Gradual Release Quotes

The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but rather the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.

Gradually, I began to resent Christian school and doubt everything I was told. It became clear that the suffering they were praying to be released from was a suffering they had imposed on themselves—and now us. The beast they lived in fear of was really themselves: It was man, not some mythological demon, that was going to destroy man in the end. And this beast had been created out of their fear.

He is life's liberating force. He is release of limbs and communion through dance. He is laughter, and music in flutes. He is repose from all cares -- he is sleep! When his blood bursts from the grape and flows across tables laid in his honor to fuse with our blood, he gently, gradually, wraps us in shadows of ivy-cool sleep.

I believe that the justification of art is the internal combustion it ignites in the hearts of men and not its shallow, externalized, public manifestations. The purpose of art is not the release of a momentary ejection of adrenaline but is, rather, the gradual, lifelong construction of a state of wonder and serenity.

Yoga talks about cat-pose, dog-pose, camel-pose, monkey-pose, bird-pose etc. Why there are so many animal poses? Animals release their emotions and tensions by movements based on their body sensations. But our amygdala in the brain is carrying the “fight or flight response”; it has forgotten the art of releasing the tensions. As human beings, when we are aware about the sensations, we can release that by aware, slow movements. If you do not give movements to the body parts, energy will be stuck and blood circulation will be disturbed. Gradually, that creates chronic physical and mental health problems.

I believe in that goodly mansion, his heart, he kept one little place under the skylights where Lucy might have entertainment, if she chose to call. It was not so handsome as the chambers where he lodged his male friends; it was not like the hall where he accommodated his philanthropy, or the library where he treasured his science, still less did it resemble the pavilion where his marriage feast was splendidly spread; yet, gradually, by long and equal kindness, he proved to me that he kept one little closet, over the door of which was written " Lucy's Room." I kept a place for him, too—a place of which I never took the measure, either by rule or compass: I think it was like the tent of Peri-Banou. All my life long I carried it folded in the hollow of my hand—yet, released from that hold and constriction, I know not but its innate capacity for expanse might have magnified it into a tabernacle for a host.

Devotion gradually progresses to higher levels. . . . One type goes to God and asks Him to remove his suffering. Another one will ask for money or material things. A third will request liberation or release from his bondage. And the fourth will not ask for anything. He will just enjoy praying and praising his Lord. That is the highest form of prayer. (Beyond Word, 119)

This womens skin is shimmering and pale, her long black hair is tied with dozens of silver ribbons that fall over her shoulders. Her gown is white, covered in what to Bailey looks like looping black embroidery, but as he walks closer he sees that the black marks are actually words written across the fabric. When he is near enough to read parts of the gown, he realizes that they are love letters, inscribed in handwritten text. Words of desire and longing wrapping around her waist, flowing down the train of her gown as it spills over the platform. The statue herself is still, but her hand is held out and only then does Bailey notice the young woman with a red scarf standing in front of her, offering the love letter-clad statue a sungle crimson rose. The movement is so subtle that it is almost undetectable, but slowly, very, very slowly, the statue reaches to accept the rose. Her fingers open, and the young woman with the rose waits patiently as the statue gradually closes her hand around the stem, releasing it only when it is secure. ....The statue is lifting the rose, gradually, to her face. Her eye lids slowly close.

When you choose to focus on today and all the possibilities that lie ahead you automatically release your grip on yesterday. Layers of the past gradually fall away and you are soon set free

Do something every day to change your attitude—instead of trying to think your way into right acting, act your way into right thinking. Act the person you want to be, and gradually that's the person you will become.

Graham’s thoughts of me were not entirely those of a frozen indifference, after all. I believe in that goodly mansion, his heart, he kept one little place under the skylights where Lucy might have entertainment, if she chose to call. It was not so handsome as the chambers where he lodged his male friends; it was not like the hall where he accommodated his philanthropy, or the library where he treasured his science, still less did it resemble the pavilion where his marriage feast was splendidly spread; yet, gradually, by long and equal kindness, he proved to me that he kept one little closet, over the door of which was written ‘Lucy’s Room.’ I kept a place for him too — a place of which I never took the measure, either by rule or compass: I think it was like the tent of Peri-Banou. All my life long I carried it folded in the hollow of my hand — yet, released from that hold and constriction, I knew not but its innate capacity for expanse might have magnified it into a tabernacle for a host.

She had lived thirty-four years keeping everything inside, and now she was letting everything go, like butterflies released from a box. They didn't burst forth, glad to be free, they simply flew away, softly, gradually, so she could watch them go. Good memories of her mother and grandmother were still there, butterflies that stayed, a little too old to go anywhere. That was okay. She would keep those.

It is lonely behind these boundaries. Some people-particularly those whom psychiatrists call schizoid-because of unpleasant, traumatizing experiences in childhood, perceive the world outside of themselves as unredeemably dangerous, hostile, confusing and unnurturing. Such people feel their boundaries to be protecting and comforting and find a sense of safety in their loneliness. But most of us feel our loneliness to be painful and yearn to escape from behind the walls of our individual identities to a condition in which we can be more unified with the world outside of ourselves. The experience of falling in love allows us this escapetemporarily. The essence of the phenomenon of falling in love is a sudden collapse of a section of an individual's ego boundaries, permitting one to merge his or her identity with that of another person. The sudden release of oneself from oneself, the explosive pouring out of oneself into the beloved, and the dramatic surcease of loneliness accompanying this collapse of ego boundaries is experienced by most of us as ecstatic. We and our beloved are one! Loneliness is no more! In some respects (but certainly not in all) the act of falling in love is an act of regression. The experience of merging with the loved one has in it echoes from the time when we were merged with our mothers in infancy. Along with the merging we also reexperience the sense of omnipotence which we had to give up in our journey out of childhood. All things seem possible! United with our beloved we feel we can conquer all obstacles. We believe that the strength of our love will cause the forces of opposition to bow down in submission and melt away into the darkness. All problems will be overcome. The future will be all light. The unreality of these feelings when we have fallen in love is essentially the same as the unreality of the two-year-old who feels itself to be king of the family and the world with power unlimited. Just as reality intrudes upon the two-year-old's fantasy of omnipotence so does reality intrude upon the fantastic unity of the couple who have fallen in love. Sooner or later, in response to the problems of daily living, individual will reasserts itself. He wants to have sex; she doesn't. She wants to go to the movies; he doesn't. He wants to put money in the bank; she wants a dishwasher. She wants to talk about her job; he wants to talk about his. She doesn't like his friends; he doesn't like hers. So both of them, in the privacy of their hearts, begin to come to the sickening realization that they are not one with the beloved, that the beloved has and will continue to have his or her own desires, tastes, prejudices and timing different from the other's. One by one, gradually or suddenly, the ego boundaries snap back into place; gradually or suddenly, they fall out of love. Once again they are two separate individuals. At this point they begin either to dissolve the ties of their relationship or to initiate the work of real loving.

In this way a process of evolution was started that led to the development of more and more complicated, self-reproducing organisms. The first primitive forms of life consumed various materials, including hydrogen sulfide, and released oxygen. This gradually changed the atmosphere to the composition that it has today, and allowed the development of higher forms of life such as fish, reptiles, mammals, and ultimately the human race.

Old Azureus's manner of welcoming people was a silent rhapsody. Ecstatically beaming, slowly, tenderly, he would take your hand between his soft palms, hold it thus as if it were a long sought treasure or a sparrow all fluff and heart, in moist silence, peering at you the while with his beaming wrinkles rather than with his eyes, and then, very slowly, the silvery smile would start to dissolve, the tender old hands would gradually release their hold, a blank expression replace the fervent light of his pale fragile face, and he would leave you as if he had made a mistake, as if after all you were not the loved one - the loved one whom, the next moment, he would espy in another corner, and again the smile would dawn, again the hands would enfold the sparrow, again it would all dissolve.

The real problem here is that we’re all dying. All of us. Every day the cells weaken and the fibres stretch and the heart gets closer to its last beat. The real cost of living is dying, and we’re spending days like millionaires: a week here, a month there, casually spunked until all you have left are the two pennies on your eyes. Personally, I like the fact we’re going to die. There’s nothing more exhilarating than waking up every morning and going ‘WOW! THIS IS IT! THIS IS REALLY IT!’ It focuses the mind wonderfully. It makes you love vividly, work intensely, and realise that, in the scheme of things, you really don’t have time to sit on the sofa in your pants watching Homes Under the Hammer. Death is not a release, but an incentive. The more focused you are on your death, the more righteously you live your life. My traditional closing-time rant – after the one where I cry that they closed that amazing chippy on Tollington Road; the one that did the pickled eggs – is that humans still believe in an afterlife. I genuinely think it’s the biggest philosophical problem the earth faces. Even avowedly non-religious people think they’ll be meeting up with nana and their dead dog, Crackers, when they finally keel over. Everyone thinks they’re getting a harp. But believing in an afterlife totally negates your current existence. It’s like an insidious and destabilising mental illness. Underneath every day – every action, every word – you think it doesn’t really matter if you screw up this time around because you can just sort it all out in paradise. You make it up with your parents, and become a better person and lose that final stone in heaven. And learn how to speak French. You’ll have time, after all! It’s eternity! And you’ll have wings, and it’ll be sunny! So, really, who cares what you do now? This is really just some lacklustre waiting room you’re only going to be in for 20 minutes, during which you will have no wings at all, and are forced to walk around, on your feet, like pigs do. If we wonder why people are so apathetic and casual about every eminently avoidable horror in the world – famine, war, disease, the seas gradually turning piss-yellow and filling with ringpulls and shattered fax machines – it’s right there. Heaven. The biggest waste of our time we ever invented, outside of jigsaws. Only when the majority of the people on this planet believe – absolutely – that they are dying, minute by minute, will we actually start behaving like fully sentient, rational and compassionate beings. For whilst the appeal of ‘being good’ is strong, the terror of hurtling, unstoppably, into unending nullity is a lot more effective. I’m really holding out for us all to get The Fear. The Fear is my Second Coming. When everyone in the world admits they’re going to die, we’ll really start getting some stuff done.

