of the challenge we face. After making his groundbreaking discoveries in quantum physics, Werner Heisenberg recalled, "I repeated to myself again and again the question: Can nature possibly be so absurd as it seemed to us in these atomic experiments?" Einstein declared after one discovery, "If it is correct it signifies the end of science." Schrödinger was so shocked by the implications of what he'd cooked up that he admitted, "I do not like it and I am sorry I had anything to do with it." Nevertheless, quantum physics is now one of the most powerful and well-tested pieces of science on the books. Nothing has come close to pushing it off its pedestal as one of the great scientific achievements of the last century. So there is nothing to do but to dive headfirst into this uncertain world. Feynman has some good advice for me as I embark on my quest: "I am going to tell you what nature behaves like. If you will simply admit that maybe she does behave like this, you will find her a delightful, entrancing thing. Do not keep saying to yourself, if you can possibly avoid it, 'But how can it be like that?' because you will get 'down the drain,' into a blind alley from which nobody has yet escaped. Nobody knows how it can be like that.

in my experience, it’s not about how big our faith is. What matters is how big our God is.

Recently, we have learned that some matriarchal, long-lived whales, such as orcas and belugas, also experience menopause. Grandmother whales increase the survival of their grand-offspring by passing on freshly caught salmon to young calves and guarding them on the ocean surface while their mother takes off for a deep dive.43

The extraordinary experiences tended to represent one of three buckets: life milestone—graduation, landing a great job, getting married, having a baby, having grandchildren once-in-a-lifetime vacation—climbing Machu Picchu, traveling to Paris, diving the Great Blue Hole in Belize cultural event—going to a concert, attending a professional sporting event, eating at a world-renowned restaurant

Finally, in 2007, Drs. David and Collins combined their previous studies into one deep dive that appeared in the American Journal of Public Health. For this study, they not only considered the effects of race but also looked at the more provocative question of what impact racism had on Black mothers and their babies. The pair spoke with Black women who had babies with normal weights at birth, comparing them with those whose babies were born under three pounds. They asked the mothers if they had ever been treated unfairly because of their race when looking for a job, in an educational setting, or in other situations. Those who experienced discrimination had a twofold increase in low birth weights. For those who reported discrimination in all three areas, the increase was nearly threefold. The researchers’ conclusion: low birth weights among African American women have more to do with the experience of racism than with race.

Life has got no purpose and this is the beauty of it. life is the purpose, the journey is the purpose, love is life purpose and life itself just like love itself is the purpose. once you can understand that this is the Absolut truth then all your ways of living will change. because if there is no purpose in life itself there is no need to create any purpose, no need to invent any purpose, you just love your experience, you just live now, you love your short journey here. But the society invented purposes and goals, and when you fail to achieve these fake goals, you dive into depression! You feel defeated, you feel like a loser, you feel like an outsider. You then start to hide your true nature , you do not except yourself anymore .. unfortunately, we had been thought this lie since childhood that we need to BECOME instead of the need TO BE.

Had this been an isolated experience, he would have chalked it up to the nature of their mission and the monster they were chasing. Only it wasn’t isolated. Seven years earlier, Jonas had experienced a similar series of dreams while on-board the navy transport, the Maxine D. It had been these night terrors that he secretly credited for saving his life on his last dive into the Mariana Trench. Despite Frank Heller’s accusations, Jonas knew now that he hadn’t panicked when the Meg had attacked the Sea Cliff. In fact, he had reacted with lightning-quick reflexes from hours of mentally rehearsing what he would do if the submersible had been threatened by the biologic they had first detected on sonar hours earlier… a state of paranoia implanted by the dreams.

It is worth noting here that, at Amazon, even the most senior executives review the full WBR deck of metrics, including all the inputs and outputs. Metrics—as well as anecdotes about the customer experience—are the area where the leadership principle Dive Deep is most clearly demonstrated by senior leaders. They carefully examine the trends and changes in the metrics; audit incidents, failures, and customer anecdotes; and consider whether the input metrics should be updated in some way to improve the outputs.

If you hold back on the emotions--you can never get being detached, you're too busy being afraid. But by throwing yourself into these emotions, by allowing yourself to dive in, all the way, over your head even, you experience them fully and completely. Wash yourself with the emotion. It won't hurt you. It will only help. You let go, let the tears flow, feel it completely.

