My Dreams Are Valid Quotes

Those static images have the uncanny ability to jar the memory and bring places and people back to life. They bridge the present with the past and validate as real what the passage of time has turned into hazy recollections. Were it not for them, my experiences would have remained as just imperfect memories of perfect moments.

Cristina Yang was the walking validation of my dreams.

Mother. Father. I am sorry. I have failed you both. I made a promise to protect our people, Mother. I thought if I could stop the Templars, If I could keep the revolution free from their influence, then those I supported would do what was right. They did, I suppose, do what was right - what was right for them. As for you, Father, I thought I might unite us, that we would forget the past and forge a better future. In time, I believed you could be made to see the world as I do - to understand. But it was just a dream. This, too, I should have known. Were we not meant to live in peace, then? Is that it? Are we born to argue? To fight? So many voices - each demanding something else. "It has been hard at times, but never harder than today. To see all I worked for perverted, discarded, forgotten. You would say I have described the whole of history, Father. Are you smiling, then? Hoping I might speak the words you long to hear? To validate you? To say that all along you were right? I will not. Even now, faced as I am with the truth of your cold words, I refuse. Because I believe things can still change. "I may never succeed. The Assassins may struggle another thousand years in vain. But we will not stop." "Compromise. That's what everyone has insisted on. And so I have learnt it. But differently than most, I think. I realize now that it will take time, that the road ahead is long and shrouded in darkness. It is a road which will not always take me where I wish to go - and I doubt I will live to see it end. But I will travel down it nonetheless." "For at my side walks hope. In the face of all that insists I turn back, I carry on: this, this is my compromise.

...Grimacing, I plunged a hand into the fouled water to clear the clog, morbid curiosity drawing my youthful eyes to the gray globs of gore floating upon the surface. It was not horror that seized my imagination so much as wonder: sixty years of dreams and desires, hunger and hope, love and longing, blasted away in a single explosive instant, mind and brain. The mind of Erasmus Gray was gone; the remnants of its vessel floated, as light and insubstantial as popcorn, in the water. Which fluffy bit held your ambition, Erasmus Gray? Which speck your pride? Ah, how absurd the primping and preening of our race! Is it not the ultimate arrogance to believe we are more than is contained in our biology? What counterarguments may be put forth, what valid objections raised, to the claim of Ecclesiastes, "Vanity of vanities; all is vanity"?

Comparison is the thief of joy, and this is my dream. Just because my dreams are smaller in nature doesn't make them any less important or valid.

Why did my mother, a grown woman, get to talk like all her hopes and dreams had been shat on, kicked, and set on fire, all the while pushing me, a mere girl, a child, to do better, to accomplish more, to face down all the odds and become a legend? When was I supposed to complain the way they did? To be validated the way they validated each other?

As I regard physics and psychology as complementary types of examination, I am certain that there is an equally valid way that must lead the psychologist 'from behind' (namely, through investigating the archetypes) into the world of physics. As an example of background physics, I shall discuss a motif that occurs regularly in my dreams - namely, fine structure, in particular doublet structure of spectral lines and the separation of a chemical element into two isotopes.

And, most importantly, I know who I am. I know my goals, dreams, values, and boundaries, and I know how to protect, nurture, and validate them. Those are the true rewards of sobriety, and they’re what I was looking for all along.

I state in my book Put Your Dream to the Test that the more valid reasons a person has to achieve their dream, the higher the odds are that they will. Valid reasons also increase the odds that a person will follow through with personal growth.

THE RIGHT AND WRONG PICTURE OF A DREAM I’ve studied successful people for almost forty years. I’ve known hundreds of high-profile people who achieved big dreams. And I’ve achieved a few dreams of my own. What I’ve discovered is that a lot of people have misconceptions about dreams. Take a look at many of the things that people pursue and call dreams in their lives: Daydreams—Distractions from Current Work Pie-in-the-Sky Dreams—Wild Ideas with No Strategy or Basis in Reality Bad Dreams—Worries that Breed Fear and Paralysis Idealistic Dreams—The Way the World Would Be If You Were in Charge Vicarious Dreams—Dreams Lived Through Others Romantic Dreams—Belief that Some Person Will Make You Happy Career Dreams—Belief that Career Success Will Make You Happy Destination Dreams—Belief that a Position, Title, or Award Will Make You Happy Material Dreams—Belief that Wealth or Possessions Will Make You Happy If these aren’t good dreams—valid ones worthy of a person’s life—then what are? Here is my definition of a dream that can be put to the test and pass: a dream is an inspiring picture of the future that energizes your mind, will, and emotions, empowering you to do everything you can to achieve it.

This may be a bit controversial, but I’m not so sure compensation scales are a “moral” issue, at least once you exceed the very bottom of the range. If I create a business model that works only if I pay animators half the going rate in Hollywood, and we find it impossible to hire competent animators at that rate, I know my business model is invalid. It won’t work. On the other hand, if enough animators turn up willing to work for that pay scale, the business model may be valid. Turnover will undoubtedly be on the high side, as many of the better animators will move on to higher-paying work, but if we can build turnover into our business model, the business still works.