Gradually, she had realized that this was just another wound that would heal if she didn't hold it close, but released the pain and not let it poison her.

Remembering is my only job and it's hard work. We are natural-born amnesiacs, hardwired to let go of the past, to release ourselves from history; the only way to withstand our pain is to forget our pain. We may think we don't forget, but we do. Time wears down the rough edges of our memory, sure as a stone on the river bank is smoothed by the rushing current. And like the eroding stone, the memory fades so gradually we don't even feel it. We don't notice. Eighteen years fly by, whoosh, and we don't even realize that not long ago, we didn't all drink bottled water, the Soviet Union loomed as a threat, smoking was commonplace in restaurants, and Bono was just a rockstar. What I want... all I want... is not to forget. But it's an uphill battle. Over time, the image blurs, the scent dissipates, the memory fades.

Lexium (TM): Trouble with limited vocabulary? These slow-release capsules are imbued with the latest in infra-cerebral nanobots that will gradually encode your brain with hundreds of thousands of new words while reinforcing the neural pathways to facilitate retention and recall. Now available in French. Kane Faucher, Metapharm, Journal of Experimental Fiction #39

Gradually, I began to resent Christian school and doubt everything I was told. It became clear that the suffering they were praying to be released from was a suffering they had imposed on themselves—and now us. The beast they lived in fear of was really themselves: It was man, not some mythological demon, that was going to destroy man in the end. And this beast had been created out of their fear. The seeds of who I am now had been planted. “Fools aren’t born,” I wrote in my notebook one day during ethics class. “They are watered and grown like weeds by institutions such as Christianity.” During dinner that night, I confessed it all to my parents. “Listen,” I explained, “I want to go to public school, because I don’t belong here. Everything I like, they’re against.

Don’t underestimate the significance of this principle. Today in our media-fashioned world many good and talented leaders face the constant temptation to begin believing the text of their own publicity releases. And if they do, a messianic fantasy gradually infects their personalities and leadership styles. Forgetting who they are not, they begin to make dangerous assumptions about who they are.

Suppose, then, that after the greatest , most passionate vividness and tender glory, oblivion is all were have to expect, the big blank of death. What options present themselves? One option is to train yourself gradually into oblivion so that no great change has taken place when you have died. Another option is to increase the bitterness of life so that death is a desirable release. (In this the rest of mankind will fully collaborate.)

The statue herself is still, but her hand is held out, and only then does Bailey notice the young woman with a red scarf standing in front of her, offering the love letter–clad statue a single crimson rose. The movement is so subtle that it is almost undetectable, but slowly, very, very slowly, the statue reaches to accept the rose. Her fingers open, and the young woman with the rose waits patiently as the statue gradually closes her hand around the stem, releasing it only when it is secure.

I don't know what's happening to me," she says, blinking through a veil of tears as she looks everywhere but at me. "I don't think I can do this anymore." My heart plummets inside my chest, my lips still hovering over hers, my hands on her waist "do what anymore?" I don't want the answer, don't want to hear what follows my question, don't want to lose her. "Fight it." Tears are still flowing from her eyes, but I think she stop crying. She sucks and several breaths when she looks at me, her eyes are clear that I anticipated. She's scared shitless - that's clear - but it's like she stop fighting the fear, giving into it instead. Her lips apart and I'm a stop whatever she's about to say, silence her with my lips, but I don't, forcing myself to hear, needing to know what's got all worked up. "I think I'm in love with you," she says, her chest heaving with every ravenous breath she takes, yet her voice is astonishingly even and she manages to maintain my gaze. My voice however is the exact opposite of even, coming out all high-pitched like I'm a thirteen year old and going through puberty all over again. "What?" She sucks and a breath, then releases is slowly, the fear in her eyes subsiding, as if she just won it. "I think I'm in love with you..." She bites on your lips and shakes her head. "No...I don't think. I know." I gradually process her words and the full extent of what she's saying. I think I'd honestly believed that she might never say them, that this love thing was going to be a one-way street. Hearing her say it... I don't even know how to describe it. It's like my entire life of associated the word with hatred. Every time my mother said it, it felt like she was trying to take something from me and it made me hate her and myself-Love equaled hate for me. But hearing it from Violet's lips, seeing that look in her eyes, the one I've never seen from anyone, is so different. She's not taking something for me right now, she's giving me something. She's giving me everything.

I am convinced that this can change, that if people were more aware of how their money is being used, the needless destruction, the monomania, driven by farm subsidies – across Europe and in several other parts of the world – would come to an end. This, more than any other measure, would permit the trees to grow, bring the songbirds back, prompt the gradual recolonization of nature, release the ecological processes that have been suppressed for so long. In other words, it would allow a partial rewilding of the land.

The statue herself is still, but her hand is held out, and only then does Bailey notice the young woman with a red scarf standing in front of her, offering the love letter–clad statue a single crimson rose. The movement is so subtle that it is almost undetectable, but slowly, very, very slowly, the statue reaches to accept the rose. Her fingers open, and the young woman with the rose waits patiently as the statue gradually closes her hand around the stem, releasing it only when it is secure... ...The statue is lifting the rose, gradually, to her face. Her eyelids slowly close.

The divorce of control, or power, from ownership has been due in large part to the growth of public corporations. So long as a single person, family or comparatively small group held a substantial portion of the common shares of a corporation, the legal “owner” could control its affairs. Even if they no longer actually conducted the business, the operating managers were functioning as their accountable agents. But when the enterprise became more vast in scope and at the same time, the stock certificates became spread in small bundles among thousands of persons, the managers were gradually released from subordination to the nominal owners. De facto control passed, for the most part, to non-owning management.

Molten Chocolate Cakes Makes 4 single-serve cakes Ingredients 1 stick unsalted butter 6 ounces semisweet chocolate chips 2 egg yolks 2 eggs ¼ cup sugar 1 teaspoon vanilla extract 2 tablespoons all-purpose flour Directions 1. Preheat the oven to 450°F. 2. Spray the insides of 4 ramekins with baking spray. Put the ramekins on a baking sheet. 3. Microwave the butter and chocolate chips in a microwave-safe bowl for 1 minute. The butter should be almost all melted. The chocolate won’t be completely melted. 4. Whisk the butter and chocolate mixture until smooth. 5. Separate two egg yolks from their whites: Crack both eggs into a bowl without breaking the yolks. Then take an empty, disposable plastic water bottle, squeeze it, hold the opening to a yolk, and then release to suck the yolk into the bottle. Repeat with the second yolk. Then deposit both yolks into a clean bowl by squeezing the bottle and pouring them out. 6. Beat the egg yolks, eggs, sugar, and vanilla extract in an electric mixer on high or with a whisk until the mixture is thick. 7. Fold the butter and chocolate mixture into the egg mixture. 8. Add the flour to the mixture gradually. Don’t overmix. 9. Divide the batter into the 4 ramekins. 10. Bake the cakes for 8 to 12 minutes or until the cakes have risen over the sides of the ramekins and the tops of the cakes no longer jiggle when the baking sheet is given a little shake. The cake centers should still be soft. 11. Remove the cakes from the oven and let them cool for 1 minute. 12. Cover the cakes with upside-down dessert plates, flip the ramekins over, and remove the ramekins from the cakes. Eat immediately!

We have to accept the fact that no word is truly ours. We have to give up the idea that writing miraculously releases a voice of our own, a tonality of our own: in my view that is a lazy way of talking about writing. Writing is, rather, entering an immense cemetery where every tomb is waiting to be profaned. Writing is getting comfortable with everything that has already been written—great literature and commercial literature, if useful, the novel-essay and the screenplay—and in turn becoming, within the limits of one’s own dizzying, crowded individuality, something written. Writing is seizing everything that has already been written and gradually learning to spend that enormous fortune. We mustn’t let ourselves be flattered by those who say: here’s someone who has a tonality of her own. Everything, in writing, has a long history behind it.

Essay on Lust Identity can’t be concise. It’s knit from sequins and lust and scatters. Mostly everyone was fucking the seven arts with a willed difficulty. Then for one day there was the collective sensation that we carried our lovely voices as if in baskets, piled up in clear tones like grapes. Each voice had achieved its particular mass. From an interior space we heard the word sequin repeating in relation to leaves and the image was yellow-gold leaves moving on dark water. We had undergone an influence of death which was itself imprinted on such a moving sequin: the breath sequins, the heartbeat sequins, the organs and their slowing articulation sequins which drifting from the foreground appear to dim since they gradually go out to illuminate some event so distant we will never own the moment of its perception. But all this gives the illusion of peacefulness which is inert or at least passive when breaths burst smashing into sobbed words some urgent errand trapped in these letters as labour of light diminishing rhythm and if we fiercely decide to clear the stupid human stuff stop waiting for something to come to the father-studded earth shouldn’t this impatience release itself as a tongue so new weeping stops. In young women enamoured of their own intensities the Latin element wells up and knits from lust the pelt on the wall that’s ocelot or shadepelt or the imagination of matter. Nothing’s frugal. As for us, we want to give the city what lust has never ceased to put together. Young women or other women carrying their lovely voices as if on platters, their ten voices or nine voices in urgent errand dictating the imagination of matter. It is not our purpose to obscure the song of no-knowledge.