You and me on the shores of river of life Standing there with you holding your hand, Just looking at you in the idleness of the moment, As I feel your breaths and beside you I stand, There is endless calm, yet I understand what you meant, So I walk with you through the serpentine gullies, And I greet life with a smile and never floundering will, While being pleased by sites of rainbows and lilies, That dance for you at their own free will, I hold on to your hand more firmly, And I turn to look at you and you smile, And I say, “I love you,” and I say it finally, You pause, and think for a while, As you slide your hand tenderly, To place it on my face, And then you kiss me sweetly, And my heart beats race, I hold your hand once again, And we continue walking through these serpentine gullies, As I rub your little finger again and again, And I feel the scent growing all over you, the scent of these happy lilies, Then we approach the river of life, And at its shores you embrace me, And you finally say, “I want to be your wife,” Then you hold me and we stare at the river, just you and me, And as we enter its water and we flow with it now, You dissolve in me and I dissolve in you, And we now flow as an essence of you and me and our love, But whenever I look back Irma, I see a reflection of you, Still at the shore, Where I hold your hand while the river of life flows by, There are no worries no torments anymore, Because we have together left them in the past to die, And as your reflection spreads over the river of life, You flow unto me, And as I accept you as my wife, In the presence of the river of life, you say, “this is how I always wanted to be!” And then I too become the river and flow within it, To flow with you into the sea of eternity, And then be there forever, only with you and with it, And experience love in its splendour of eternity, Where you live forever, And I exist within you, In this sea of feelings and love, as your only lover, While experiencing that loving embrace of you, For which I could cross any river and scale the depths of any sea, Because loving you is a discovery unto my own self, And when I dive into my life’s sea, You rise from the floor of the sea and you begin to flow through me yourself, Then my darling Irma, I let it be, Because our river of life has found its final destiny, Where I belong to you and you belong only to me, And I wish this to be our only and everlasting reality!

Unlock the captivating stories of remarkable individuals with our FPBiography collection. Dive into the lives of history's greatest heroes, visionaries, and trailblazers. With FPBiography, you're not just buying a book; you're embarking on a journey of knowledge, motivation, and inspiration. Discover the Benefits: Unparalleled Inspiration: Immerse yourself in the extraordinary lives of iconic figures who changed the course of history. Their stories will ignite your passion and drive. Insightful Wisdom: Learn from the experiences, triumphs, and even setbacks of these luminaries. Gain valuable insights that can empower you to overcome challenges in your own life. Engaging Narratives: Our FPBiographies are meticulously crafted to keep you hooked from the first page to the last. Say goodbye to dull reading and hello to captivating storytelling. Real-Life Role Models: Let these extraordinary individuals become your role models. Witness their journey from adversity to achievement and be motivated to pursue your dreams relentlessly. Timeless Appeal: FPBiographies are not just books; they are a timeless investment in your personal growth. Share these stories with generations to come and inspire a legacy of greatness. With FPBiography, you have the opportunity to own a piece of history and wisdom. Seize the chance to immerse yourself in narratives that have the power to transform your life. Don't miss out on this opportunity to gain access to the secrets of success and resilience. Order your FPBiography today and start your journey towards a brighter, more inspired future. Embrace the power of knowledge, be driven by the stories of legends, and become the hero of your own life story!

Unlock the captivating stories of remarkable individuals with our FPBiography.com collection. Dive into the lives of history's greatest heroes, visionaries, and trailblazers. With FPBiography, you're not just buying a book; you're embarking on a journey of knowledge, motivation, and inspiration. Discover the Benefits: Unparalleled Inspiration: Immerse yourself in the extraordinary lives of iconic figures who changed the course of history. Their stories will ignite your passion and drive. Insightful Wisdom: Learn from the experiences, triumphs, and even setbacks of these luminaries. Gain valuable insights that can empower you to overcome challenges in your own life. Engaging Narratives: Our FPBiographies are meticulously crafted to keep you hooked from the first page to the last. Say goodbye to dull reading and hello to captivating storytelling. Real-Life Role Models: Let these extraordinary individuals become your role models. Witness their journey from adversity to achievement and be motivated to pursue your dreams relentlessly. Timeless Appeal: FPBiographies are not just books; they are a timeless investment in your personal growth. Share these stories with generations to come and inspire a legacy of greatness. With FPBiography, you have the opportunity to own a piece of history and wisdom. Seize the chance to immerse yourself in narratives that have the power to transform your life. Don't miss out on this opportunity to gain access to the secrets of success and resilience. Order your FPBiography today and start your journey towards a brighter, more inspired future. Embrace the power of knowledge, be driven by the stories of legends, and become the hero of your own life story!