Graham’s thoughts of me were not entirely those of a frozen indifference, after all. I believe in that goodly mansion, his heart, he kept one little place under the sky-lights where Lucy might have entertainment, if she chose to call. It was not so handsome as the chambers where he lodged his male friends; it was not like the hall where he accommodated his philanthropy, or the library where he treasured his science, still less did it resemble the pavilion where his marriage feast was splendidly spread; yet, gradually, by long and equal kindness, he proved to me that he kept one little closet, over the door of which was written “Lucy’s Room.” I kept a place for him, too—a place of which I never took the measure, either by rule or compass: I think it was like the tent of Peri-Banou. All my life long I carried it folded in the hollow of my hand yet, released from that hold and constriction, I know not but its innate capacity for expanse might have magnified it into a tabernacle for a host.

Dia.” “…Noin?” “Is there something that you need to say to me?” “…” It was a total surprise. Dia took a small breath and looked back at his purple eyes. It was exactly because of her beloved person that she felt a feverish and painful mass in her chest, and also trembled in fear and sadness. “…Just tell me when you’re ready. I’ll be patient if you can’t say it now, but not for long. Besides, I have no desire of releasing you. There are many things I can do for you, but you’re aware there are many things you’re unable to do by yourself, right?” “Noin, for I am a very cunning human, I can’t say anything about it because I’m afraid of being abandoned by you if I revealed it… even so, you realized that I was worried about something…” After listening to Dia, Noin sighed slightly before lifting Dia onto his lap. The feeling of his chest against her back made her fear that her heart would spill out. His warmth gradually seeped into her. “You don’t have to go anywhere. I told you, that’s the price.

When West returned, he was completely naked. Phoebe began to turn over, but he straddled her hips and pressed her back lightly to keep her facedown. She lay quietly, aware of the textures of him, the muscles and coarse hair of his thighs, and the silky weight of an erection that felt as long and hard as a raffling pole. There was the sound of a glass stopper in a flask. His warm, strong hands descended to her back, rubbing and massaging, while the scent of almond oil drifted to her nostrils. He squeezed the muscles of her shoulders and worked his way down on either side of her spine, releasing tension and sending ripples of pleasure through her. Phoebe moaned softly. No one had ever done this to her before; she would never have guessed it would feel so lovely. As his palms glided up to her shoulders, the length of his aroused flesh slid along the cleft of her bottom and partly up her back. Clearly he also took pleasure in the massage, making no effort to hide it. He kneaded her lower back and the full curves of her buttocks with increasing pressure until the clenched muscles relaxed. One hand reached down between her thighs to cup the soft pleats of flesh, his fingertips riding tenderly on either side of her swollen, half-hidden nub. A few exquisitely light and indirect strokes, back and forth, caused her breath to catch. He touched the opening of her body, circling into the wetness before one of his fingers- no, two- entered in a gradual but insistent thrust. Her body tried to close against the intrusion, but he was so gentle, his fingers undulating like the sway of water reeds in a slow current. Her legs spread a little, and soon she felt the need to push upward, to take more of him in. As she raised her hips, something inside her loosened and stretched to enclose him. He breathed her name raggedly, seeming to luxuriate in the feel of her, his fingers twisting and curling protean grace. Keeping her crimson face pressed against the cool linen sheets, she squirmed and gasped and arched tightly. As his fingers slid from her body, the opening felt oddly liquid, muscles clenching on emptiness. His weight lowered over her back, the hair of his chest tickling pleasantly as he bent to kiss and lick her shoulders and the nape of her neck.

In accordance with this law, Schiller now devotes himself to a profound examination of the nature of the opposites at work. No matter what obstacle we come up against—provided only it be a difficult one—the discord between our own purpose and the refractory object soon becomes a discord in ourselves. For, while I am striving to subordinate the object to my will, my whole being is gradually brought into relationship with it, following the strong libido investment which, as it were, draws a portion of my being across into the object. The result of this is a partial identification of certain portions of my personality with similar qualities in the object. As soon as this identification has taken place, the conflict is transferred into my own psyche. This “introjection” of the conflict with the object creates an inner discord, making me powerless against the object and also releasing affects, which are always symptomatic of inner disharmony. The affects, however, prove that I am sensing myself and am therefore in a position—if I am not blind—to apply my attention to myself and to follow up the play of opposites in my own psyche. [138]

Gradually my experience has forced me to conclude that the individual has within himself the capacity and the tendency, latent if not evident, to move forward toward maturity. In a suitable psychological climate this tendency is released, and becomes actual rather than potential. It is evident in the capacity of the individual to understand those aspects of his life and of himself which are causing him pain and dissatisfaction, an understanding which probes beneath his conscious knowledge of himself into those experiences which he has hidden from himself because of their threatening nature. It shows itself in the tendency to reorganize his personality and his relationship to life in ways which are regarded as more mature. Whether one calls it a growth tendency, a drive toward self-actualization, or a forward-moving directional tendency, it is the mainspring of life, and is, in the last analysis, the tendency upon which all psychotherapy depends. It is the urge which is evident in all organic and human life—to expand, extend, become autonomous, develop, mature—the tendency to express and activate all the capacities of the organism, to the extent that such activation enhances the organism or the self.

My sour cherry liqueur is especially popular, though I feel a little guilty that I cannot remember the cherry's name. The secret is to leave the stones in. Layer cherries and sugar one on the other in a widemouthed glass jar, covering each layer gradually with clear spirit (kirsch is best, but you can use vodka or even Armagnac) up to half the jar's capacity. Top up with spirit and wait. Every month, turn the jar carefully to release any accumulated sugar. In three years' time the spirit has bled the cherries white, itself stained deep red now, penetrating even to the stone and the tiny almond inside it, becoming pungent, evocative, a scent of autumn past. Serve in tiny liqueur glasses, with a spoon to scoop out the cherry, and leave it in the mouth until the macerated fruit dissolves under the tongue. Pierce the stone with the point of a tooth to release the liqueur trapped inside and leave it for along time in the mouth, playing it with the tip of the tongue, rolling it under, over, like a single prayer bead. Try to remember the time of its ripening, that summer, that hot autumn, the time the well ran dry, the time we had the wasp's nests, time past, lost, found again in the hard place at the heart of the fruit...

Sentenced to a nineteen-year term of hard labor for the crime of stealing bread, Jean Valjean gradually hardened into a tough convict. No one could beat him in a fistfight. No one could break his will. At last Valjean earned his release. Convicts in those days had to carry identity cards, however, and no innkeeper would let a dangerous felon spend the night. For four days he wandered the village roads, seeking shelter against the weather, until finally a kindly bishop had mercy on him. That night Jean Valjean lay still in an overcomfortable bed until the bishop and his sister drifted off to sleep. He rose from his bed, rummaged through the cupboard for the family silver, and crept off into the darkness. The next morning three policemen knocked on the bishop’s door, with Valjean in tow. They had caught the convict in flight with the purloined silver, and were ready to put the scoundrel in chains for life. The bishop responded in a way that no one, especially Jean Valjean, expected. “So here you are!” he cried to Valjean. “I’m delighted to see you. Had you forgotten that I gave you the candlesticks as well? They’re silver like the rest, and worth a good 200 francs. Did you forget to take them?” Jean Valjean’s eyes had widened. He was now staring at the old man with an expression no words can convey. Valjean was no thief, the bishop assured the gendarmes. “This silver was my gift to him.

His arms wrapped around her, and he rolled easily to his back, taking her with him. Surprised and flummoxed, Merritt floundered a little as he gently pushed her up and arranged her legs to straddle him. "What are you doing?" "Putting you to work," he said, "since you're so set on wringing me dry." She looked at the brawny male beneath her and shook her head slightly. A brief laugh escaped him as he saw her confusion. "You're a horsewoman, aye?" he asked, and nudged upward with his hips. "Ride." Genuinely shocked at finding herself in the dominant position, Merritt braced her hands on his chest for balance. Her first tentative movement was rewarded by an encouraging lift of his hips. It sent him even deeper than before, the angle seeming to open something inside her, and she quivered in sensitive reaction. Hot and excited and mortified, she understood what he wanted. As she began to move, she gradually lost her self-consciousness and found a rhythm, her sex rubbing and pumping against his. Every downstroke sent pleasure through her, every sensation connected to the thick length of him. Panting heavily, Keir reached up to cup her breasts, his thumbs stroking the stiff peaks. "Merry, love... I'm going to come soon." "Yes," she gasped, a tide of heat approaching fast. "You'll... you'll have to pull away, if you dinna want me to release inside you." "I want it," she managed to say. "Stay in me. I want to feel you come... Keir..." He began to pump fast and hard, his hands grasping her hips to keep her in place. His eyes half closed, the passion-drowsed intensity of his gaze pushing her over the edge. The release went on and on, new swells and crests washing over her, having her moaning and shivering in their wake. She felt his hands grip her thighs as he bucked beneath her once, twice, and held fast. When he subsided, trembling like a racehorse held in check, she lay on top of him with their bodies still fused. Feeling euphoric, she nuzzled the dark golden fleece of his chest.

On this account I feel always, on a Saturday night, as though I also were released from some yoke of labour, had some wages to receive, and some luxury of repose to enjoy. For the sake, therefore, of witnessing, upon as large a scale as possible, a spectacle with which my sympathy was so entire, I used after, on Saturday nights, after I had taken opium, to wander forth, without much regarding the direction or the sistance, to all the markets, and other parts of London, to which the poor resort on a Saturday night, for laying out their wages. Many a family party, consisting of a man, his wife, and sometimes one or two of his children, have I listened to, as they stood consulting on their ways and means, or the strength of their exchequer, or the price of household articles. Gradually I became familiar with their wishes, their difficulties, and their opinions. Sometimes there might be heard murmers of discontent: but far oftener expressions on the countenance, or uttered in words, of patience, hope, and tranquillity. And taken generally, I must say, that, in this point at least, the poor are far more philosophic than the rich - that they show a more ready and cheerful submission to what they consider as irremediable evils, or irreparable losses. Whenever I saw occasion, or could do it without appearing to be intrusive, I joined their parties; and gave my opinion upon the matter in discussion, which, if not always judicious, was always received indulgently. If wages were a little higher, or expected to be so, or the quartern loaf a little lower, or it was reported that onions and butter were expected to fall, I was glad: yet, if the contrary were true, I drew from opium some means of consoling myself. For opium (like the bee, that extracts its materials indiscriminately from roses and from the soot of chimneys) can overrule all feelings into a compliance with the master key. Some of these rambles lead me to great distances: for an opium-eater is too happy to observe the motion of time.

His mouth brushed over hers with kisses of soft fire. And as he possessed her, she gradually came to understand the pattern he was working within her… eight shallow thrusts, two deep… seven shallow, three deep… progressing until he finally gave her ten heavy, penetrating plunges. Lottie cried out with wrenching pleasure, her hips lifting against his sleek weight as she was filled with volatile sensation. When the burning delight had begun to fade, Nick altered their positions subtly, moving farther over her, nudging her knees wider, adjusting the angle of his sex. He thrust deeply, sealing their bodies together, and circled his hips in a slow, steady rhythm. “I can’t,” Lottie said breathlessly, realizing what he wanted, knowing that it was impossible. “Let me,” Nick whispered, tireless and wickedly adept as he continued the gentle circling, using his body to pleasure her. She was astonished by how quickly the heat rose again, her senses welcoming the patient stimulation, her sex turning slick and swollen as he moved inside her, over her, against her. “Oh… oh…” The sounds were torn from her throat as she reached another crest, her limbs jerking, her cheek pressed hard against his shoulder. And then he began the entire cycle again. Nine shallow, one deep… Lottie lost count of how many times he brought her to ecstasy, or how much time passed while he made love to her. He whispered in her ear… endearments… intimate praise… telling her how hard she made him… how sweet she felt around him… how much he wanted to satisfy her. He gave her more pleasure than it seemed possible to bear, until finally she begged him to stop, her body trembling with exhaustion. Nick complied with reluctance, pushing deep inside one last time, releasing his pent-up desire with a shuddering groan. Compulsively he kissed her again, as he withdrew from her sated body. Lottie barely had the strength to lift her hand, but she caught at his arm and murmured thickly, “Will you stay?” “Yes,” she heard him say. “Yes.” -Lottie & Nick

Wake up every day, expecting not to know what's going to happen, and look for the events to unfold with curiosity. Instead of stressing and managing, just be present at anything that pops up with the intention of approaching it with your best efforts. Whatever happens in the process of spiritual awakening is going to be unpredictable and moving forward, if you're just the one who notices it, not fighting or making a big project out there. •       You may have emotional swings, energetic swings, psychic openings, and other unwanted shifts that, as you knew, feel unfamiliar to your personality. Be the beholder. Don't feel like you have something to fix or alter. They're going to pass. •       If you have severe trauma in your history and have never had therapy, it might be very useful to release the pains of memories that arise around the events. Therapy teaches you how to express, bear witness, release, and move forward. Your therapist needn't know much about kundalini as long as he or she doesn't discount that part of your process. What you want to focus on is the release of trauma-related issues, and you want an experienced and compassionate therapist who sees your spiritual orientation as a motivation and support for the healing process. •       This process represents your chance to wake up to your true nature. Some people wake up first, and then experience the emergence of a kundalini; others have the kundalini process going through as a preparation for the emergence. The appearance happens to do the job of wiping out, so is part of either pattern. Waking up means realizing that whoever looks through your eyes, lives through your senses, listens to your thoughts, and is present at every moment of your experience, whether good or bad, is recognized or remembered. This is a bright, conscious, detached and unconditionally loving presence that is universal and eternal and is totally free from all the conditions and memories you associate with as a personal identity. But as long as you believe in all of your personal conditions and stories, emotions, and thoughts, you have to experience life filtered by them. This programmed mind is what makes the game of life to be varied and suspense-filled but it also causes suffering and fear of death. When we are in Samadhi and Satori encounters, we glimpse the Truth about the vast, limitless space that is the foundation for our being. It is called gnosis (knowledge) or the One by the early Gnostics. Some spiritual teachings like Advaita Vedanta and Zen go straight for realization, while others see it as a gradual path through years of spiritual practices. Anyway, the ending is the same. As Shakespeare said, when you know who you are, the world becomes a stage and you the player, and life is more light and thoughts less intrusive, and the kundalini process settles down into a mellow pleasantness. •       Give up places to go and to be with people that cause you discomfort.

The Raisin meditation2 Set aside five to ten minutes when you can be alone, in a place, and at a time, when you will not be disturbed by the phone, family or friends. Switch off your cell phone, so it doesn’t play on your mind. You will need a few raisins (or other dried fruit or small nuts). You’ll also need a piece of paper and a pen to record your reactions afterward. Your task will be to eat the fruit or nuts in a mindful way, much as you ate the chocolate earlier (see p. 55). Read the instructions below to get an idea of what’s required, and only reread them if you really need to. The spirit in which you do the meditation is more important than covering every instruction in minute detail. You should spend about twenty to thirty seconds on each of the following eight stages: 1. Holding Take one of the raisins (or your choice of dried fruit or nuts) and hold it in the palm of your hand, or between your fingers and thumb. Focusing on it, approach it as if you have never seen anything like it before. Can you feel the weight of it in your hand? Is it casting a shadow on your palm? 2. Seeing Take the time really to see the raisin. Imagine you have never seen one before. Look at it with great care and full attention. Let your eyes explore every part of it. Examine the highlights where the light shines; the darker hollows, the folds and ridges. 3. Touching Turn the raisin over between your fingers, exploring its texture. How does it feel between the forefinger and thumb of the other hand? 4. Smelling Now, holding it beneath your nose, see what you notice with each in-breath. Does it have a scent? Let it fill your awareness. And if there is no scent, or very little, notice this as well. 5. Placing Slowly take the object to your mouth and notice how your hand and arm know exactly where to put it. And then gently place it in your mouth, noticing what the tongue does to “receive” it. Without chewing, simply explore the sensations of having it on your tongue. Gradually begin to explore the object with your tongue, continuing for thirty seconds or more if you choose. 6. Chewing When you’re ready, consciously take a bite into the raisin and notice the effects on the object, and in your mouth. Notice any tastes that it releases. Feel the texture as your teeth bite into it. Continue slowly chewing it, but do not swallow it just yet. Notice what is happening in the mouth. 7. Swallowing See if you can detect the first intention to swallow as it arises in your mind, experiencing it with full awareness before you actually swallow. Notice what the tongue does to prepare it for swallowing. See if you can follow the sensations of swallowing the raisin. If you can, consciously sense it as it moves down into your stomach. And if you don’t swallow it all at one time, consciously notice a second or even a third swallow, until it has all gone. Notice what the tongue does after you have swallowed. 8. Aftereffects Finally, spend a few moments registering the aftermath of this eating. Is there an aftertaste? What does the absence of the raisin feel like? Is there an automatic tendency to look for another? Now take a moment to write down anything that you noticed when you were doing the practice. Here’s what some people who’ve attended our courses said: “The smell for me was amazing; I’d never noticed that before.” “I felt pretty stupid, like I was in art school or something.” “I thought how ugly they looked … small and wrinkled, but the taste was very different from what I would normally have thought it tasted like. It was quite nice actually.” “I tasted this one raisin more than the twenty or so I usually stuff into my mouth without thinking.