Of course I wanted to taste other foods, hear other languages, dive into other cultures, but what I really craved was “connection” with a capital “C.” I wanted to experience what the Chinese call Tao, the Greeks call Logos, the Hindus call Jñāna, the Buddhists call Dharma. What the Christians call Spirit.

I spent two years diving into the Botnet, following the research where it led, only to discover that many of these systems' designers long ago lost control. As humans, we see things from a perspective of personal gain—security, safety, money, wealth, etc. When interacting with a species that doesn’t have these as core motivations, it can be quite easy to miss the SELF for the sake of SELF-INTEREST.

To read temple drawings, start with the Neter. Often the Neter is offering the Ankh to the King's nose (you), giving you the breath of life. Every breath inhaled is the most diving gift you could receive. Through our breath, we have contact with the divine energy of the creator, whether we are aware of it or not.

Fiorito’s lab was arranged with two rows of tanks lining a central walkway, one octopus in each tank. (Octopuses are generally not social creatures and can even be cannibalistic.) On this particular day, David had chosen a tank in the left-hand row, about halfway along. When I walked in to see what was going on, I was astonished to see all the octopuses on the other side of the walkway pressed up against the glass of their tanks, every one of them staring intently at David while he repeatedly lowered his objects into his chosen tank. The observing octopuses seemed to be trying to figure out what was going on for no other reason than the sheer interest of it. Being among octopuses, even for a short time, left me with an impression of an intelligence, and a conscious presence, very different from any other – and certainly very different from our own human incarnation. This of course was a subjective impression, necessarily tainted by the biases of anthropomorphism and anthropocentrism, and open to the charge of taking intelligence as a sign of sentience. But the octopus is objectively remarkable too, and spending some time with them can push our intuitions about how different a non-human consciousness might be. The most recent common ancestor of humans and octopuses lived about 600 million years ago. Little is known about this ancient creature. Perhaps it was some kind of flattened worm. Whatever it looked like, it must have been a very simple animal. Octopus minds are not aquatic spinoffs from our own, or indeed from any other species with a backbone, past or present. The mind of an octopus is an independently created evolutionary experiment, as close to the mind of an alien as we are likely to encounter on this planet. As scuba-diving philosopher Peter Godfrey-Smith put it, ‘If we want to understand other minds, the minds of cephalopods are the most other of all.

Every day on Earth, our souls carry around a physical body whose cells are constantly growing, dying, and changing. Without these bodies, our souls couldn’t spend valuable time on the physical dimension learning and evolving. A scuba diver needs the warmth of a wet suit, a tank of oxygen, a compass, and a clock to wander the depths of the ocean. So, too, do our souls need the body to accomplish our tasks on Earth. And just as the diver’s oxygen tank eventually empties, our bodies ultimately stop functioning. The diver doesn’t spend his entire time underwater fretting about when his oxygen will run out. He knows that it will happen sooner or later, so he just enjoys marveling at the sights below the surface. He may be having a great time or just come upon an interesting shipwreck, but when the clock goes off, it’s time to go to the surface. There are no two ways about it. It certainly doesn’t mean that he can’t go back down again later. It’s just part of the experience. When the diver surfaces, he may slap on a new tank and dive back in, or he might lie on the boat and contemplate the journey he’s just completed. Throughout history, humans have looked upon death as something to fear. It’s fear of the unknown. It’s because God, in infinite wisdom, has awakened our awareness of reality while we’re in the depths of the ocean with a finite amount of oxygen, and we don’t know what will happen when the tank runs out. We don’t know that above the surface is the actual reality: our real “home.” We’ll dive with many friends, and when their tanks run out, they’ll have to go. We’ll miss them, of course, but when our time is up, we’ll see them topside. The last thing our friends would want is for us to spend the rest of our time mourning their absence. If we are to live with any measure of peace and die with any sense of acceptance, it is up to us to come to terms with how we view “death.

My all-time favorite mantra: “My body is for living, not looking.” It’s for cuddling my cat, flooding me with pleasure, enjoying a favorite book, traveling to places that fill me with awe, laughing with my friends until my stomach hurts. My body is the vessel through which I experience life, not the lens through which people experience me. It was not made to serve as eye candy for other people, particularly when that comes at the detriment of my own experience. It was made to allow me to live. WANT TO DIVE DEEPER?