For unknown ages after the explosive outpouring of matter and energy of the Big Bang, the Cosmos was without form. There were no galaxies, no planets, no life. Deep, impenetrable darkness was everywhere, hydrogen atoms in the void. Here and there, denser accumulations of gas were imperceptibly growing, globes of matter were condensing-hydrogen raindrops more massive than suns. Within these globes of gas was kindled the nuclear fire latent in matter. A first generation of stars was born, flooding the Cosmos with light. There were in those times, not yet any planets to receive the light, no living creatures to admire the radiance of the heavens. Deep in the stellar furnaces, the alchemy of nuclear fusion created heavy elements from the ashes of hydrogen burning, the atomic building blocks of future planets and lifeforms. Massive stars soon exhausted their stores of nuclear fuel. Rocked by colossal explosions, they returned most of their substance back into the thin gas from which they had once condensed. Here in the dark lush clouds between the stars, new raindrops made of many elements were forming, later generation of stars being born. Nearby, smaller raindrops grew, bodies far too little to ignite the nuclear fire, droplets in the interstellar mist on their way to form planets. Among them was a small world of stone and iron, the early Earth. Congealing and warming, the Earth released methane, ammonia, water and hydrogen gases that had been trapped within, forming the primitive atmosphere and the first oceans. Starlight from the Sun bathed and warmed the primeval Earth, drove storms, generated lightning and thunder. Volcanoes overflowed with lava. These processes disrupted molecules of the primitive atmosphere; the fragments fell back together into more and more complex forms, which dissolved into the early oceans. After a while the seas achieved the consistency of a warm, dilute soup. Molecules were organized, and complex chemical reactions driven, on the surface of clay. And one day a molecule arose that quite by accident was able to make crude copies of itself out of the other molecules in the broth. As time passed, more elaborate and more accurate self replicating molecules arose. Those combinations best suited to further replication were favored by the sieve of natural selection. Those that copied better produced more copies. And the primitive oceanic broth gradually grew thin as it was consumed by and transformed into complex condensations of self replicating organic molecules. Gradually, imperceptibly, life had begun. Single-celled plants evolved, and life began generating its own food. Photosynthesis transformed the atmosphere. Sex was invented. Once free living forms bonded together to make a complex cell with specialized functions. Chemical receptors evolved, and the Cosmos could taste and smell. One celled organisms evolved into multicellular colonies, elaborating their various parts into specialized organ systems. Eyes and ears evolved, and now the Cosmos could see and hear. Plants and animals discovered that land could support life. Organisms buzzed, crawled, scuttled, lumbered, glided, flapped, shimmied, climbed and soared. Colossal beasts thundered through steaming jungles. Small creatures emerged, born live instead of in hard-shelled containers, with a fluid like the early ocean coursing through their veins. They survived by swiftness and cunning. And then, only a moment ago, some small arboreal animals scampered down from the trees. They became upright and taught themselves the use of tools, domesticated other animals, plants and fire, and devised language. The ash of stellar alchemy was now emerging into consciousness. At an ever-accelerating pace, it invented writing, cities, art and science, and sent spaceships to the planets and the stars. These are some of the things that hydrogen atoms do, given fifteen billion years of cosmic evolution.

Emboldened, she skimmed her fingers across his buttocks, feeling the muscles clench in response, then onward to the top of his thigh, finding it just a bit rough with hair. Then, before she had time to talk to herself out of the impulse, she reached for his shaft and encircled him with her fingers. A harsh groan issued from his throat. She stiffened and began to withdraw, but he stopped her with a hand, forcing her fingers to stay where they were. "Stroke me," he said. "Please." Trembling, she hesitated just a moment more, then did as he wished. The feel of him was astonishing, hard and thick, yet covered with a skin as sleek and smooth as velvet. She glided up his length, then down, pausing at the last to brush a curious thumb across the tip. His shaft jumped in her palm, Jack releasing another throaty moan. "Harder," he said. "Stroke me harder." And she did, caressing him with increasing confidence while he massaged her breasts and took her mouth in a savage kiss. As she opened her lips wide, he slid his tongue inside, licking and lapping, then thrusting in and out in time to the movements of her hand. He kissed her until she was dizzy, her grip gradually weakening on him as he drowned her in a tide of pleasure.

the only thing you need to do is gently and gradually, piece by piece, release your resistant thoughts, which are the only disallowing factors involved. Your increasing relief will be the indicator that you are releasing resistance, just as your feelings of increased tension, anger, frustration,

Gradually my experience has forced me to conclude that the individual has within himself the capacity and the tendency, latent if not evident, to move forward toward maturity. In a suitable psychological climate this tendency is released, and becomes actual rather than potential. It is evident in the capacity of the individual to understand those aspects of his life and of himself which are causing him pain and dissatisfaction, an understanding which probes beneath his conscious knowledge of himself into those experiences which he has hidden from himself because of their threatening nature. It shows itself in the tendency to reorganize his personality and his relationship to life in ways which are regarded as more mature.

zone. Gradually it severs the leaf from access to water, and the leaf dries and browns and in most cases falls off, either under its own weight or encouraged by wintery rains and winds. Within a few hours, the tree will have released substances to heal the scar the leaf has left, protecting itself from the evaporation of water, infection, or the invasion of parasites. Even as the leaves are falling, the buds of next year’s crop are already in place, waiting to erupt again in spring. Most trees produce their buds in high summer, and the autumn leaf fall reveals them, neat and expectant, protected from the cold by thick scales. We rarely notice them because we think

with younger kittens. Encourage him to chase the feather, and to get up and move around. This quickly teaches him that the halter doesn’t interfere with his movements. After five minutes, take it off. As with the crate training, short five-minute sessions repeated several times a day over the first three days work wonders. You can then gradually increase the amount of time that he wears the halter. Be sure to give him a scrumptious treat each time you take off the halter, so he recognizes there is a lovely end in sight when he puts up with the bother. Once your kitten wears the halter without protest, clip on the leash, pick up the end, and simply follow him around. Don’t try to influence his movements at first. Unlike leash-trained dogs that are supposed to “heel” and follow the owner, leash-trained cats direct the action. After several days of short sessions where you follow him around, try offering gentle guidance of his movements. One or two pull-release tugs are enough. Don’t drag him—that just invites him to

Hostility is primarily allayed by a decrease in helplessness. The stronger a person becomes, the less he feels threatened by others. The accrual of strength stems from various sources. His center of gravity, which had been shifted to others, comes to rest within himself; he feels more active and starts to establish his own set of values. He will gradually have more energy available: the energy that had gone into repressing part of himself is released; he becomes less inhibited, less paralyzed by fears, self-contempt, and hopelessness. Instead of either blindly complying or fighting or venting sadistic impulses, he can give in on a rational basis and so becomes firmer.

EACH FOLLOWING DAY (or every two to three days): Increase the time by thirty to sixty seconds, up to ten minutes, without increasing the speed. ♦ When you get to ten minutes, drop the time down to three to four minutes and increase the speed one setting. Increase the time at this new speed following the same guidelines as above. ♦ As you gradually increase the speed, one setting at a time, follow this same pattern of increasing the amount of time day by day. Continue to drop the time back down when you increase the speed setting. Troubleshooting ♦ If you feel worse in the twenty-four hours after your vibration session, try less time and/or frequency the next time. You can even rest a day and only vibrate two to three times per week. Another good way to slow down is to just sit next to the machine and put only your feet on the vibrating plate. ♦ It is common to experience itching in some areas of the body, such as ears, nose, or feet, while vibrating. This may be due to increased circulation in that area, a release of toxins, or possibly some energy phenomenon. While this itching can be irritating, as long as it stops shortly after vibrating, it is harmless—a minor inconvenience in the process of healing. ♦ It is also highly recommended to incorporate a healthy diet and natural supplements to help lower inflammation levels in your body. See the detoxification section in chapter 7 and the troubleshooting section in chapter 2.

Themes of consciousness are thus inherited, trained, conditioned, exercised, and reinforced until they gradually become subconscious and generate our sense of who we think we are. Things like skepticism, frustration, anxiety, or jealousy can become so hardwired into the brain that they become quite literally a neurological reflex. The brain can then become addicted to the chemicals released, called neurotransmitters, each time a neurological reflex is activated. The brain will even look for and find a reason or excuse to “go there” so that it can receive a chemical hit of the thought or emotion that it is so addicted to. The good news is, with each moment spent in states of gratitude, love, ease, and trust, the neuron connections for them get stronger as well, and the old pathways begin weakening.

Oysters release their eggs from around August to September. So during this time, they are small and don't taste good. They gradually start to put on weight again after that. And when the snow on the mountains melt and the water flows into the sea from the river, the oysters taste even better. Snow melt is rich in nutrients, and the plankton grows on that. The oysters eat the plankton and grow larger.

CIRCUIT BREAKER MEDITATION First, settle into your body and your breath, as described in the Basic Mindfulness Meditation in Chapter 3. Invite yourself to move slowly through the meditation exercise, taking your time with each step. Bring your awareness to your jaw and your mouth. Allow your tongue to relax inside your mouth and let your jaw open slightly. Feel your breath passing easily through your relaxed throat. When you feel ready, gently place your hand on your heart, in the center of your chest. Place your other hand on your lower belly, below your navel. Imagine your hands getting warmer, the tiny capillaries and arteries relaxing just a bit to allow warmth to flow into them. Breathe gently and deeply, imagining the breath going into your heart and your belly. With each breath, invite yourself to also breathe into your heart and your belly any sense of goodness, safety, trust, acceptance, or ease that you’re able to bring to mind. Once that’s steady, call to mind a moment of being with someone who loves you unconditionally, someone you feel completely safe with. This may not always be a partner or a parent or a child. Those relationships can be so complex and the feelings can be mixed. It may be, for example, a good friend or a trusted teacher. It may be your therapist, your grandmother, a third-grade teacher, or a beloved pet. Pets are great. As you remember feeling safe and loved with this person or pet, see if you can feel the feelings and sensations that come up with that memory in your body. Allow yourself to really savor these feelings of warmth, safety, trust, and love in your body. When that feeling is steady, gently release the image for now and simply bathe in the feeling for 30 seconds or so. As always, when you’re done with your formal practice, gently and gradually bring yourself back into the room and into the stream of

A 2005 study by Dr. Barnard and other researchers, which measured the effects of a low-fat vegan diet on body weight, found that people lost significant amounts of weight with no calorie counting. On average, the low-fat vegan diet adopters lost 13 pounds in 14 weeks. This phenomenon can be partly explained by the thermic effects of eating plant-based foods. Vegan diets are higher in complex carbohydrates which cause the body to release some calories as body heat during digestion (the thermic effect) rather than store it as fat. In fact a vegan diet includes a rich variety of foods that have a thermic effect (see list below). We sometimes get a thermic effect with animal protein, but we are also stuck with all the animal fat that comes with it. A whole foods, plant-based diet causes you to burn calories 16 percent faster after meals for about three hours. This revving up of your metabolism causes gradual and healthy weight loss. The thermic effect alone does not cause the weight loss. What it does is help decrease the number of calories that are automatically converted into fat—stopping some fat before it starts. It’s a natural process that is aided significantly by choosing a plant-based diet and hampered by a diet high in animal fats.

Ice Age 2,588 million years ago, at the start of the Pleistocene, the Earth entered an Ice Age. It followed 50 million years of climatic downturn, and was the first full-blown ice age for a quarter of a billion years. Cooler, arid conditions alternated with warm, wet conditions as ice sheets ebbed and flowed in higher latitudes. The ice sheets alternately locked up vast amounts of fresh water, then released it again as temperatures rose. This alternation between a cooler and a warmer climate has continued right up to the present day. The cold spells are often referred to as ‘ice ages’. In particular the end of the most recent glacial period 11,600 years ago, is popularly known as the end of the last Ice Age. In fact the warm spells – interglacial periods – are no more than breaks in an on-going ice age. The current Holocene epoch, that followed the last glacial period, is such a break. In theory, glacial conditions will one day return, though the effects of anthropogenic (human caused) global warming make this uncertain. Glacial periods are not necessarily periods of unremitting cold, but alternate between colder and warmer intervals known respectively as stadials and interstadials. The idea that there were periods when glaciers extended beyond their present-day limits gradually emerged during the first half of the nineteenth century. Geologists sought to explain such phenomena as rock scouring and scratching, the cutting of valleys, the existence of whale-shaped hills known as drumlins and the presence of erratic boulders and ridges of rocky debris known as moraines. The term Eiszeit (‘ice age’) was coined in 1837 by the German botanist Karl Friedrich Schimper.

I lacked his desperate courage. I had developed an ordinary prisoner’s mentality, constantly pursuing small creature comforts and counting the days until my release. Obsessed with avoiding hunger and fatigue, all I aspired to was an extra morsel of food, a light day’s work, or warm clothing, any one of which was enough to make me ecstatic. Gradually I had stopped caring how degraded my existence was.

THIS IS A TIME in your life when you must learn to let go: of loved ones, of possessions, of control. In order to let go of something that is precious to you, you need to rest in My Presence, where you are complete. Take time to bask in the Light of My Love. As you relax more and more, your grasping hand gradually opens up, releasing your prized possession into My care. You can feel secure, even in the midst of cataclysmic changes, through awareness of My continual Presence. The One who never leaves you is the same One who never changes: I am the same yesterday, today, and forever. As you release more and more things into My care, remember that I never let go of your hand. Herein lies your security, which no one and no circumstance can take from you. PSALM 89:15; HEBREWS 13:8; ISAIAH 41:13

of the shaman as well as the individual. Certain disciplined individuals discovered that the more they practiced tuning into the Divine Will, the more conscious they became of their true wills, and the more individual power they attained. It was as if their small weak monkey minds were gradually melting away. Their true will, their super-humanness, was being released. Some of these hard-working individuals used their new "powers" to manipulate energy. Some of these early energy technicians or artists called themselves Magicians. Others called themselves the Sons of God, or Prophets, the Blessed Ones. Their art consisted of using the force

Pearson and Gallagher are the researchers who developed the gradual release of responsibility model of instruction (1983). The model gives us several opportunities for collecting assessment data during instruction.

Here our sexy masseuses are highly skilled when it comes to performing nuru massage. They will slide all over your body in a rhythmic, gradual manner while her soft hands play with you to allow you to release the moment you’re close to the point of best moment. Our expert highly qualified masseuses will ease out the tension in your body.

Dear Me, Talk about getting the wind knocked out of your sails when your best friend tells you you’re turning into a grumpy hermit. She told me that at breakfast today, and I was in denial until I talked to Chase, that little fucker. I made myself happy by soaking his ass five times before lunch. I did some soul searching, and I don’t think I’m depressed, but I do think I’m becoming too comfortable with being by myself. I’m really beginning to enjoy the company of cats more than people, and that’s probably not a good thing. Sprout and Ginger are so cute right now. Ginger’s cleaning Sprout’s head, and he’s smiling. Sometimes he’ll…yeah, I really need to get out more. I think life would be simpler if people acted more like cats. Like if someone is prattling on about something I don’t care about and I pop them in the forehead, they’d understand to walk away just like a cat does. A simple hiss conveys so much. I will attempt to gradually release myself back into a social environment. Me

In this modern age, people find it difficult to believe that human beings are able to fly, but such things were very common in ancient times when people had strong potentialities for spiritual attainments. Milarepa, who was a great practitioner of Heruka and Vajrayogini, at one time – as explained in his life story – told a large assembly of his disciples how he had gained the ability to fly. Through various methods, including his tummo meditation, he had released the central channel knots at his heart, navel and below the navel, and because of this he developed a very special physical suppleness that pervaded his body. This made his body extremely light, like a soft feather. At first he could only levitate but gradually he was able to move through space until finally he was able to fly like an eagle.

This table only counts physical health effects due to disruptions that took place in the Illusion of Control phase. It considers both short-run and long-run effects. Each of the claimed effects is based on a published study about that effect. First on the list is the disruption to vaccination programs for measles, diphtheria, cholera, and polio, which were either cancelled or reduced in scope in some 70 countries. That disruption was caused by travel restrictions. Western experts could not travel, and within many poor countries travel and general activity were also halted in the early days of the Illusion of Control phase. This depressive effect on vaccination programs for the poor is expected to lead to large loss of life in the coming years. The poor countries paying this cost are most countries in Africa, the poorer nations in Asia, such as India, Indonesia and Myanmar, and the poorer countries in Latin America. The second listed effect in the table relates to schooling. An estimated 90% of the world’s children have had their schooling disrupted, often for months, which reduces their lifetime opportunities and social development through numerous direct and indirect pathways. The UN children’s organisation, UNICEF, has released several reports on just how bad the consequences of this will be in the coming decades.116 The third element in Joffe’s table refers to reports of economic and social primitivisation in poor countries. Primitivisation, also seen after the collapse of the Soviet Union in the early 1990s, is just what it sounds like: a regression away from specialisation, trade and economic advancement through markets to more isolated and ‘primitive’ choices, including attempted economic self-sufficiency and higher fertility. Due to diminished labour market prospects, curtailed educational activities and decreased access to reproductive health services, populations in the Illusion of Control phase began reverting to having more children precisely in those countries where there is already huge pressure on resources. The fourth and fifth elements listed in the table reflect the biggest disaster of this period, namely the increase in extreme poverty and expected famines in poor countries. Over the 20 years leading up to 2020, gradual improvements in economic conditions around the world had significantly eased poverty and famines. Now, international organisations are signalling rapid deterioration in both. The Food and Agriculture Organisation (FAO) now expects the world to have approximately an additional 100 million extremely poor people facing starvation as a result of Covid policies. That will translate into civil wars, waves of refugees and huge loss of life. The last two items in Joffe’s table relate to the effect of lower perinatal and infant care and impoverishment. Millions of preventable deaths are now expected due to infections and weakness in new mothers and young infants, and neglect of other health problems like malaria and tuberculosis that affect people in all walks of life. The whole of the poor world has suffered fewer than one million deaths from Covid. The price to be paid in human losses in these countries through hunger and health neglect caused by lockdowns and other restrictions is much, much larger. All in the name of stopping Covid.

There was more talk of elephants and their ways over dinner that night. Boago explained how an elephant orphan project would try to create a new herd and then gradually release its members back into the wild. That was what they were doing there, he said. It had been done before, he told them, in other schemes. And when the elephants were released they came back – frequently at first, but then less often as they created their own lives. ‘But there’s an amazing thing,’ he continued. ‘They will bring their children back to introduce them to their old keepers. They bring them back to the camp shortly after they are born. Elephants are very proud of their children.

Consider this analogy. When it rains heavily, the water does not necessarily penetrate the earth. If the surface is dry and hard, the rain water floods the surface and runs off. But if it rains gradually for many days continuously, and the ground is moist, then the water seeps deep into the earth, which is good for cultivation and for life. Similarly in ourselves, we must moisten our muscles and nerves through the expansion and extension of the various asana. In this way, the stress that saturates the brain is diffused throughout the rest of the body, so the brain is rested and released from strain and the body releases its stress and strain through movement. Similarly, while doing the various types of pranayama the whole body is irrigated with energy. The nerves are soothed, the brain is calmed, the hardness and rigidity of the lungs are loosened. The nerves are made to remain healthy. There is a certain vibration, which you can make rhythmic and subtler in your asana and pranayama practice without force or stress. You are one with yourself and that is in and of itself a meditative state.