This sequence of the falling drop is also a model of the transformations we experience in our growth to maturity. We would do well to face every exterior and interior problem of our lives like a water drop, diving in, immersing ourselves, getting deeply involved, prepared to recognize and accept the motives behind our wounds and traumas and, by extension, our responsibilities. Only then can we inscribe a ‘crater’ inside and outside of us, a wound, an empty space to be filled: the crater means that our actions will leave a concrete trace in reality. From this crater a new force will spring to the top like a crown and will lift us up with it. We will form a new multi-dimensional identity (the suspended droplets at the top) and with our unique and unrepeatable contribution we will overcome gravity. Then we will be ready to fall again, differently this time, leaving further traces, integrating ourselves in the spiritual sea of humanity.

Salvage experience proved that a fair proportion of Japanese bombs and torpedoes failed to explode. This was especially true of the 800 kilogram bombs dropped from about 10,000 feet. These were made over from armor-piercing shells of 14 or 15-inch size, and were intended to pierce the armored decks of battleships, aircraft carriers, or cruisers. They had an explosive charge of about 430 pounds. On the other hand, the 250 kilogram bombs used by dive-bombers were very effective and were frequently mistaken for incendiary bombs by our forces. The explosive charge of these bombs was about 135 pounds.

He has been in this position before, so knows relief is soon incoming. All Abernathy must do is await a DEATH OF THE SELF to kick in. DEATH OF THE SELF is a type of thing his brain does whenever he has to keep on keeping on. You know, despite it all. Once his self dies (the ego-y, embarrassed part of him that feels things), he can do anything. He can work sixteen doubles, dumpster dive at midnight, walk three hours home in the rain, you name it. Experience tragedy. Homelessness. Loss. If there is no one inside him, if he vacates his own body's premises, there is no one to experience the humiliation that goes hand in hand with poverty.

Every day is a chance to outsmart yesterday's version of yourself. So, why settle for the status quo when you can upgrade your brain's software with a daily dose of enlightenment? Dive into the pool of knowledge like a playful dolphin, flipping and frolicking through new ideas and insights. With each discovery, you're not just learning; you're leveling up your life game.

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If you are limiting your experiences of intimacy only to containers labeled sex and romance, you are entirely missing out. ⁠ ⁠ Love your friends with wild abandon. Cultivate life partnerships with humans you’ll never know sexually. Dive deep into a love affair that doesn’t have a damn thing to do with being swept off your feet or the myth of happily ever after. ⁠ ⁠ Open your eyes, your mind, and your heart to the possibility that the deep intimacy you crave does not get delivered by a rom-com meet cute. ⁠ ⁠ Challenge the notion that your friendships can—and possibly should—hold the highest position in your personal hierarchy of devotion. ⁠ ⁠ Consider the myriad ways you can be met, held, and known outside of our cultural obsession with romantic fairy tales. ⁠ ⁠ The real hunger of your skin, your heart, and your soul, can be answered in so many different ways. If you only look for this level of connection inside of sexual and romantic love, you are missing so many beautiful possibilities. ⁠ Seek your people with intention. ⁠When you find them, invite them in, hold them close, and offer them your whole heart. ⁠ Rewrite the rule book. Reimagine all the ways you can fill your cup of longing.⁠ Open yourself to platonic intimacy.

Pretend for a moment that you are in the horrifying situation of watching one of your children being pulled out to sea in a riptide. Would you just go on eating your lunch? No way. The first thing you would do is to scream to get help rescuing your child. You would simultaneously get all other children out of the water as you dive in and try to rescue the missing child, even knowing the danger and that it is probably too late. If you were sensible enough not to swim out or fortunate enough to get back to shore safely, grief would promote endless rumination about what you could have done to prevent the loss. This would help prevent a repetition with other children. Your sobbing would signal your need for help and warn others about the danger. When a child dies of cancer or pneumonia, speculating about what you might have done to prevent it is mostly useless. However, the tendency to blame is built in, so people do it anyway, blaming themselves, doctors, anyone who was involved. Those motives can create marvelous initiatives, Mothers Against Drunk Driving being a spectacular example. Every community has organizations dedicated to preventing the kind of sickness or accident that carried off a loved member of the community. In our ancestral environment, loved ones must often have simply not returned to camp. Searching for them would have been essential. A loss creates mental preoccupation and a search image tuned to detect relevant cues. In the weeks after a loss, bereaved individuals often think that they see or hear the lost loved one. Tiny random sounds or sights are misinterpreted as the person’s voice or form. Visual and auditory hallucinations arise. Such experiences are sometimes interpreted as wish fulfillment, but a more plausible explanation is that they are products of a search image that makes it easier to find the missing person. False alarms in such a system would be normal, useful, and experienced as ghosts. Anniversary reactions are also common and fascinating. Many people occasionally experience sadness that seems unaccountable, until they realize it is the anniversary of a loss. I doubt that anniversary reactions are adaptive in general; however, in ancestral environments many opportunities and dangers recur with seasonal regularity. So smelling overly ripe apples in an orchard may bring back vivid memories of a fall long ago.

The Importance of Books in Our Lives Books have always been an integral part of human civilization, shaping societies, preserving knowledge, and fostering personal growth. From ancient manuscripts to modern digital eBooks, they provide a gateway to learning, imagination, and personal development. Books serve as a bridge to the past, allowing readers to explore the thoughts, ideas, and cultures of previous generations. They also encourage critical thinking by offering multiple perspectives on topics ranging from philosophy and science to art and fiction. One of the greatest values of books lies in their ability to educate. Whether it's academic textbooks, biographies, or self-help guides, books impart knowledge that helps individuals excel in personal and professional spheres. Students, for example, rely heavily on textbooks to prepare for exams, while professionals may turn to industry-specific literature to stay updated with new trends and technologies. Beyond formal education, reading fosters self-improvement by exposing individuals to new ideas, challenges, and perspectives that expand their thinking and worldview. Books also serve as an escape from reality, providing readers with an opportunity to dive into new worlds and experience life from different perspectives. Fictional genres, such as fantasy, mystery, and romance, offer entertainment while simultaneously inspiring empathy and creativity. A reader can embark on an adventure through the pages of a novel or experience a new culture through travel literature. In this sense, books become companions that help readers unwind, dream, and explore the unknown, even from the comfort of their homes. In addition to their educational and recreational benefits, books play a critical role in personal development. Self-help books guide readers through personal challenges by offering advice on mental health, relationships, or financial management. Biographies of influential personalities inspire readers to overcome obstacles and achieve success. Books also promote empathy by helping readers understand emotions and experiences different from their own. When individuals read about the struggles, triumphs, and perspectives of others, they become more compassionate and socially aware. Furthermore, books foster a lifelong habit of learning and personal reflection. They help develop concentration and focus, as reading requires sustained attention. This is particularly important in the digital age, where people are often distracted by social media and short-form content. Regular reading improves vocabulary, communication skills, and analytical thinking, all of which contribute to personal and professional growth. Additionally, books promote mental well-being, offering a sense of comfort and relaxation to readers. Many people find solace in reading, especially during challenging times, as books can provide both emotional support and practical solutions. Even in a world dominated by technology, the relevance of books remains undiminished. While the formats may change—moving from physical books to audiobooks and eBooks—their essence and purpose remain

Uncertainty fuels experience and teaches you to dive into more adventures.

      •   Share some of your personal experiences in writing the book. Did you take the ferry to San Francisco one day for a fresh perspective? Did you frequent garage sales or flea markets in search of ideas for your characters’ attire? Did you sip a Bombay Sapphire martini at a local dive as you searched for unusual character traits in people?

Jeff Goodby, however, got to see them all. After work, he, Silverstein, Sogard, and a few other guys from the agency went down to a dive bar on Union Street called the Bus Stop, where they got to experience the inaugural batch of ads with an unsuspecting focus group of drunken peers. For a crowd that loved music and loved even more what MTV had encouraged music to become, the bar blasted the Video Music Awards on a dozen televisions as if it were the Super Bowl.

disobeying your earthly father? I do. In fact, one of my most memorable experiences with my dad came after I had spilled a paint can all over the carpet while my parents were remodeling a room. They didn’t see it happen, so I went flying up the stairs and dived under my covers. In a few minutes I could hear the muffled voice of my father discussing how I had ruined the carpet. I tightened the sheet over my head and tried to prop up stuffed animals and pillows so he couldn’t find me. I heard him call out to me. Then I heard his feet coming up the stairs. “Hugh Thomas, where are you?” Trying not to even breathe, I remained silent. Then the door opened with a creak, and I felt his feet moving toward the side of my bed. I was terrified. I knew he had found me. I expected him to grab me by the ankle, jerk me out of the bed, hang me upside down, and whale away on my hind end with a wooden spoon. But he didn’t. I just remember him gently grabbing the corner of the sheet, slowing pulling it up, sliding his face under the covers where he could make eye contact with me, and then saying, “Son, you ruined the carpet, but I love you. Why don’t you come down and help me fix this? I’m not mad, but we have to clean it up, okay?” When God came to find Adam, He was upset, for sure.