The specific policy changes in the 1980s were profound in the aggregate, but beyond the nostalgic Reaganite Morning in America and freer-free-markets messaging, most of the changes were complicated and esoteric and seemed small, so they had a stealth quality. It didn’t feel quite like a paradigm shift because it was mainly carried out by means of a thousand wonky adjustments to government rules and laws, and obscure financial inventions, and big companies one by one changing how they operated and getting away with it—all of it with impacts that emerged gradually, over decades. Social Security and Medicare benefits were not cut, the EPA wasn’t abolished, labor unions weren’t banned. As it turned out, the 1980s were the ’30s but in reverse: instead of a fast-acting New Deal, a time-release Raw Deal.

parenting is investing everything you have into another human being, and then gradually releasing your grip on them. You need to let them make their own mistakes right there in front of you while you’re still around to pick up the pieces afterwards, and trust them to find their way eventually.

In a medium bowl, whisk together the cocoa, sugar, salt, flour, and baking soda, then sift into a large bowl. In a medium bowl, stir the vanilla and oil together. Bring the water to a boil or brew the coffee. Add it to the oil-vanilla mixture. Make a well in the center of the dry ingredients and gradually whisk in the water-oil mixture until incorporated. Gradually whisk in the eggs and stir until smooth. The batter will be thin. Divide the batter evenly between the prepared pans. Drop the pan onto the counter from a height of 3 inches a couple of times to release any air bubbles that may have formed. Bake in the upper third of the oven for 25 to 30 minutes, until the cakes spring back from the touch and just pull away from the edges of the pan. An inserted toothpick should come out clean. Cool the cakes completely on a wire rack before unmolding them from the pan and peeling off the parchment paper. To serve, place one layer down on a cake plate. Spread 1 cup Vanilla Cream in the center of the cake and gently place the second layer atop it. Spread

now, the only thing you need to do is gently and gradually, piece by piece, release your resistant thoughts, which are the only disallowing factors involved. Your increasing relief will be the indicator that you are releasing resistance, just as your feelings of increased tension, anger, frustration, and so on,

From the outside, looking at a woman objectively, there’s no obvious single transition point which marks the beginning of this odyssey. Menarche, the first occurrence of menstruation and a gateway to adulthood, is easily identifiable; pregnancy, a gateway to motherhood, is even more visible. But the features of menopause — that final, great biological upheaval in a woman’s life — aren’t nearly so obvious from the outside and are often deliberately concealed. To add to the complexity, the passage lasts for a much longer period of time. Usually, it starts during our “midlife” years. Perimenopause, sometimes called “menopause transition,” kicks off several years before menopause itself, and is defined as the time during which our ovaries gradually begin to make less estrogen. This usually happens in our forties, but in some instances it can begin in our thirties or, in rare cases, even earlier. During perimenopause, the ovaries are effectively winding down, and irregularities are common. Some months women continue to ovulate — sometimes even twice in the same cycle — while in other months no egg is released. Though four to six years is the average span, perimenopause can last for as little as a year or it can go on for more than ten. Menopause is usually declared after twelve months have passed without a period. In the US, the average age at which menopause is recorded is fifty-one years, though around one in a hundred women reach this point before the age of forty. Four years is the typical duration of menopause, but around one in ten women experiences physical and psychological challenges that last for up to twelve years — challenges which include depression, anxiety, insomnia, hot flashes, night sweats, and reduced libido. Sometimes, these challenges are significant; at their most severe they can present as risks to physical or mental health, and women need help to manage them.

Gradually, as our perspective deepens, we begin to experience our own lives in the context of a wider purpose. We begin to look at all our melodramas and our desires and our sufferings, and instead of seeing them as events happening within a lifetime bounded by birth and death, we begin experiencing them as part of a much vaster design.We begin to appreciate that there is a wider frame around our lives, within which our particular incarnation is happening. One of the first things that kind of perspective does for us is to calm us down a great deal. The whole game isn’t riding on this one lifetime! Whew! There’s a great feeling of release inherent in that; it removes the anxiety and the sense of urgency. We don’t have to do it all right now—and in fact we see we’re not “doing it” anyway! It’s the lawful continuity of karma and reincarnation flowing through us lifetime after lifetime, kalpa after kalpa. What a relief!

BREATH 1​While seated or lying down, take 30 to 40 full conscious breaths: Breathe fully in to the belly and the chest, then letting go, without force. 2​On your final exhale, let the air out and hold it out for as long as you can without discomfort. Listen to your body and don’t force it! 3​When you feel the urge to breathe again, take a deep breath in, hold for 10 to 15 seconds. Then release and relax. 4​Repeat the steps above two or three more times, paying attention to how you feel and adjusting your breath as needed. 5​Rest in this elevated state until you are ready to move on with your day. Alternatively, use the energy you just generated for your morning workout or yoga practice. Experiment with what feels right for you. Congratulations! You just influenced key drivers of your health, increased your vitality and focus, busted your stress, reduced inflammation factors, and optimized your immune system. FOR COMPLETE WHM BREATHING INSTRUCTIONS AND SAFETY GUIDELINES, SEE CHAPTER 4. MIND Your post-breathing practice state is the perfect time to program your mindset. Try this: 1​Before you get up from your breathing practice, bring up a thought in your mind like “Today I’m going to stay in the cold shower for 15 more seconds than yesterday,” or “I feel happy, healthy, and strong.” 2​Reflect on this thought and notice how your body feels. 3​If you identify any inner resistance to your intention, just keep breathing steadily until you feel an alignment between your body and mind. With practice, your sense of your inner experience, or interoception, will sharpen, allowing you to more consciously observe and control your body and mind. SEE CHAPTER 12 FOR DETAILS. COLD 1​At the end of your warm shower, turn the water to cold. 2​If you like you can start by first putting your feet and legs, than your arms, then your full torso under the water. 3​Do NOT do the WHM Basic Breathing Exercise while standing in the shower. 4​Gradually extend your exposure every day until you can handle two minutes in the cold. 5​If you are shivering when you get out, try the horse stance exercise. (See “How Long Can You Hold a Horse Stance?” for details.) Success! You just improved your metabolic efficiency, regulated your hormones, further reduced inflammation, and are enjoying the endorphins and endocannabinoids released in response to the cold.

What began as a form of self-defense (I will reassert myself as the owner of my ideas, my identity, my name!) became, gradually, a form of self-release. By creating a crisis in my personal brand (the one I always denied I had), and by introducing a hefty dose of ridiculousness into the seriousness with which I once took my public persona, and by showing me how terribly grim it is to spend your life chasing clout, Other Naomi has left me with no choice but to loosen the grip on that performed and partitioned version of me.

Nothing has affected, and warped, modern thinking about the pace of invention and the extent of innovation than the rapid exponential advances of solid-state electronics, resulting first in the introduction of transistors (in the late 1940s), then integrated circuits (starting in the early 1960s) and microprocessors (a decade later), followed by similarly rapid increases in their mass-scale deployment in industrial production, transportation, services, homes, and communications. The growing conviction that we have left the age of gradual growth behind began with our ability to crowd ever more components onto a silicon wafer, a process whose regularity was captured by Gordon Moore with his formulation of the now eponymous law that initially ordained a doubling every eighteen months, later adjusted to about two years. As a result, in 2020 we had microchips with seven orders of magnitude (>10,000,000) more components than the first microprocessor, the Intel 4004, released in 1971, did.

It has been well established that television, films, and magazines distort people’s standards and perception of beauty.748 The photoshopped and filtered photos online and in magazines create an unrealistic expectation of beauty that is unattainable by anyone.749 Pornography has even more devastating effects on viewers. Watching porn literally rewires the brain in what is called neuroplastic change, and gradually affects the release of dopamine. Psychiatrist Norman Doidge says, “Because plasticity is competitive, the brain maps for new, exciting images increased at the expense of what had previously attracted them.”750 What this means is that frequent porn watchers develop a “tolerance” similar to drug users, and then require harder (and weirder) porn in order for the same amount of dopamine to be released.751 Many regular porn watchers become unable to maintain erections during sex with an actual person, similar to how a drug addict is unable to get a good buzz from an average dose of whatever their drug of choice is.

here is an early version of principles established by a client adopting LeSS Huge in a product group: 1. The perfection goal is to have a releasable product all the time. Release stabilization periods need to be reduced and eventually eliminated. 2. Co-located, self-managing, cross-functional, Scrum teams are the basic organizational building block. Responsibility and accountability are on team level. 3. The majority of the teams are organized as customer-centric feature teams. 4. Product management steers the development through the Product Owner role. Release commitments are not forced on teams. 5. The line organization is cross-functional. The functional-specialized line organizations are gradually integrated in the cross-functional line organization. 6. Special coordination roles (such as project managers) are avoided and teams are responsible for coordination. 7. The main responsibility of management is improvement—improve team’s learning, efficiency, and quality. The content of the work always comes from the Product Owner. 8. There is no branching in development. And product variation is not to be reflected in the version control system. 9. All tests are automated with the exception of (1) exploratory test, (2) usability test, and (3) tests that require physical movement. All people must learn test automation skills. 10. Adoption is gradual and evolutionary. These principles are considered in every decision.

Amygdala Hijack Our perception of our world occurs via our five senses.19 Information from these senses enters our brain stem from the spinal cord and travels along neural pathways to the limbic system. When our senses perceive a threat, our sympathetic nervous system is stimulated, resulting in a fight or flight response, also known as a stress response. When this happens, we are no longer able to think rationally. Instead, we are in reaction mode. When a threat is perceived, emotional memories stored in the midbrain’s amygdala can be evoked. When the amygdala is stimulated by a perceived threat, it signals to the hypothalamus, and this results in the release of the stress hormones cortisol and adrenaline. These hormones are released into the bloodstream and transported to the brain, where they disconnect the frontal lobes and leave us at the mercy of our emotions and caught in amygdala hijack. This is a strong emotional state. The oxygen and glucose necessary for effective frontal brain high-order thinking are then diverted to the amygdala in the limbic system to process these emotions. While this takes place, the frontal brain is deprived of oxygen and glucose and unable to function effectively at a rational level. Emotional self-regulation20 activates the para-sympathetic nervous system, which is responsible for the release of hormones into the bloodstream to act as antidotes to the stress hormones. These antidotes gradually slow breathing and reduce the heart rate, enabling oxygen and glucose to return to the frontal brain, which permits rational thinking to take place again.

Trees help reduce storm water runoff by intercepting falling rain and holding a portion of it on the leaves and bark. A mature tree can hold 100 gallons of water on its many surfaces during a rainstorm. Part of this water soon evaporates and the rest is gradually released into the soil below.

They follow the road into secluded green valleys, before climbing back up into the chalk hills. She looks across at Jack and finds him smiling at her. "Eyes on the road," she warns, but she takes up his hand and places it on her warm thigh, gradually directing it under the edge of her skirt and petticoat. He glances across at her again, his smile broadening. Lillian shifts a little in her seat, parting her legs slightly, releasing a soft sigh as his fingertips graze her inner thigh.

Larry Elford worked inside Canadian investment dealers for two decades. He saw how high status persons and corporate entities were not subject to the same application of rules or laws as others. Higher status entities were able to “police themselves” or retain their own regulators to “police” their business activities. He learned how status plus this ability to “self regulate”, allowed the growth of corrupt practices, without having to worry that a policeman would come to the office door. Self-regulation also granted the privilege of being able to quietly purchase “exemption” from laws, to further enable corrupt practices without public knowledge or consequences. Not willing to be an accomplice to harming the public, he spoke out as instructed by codes of conduct and ethics. Those calls for ethics were not welcomed and he felt forced to leave the industry. He released a documentary film in 2009, titled “Breach of Trust, the Unique Violence of White Collar Crime”, after becoming aware of the suicide of an investment industry whistleblower. This person was bullied to his death by industry lawyers and those who used the courts as a mechanism to “hush” persons who spoke about abusive practices. He gradually learned more about unwritten “codes of silence”, which usually received priority over written codes of ethics. The truth teller is most often drummed out of the business, rather than being thanked for the honesty and protection of the firm’s reputation. The “Unique Violence” he learned about white collar crime is that there is little

There exists now a third option-one that I call “renegotiation.” In renegotiating trauma, we begin to mend the ruptured bank by circling around the peripheries of the healing and trauma vortices, gradually moving toward their centers. We begin by riding the warble (wobbly oscillation) created by these two opposing forces, experiencing the turbulence between them. We then move slowly and rhythmically, back and forth, from one to the other in a figure-eight pattern. By beginning with the healing vortex, we pick up the support and resources needed to successfully negotiate the trauma vortex. By moving between these vortices, we release the tightly bound energies at their core as if they were being unwound. We move toward their centers and their energies are released; the vortices break up, dissolve, and are integrated back into the mainstream. This is renegotiation (Fig. 4).

My suggestion is the necessity of a national policy to provide grid independent solar panel houses to these dwellings which can be extended to other 140 million houses gradually. Also the street lights can be provided on community based solar panels in villages, towns and cities. This will bring to India a vibrant solar panel industry right from innovative development, efficiency enhancement, production, distribution, marketing and maintenance of trouble free solar energy system as a business. This integrated business solution will bring down the cost of solar power generation and also distribution loss. The action of creating solar paneled houses and street lights will release nearly 50,000 to 60,000 MW of power for use by various sectors of the economy propelling national growth. It will also be useful for providing low cost electricity to other developing nations in the world.

The release for Luca is strong. He grabs me, pulls me toward him, embraces me so tightly that I’m half on his lap. He’s crying and laughing, his arms around me. I reach up, twine my hands around his neck, realize that I’m crying too, laughing too. We stare at each other. Luca’s palms cup my face, his thumbs stroking my jawline gently as he looks at me, and I can’t bear being so close to him and not kissing him. I pull his head down and kiss him, his face, his lips, his eyes, kissing away every single tear, which takes ages, because we’re both still crying. His eyelashes are damp on his cheeks, his mouth soft, his hair silky, his hands, sliding down my back, lifting me and settling me fully on his lap, warm now, making me shiver with excitement. And gradually, through the kissing, I realize that the laughter is stronger than the crying. We keep pausing just to look at each other and smile. Luca tilts his head toward me, rests his forehead on mine, whispers: “Violetta, Violetta…from the first moment I see you…” “Me too,” I whisper back. “Me too.” And then we kiss again, and neither of us says a word for a long, long time.

This begins with release from our compulsion to drink and, through our use of the Twelve Steps, gradually moves into growing freedom from fear, depression, anxiety, and the overwhelming self-concern that characterized life before AA.

First, they threw materials containing boron. These were to prevent spontaneous chain reactions, because boron is one of the most effective neutron absorbers. Putting some dozens of kilograms of boron into a working reactor is enough to stop its nuclear reaction forever. But during the first days after the accident, they threw about forty tons of boron-containing materials into the reactor's ruins, thousands of times more than should have been needed. In this way, they fought against nuclear hazard. Other materials were also thrown in. They were intended to fill the reactor's pit and form a filtering barrier to stop the spreading radioactivity. Among them were clay, sand, and dolomite. Two thousand six hundred tons during the first days. Last, various things that contained metallic plumbum—lead—were thrown: shot, billets, and other items. The lead was supposed to melt when it came into contact with the hot materials of the reactor. In this way, it would neutralize some of the heat-release. To prevent China Syndrome, about 2400 tons of lead materials were thrown into the reactor. According to the initial plan, the pit of the reactor was to be covered gradually with dry substances. That would diminish radioactive release, and at the same time reduce the heat. Experts considered that these combined actions would cause a decrease in the release, then an increase—a breaching—of hot gases, and then a final decrease. Many reasons prevented these experts from correctly estimating the quantity of released activity. Mistakes in measuring were immense. Nevertheless, these measurements showed first the decrease of radioactive release, and then the increase. And then … hurrah! The release was diminished by hundreds of times. It happened on the evening of May 6.

We have spoken already that on the sixth of May, ten days after the accident, the release of radioactivity out of the destroyed Unit, which threatened to cause serious disasters, decreased suddenly by hundreds of times. At the time, the reason for this decrease was considered to be the effect of all the materials that had been thrown from the helicopters. Now we know that those materials hadn’t played their proper role. The explanation is different now. At that time, the fuel, having melted the lower protective plate of the reactor, dissolved in other melted materials and formed radioactive lava, never seen in nature before. Lava spread in the lower stores of the block and started to cool. The radioactive release was practically stopped. China Syndrome—the burning of concrete plates and the gradual falling of the fuel— worked only for that lower plate and, to some extent, for the floor of the room situated right under the reactor.

services need to support rolling upgrades, where a new version of a service is gradually deployed to a few nodes at a time, rather than deploying to all nodes simultaneously. Rolling upgrades allow new versions of a service to be released

To prevent China Syndrome, about 2400 tons of lead materials were thrown into the reactor. According to the initial plan, the pit of the reactor was to be covered gradually with dry substances. That would diminish radioactive release, and at the same time reduce the heat. Experts considered that these combined actions would cause a decrease in the release, then an increase—a breaching—of hot gases, and then a final decrease. Many reasons prevented these experts from correctly estimating the quantity of released activity. Mistakes in measuring were immense. Nevertheless, these measurements showed first the decrease of radioactive release, and then the increase. And then … hurrah! The release was diminished by hundreds of times. It happened on the evening of May 6.

The Old Testament uses several different Hebrew terms to describe the various modes of impartation. First, according to Strong’s Concordance, there is nataf, which means “to let drop like rain.” This describes a slow, gentle process where the prophetic word comes upon us little by little and accumulates in our spirits over a period of time. It is like being in a certain place and having the mist of God descend around us and slowly permeate our spirits. Some have described it as being like a sponge that gradually soaks up and absorbs the “raindrops” of the prophetic presence of the Lord until they fill up and overflow. The second Hebrew word listed in Strong’s Concordance for prophetic impartation is massa, which refers to the “hand of the Lord” that releases the “burden of the Lord.” When God’s hand comes upon us, He imparts something to us—a prophetic “burden”—and when His hand lifts, that burden remains. The

While love marriages had certainly existed in prior centuries, now they became the popular ideal and perhaps even the norm.4 Many theories have been advanced to explain why such a definitive change occurred. Was it a natural evolution of the ideal of companionate marriage, as practiced previously by the enlightened bourgeoisie of Great Britain, Northern Europe, and America? Was it the general spirit of revolution that helped release children from their parents’ tutelage and allowed for more independent choices? Was it backlash to the Age of Reason that permitted the passionate torrents of Romanticism to flow among readers of love poetry and fiction? Was it the revival of Christianity by Anglo- American evangelicalism, which spread the belief that “heaven-sent” marriages should have the urgency of divine love? Was it the result of nascent industrialization, which removed many young women from the home and placed them in mills and factories, where they were no longer under the watchful eye of parents? Whatever the reasons, the gradual emancipation of young adults from their parents and the primacy accorded love matches solidified during the nineteenth century.