That scientific inference requires, for its validity, principles which experience cannot render even probable is, I believe, an inescapable conclusion from the logic of probability....'Knowledge,' in my opinion, is a much less precise concept than is generally thought, and has its roots more deeply embedded in unverbalized animal behavior than most philosophers have been willing to admit....To ask, therefore, whether we 'know' the postulates of scientific inference is not so definite a question as it seems....In the sense in which 'no' is the right answer we know nothing whatever, and 'knowledge' in this sense is a delusive vision. The perplexities of philosophers are due, in large measure, to their unwillingness to awaken from their blissful dream.

So understood, esotericism is what goes beyond the exterior form and the masses, the physical, and puts an elite in contact with invisible superior forces. In my case, the condition that paralysed me in the midst of dreaming and left me without means to influence the phenomena. The visible is symbol of invisible forces (Archetypes, Gods). By means of an esoteric knowledge, of an initiation in this knowledge, a hierarchic minority can make contact with these invisible forces, being able to act on the Symbol, dynamizing and controlling the physical phenomena that incarnate them. In my case: to come to control the involuntary process which, without knowing how, was controlling me, to be able to guide it, to check or avoid it. Jung referred to this when he said 'if someone wisely faces the Archetype, in whatever place in the world, he acquires universal validity because the Archetype is one and indivisible'. And the means to reach this spiritual world, 'on the other side of the mirror,' is Magic, Rite, Ritual, Ceremony. All religions have possessed them, even the Christian, as we have said. And the Rite is not something invented by humans but inspired by 'those from beyond,' Jung would say by the Collective Unconscious.

The contemporary Christian Church, precisely, has understood them in this' 'wrong way, to the letter, 'like the Jews,' exoterically, not esoterically. Nevertheless to say 'like the Jews' is an error. One would have to say 'as the Jews want.' Because they also possess an exotericism, for their masses, represented by the Torah and Talmud, and an esotericism, in the Cabala (which means: 'Received Tradition'), in the Zohar ('brightness'), the Merkaba or Chariot being the most secret part of the Cabala which only initiated rabbis know and use as the powerful tool of their magic. We have already said that the Cabala reached them from elsewhere, like everything else, in the Middle Ages, even though they tell us otherwise, using and transforming it in concordance with their Archetype. The Hasidim, from Poland, represent an exclusively esoteric sect of Judaism. Islam also has its esoteric magic, represented by Sufism and the sect of the Assassins, Hassanists, oflran. They interpret the Koran symbolically. And it was because of contact with this sect of the 'Old Man of the Mountain' that the Templars felt compelled to secede more and more from the direction of Rome, centering themselves in their Esoteric Kristianity and Mystery of the Gral. This was also why Rome destroyed them, like the esoteric Cathars (katharos = pure in Greek), the Bogomils, the Manichees and the gnostics. In the Church of Rome, called Catholic, there only remains a soulless ritual of the Mass, as a liturgical shell that no longer reaches the Symbol, which no longer touches it, no longer puts it into action. The Nordic contribution has been lost, destroyed by prejudice and the ethnological persecution of Nordicism, Germanism and the complete surrender to Judaism. Zen Buddhism preserves the esotericism of Buddha. In Japan Shinto and Zen are practiced by a racially superior warrior caste, the Samurai. The most esoteric side of Hinduism is found in Tantrism, especially in the Kaula or Kula Order. So understood, esotericism is what goes beyond the exterior form and the masses, the physical, and puts an elite in contact with invisible superior forces. In my case, the condition that paralysed me in the midst of dreaming and left me without means to influence the phenomena. The visible is symbol of invisible forces (Archetypes, Gods). By means of an esoteric knowledge, of an initiation in this knowledge, a hierarchic minority can make contact with these invisible forces, being able to act on the Symbol, dynamizing and controlling the physical phenomena that incarnate them. In my case: to come to control the involuntary process which, without knowing how, was controlling me, to be able to guide it, to check or avoid it. Jung referred to this when he said 'if someone wisely faces the Archetype, in whatever place in the world, he acquires universal validity because the Archetype is one and indivisible'. And the means to reach this spiritual world, 'on the other side of the mirror,' is Magic, Rite, Ritual, Ceremony. All religions have possessed them, even the Christian, as we have said. And the Rite is not something invented by humans but inspired by 'those from beyond,' Jung would say by the Collective Unconscious.

Beyoncé and Rihanna were pop stars. Pop stars were musical performers whose celebrity had exploded to the point where they could be identified by single words. You could say BEYONCÉ or RIHANNA to almost anyone anywhere in the industrialized world and it would conjure a vague neurological image of either Beyoncé or Rihanna. Their songs were about the same six subjects of all songs by all pop stars: love, celebrity, fucking, heartbreak, money and buying ugly shit. It was the Twenty-First Century. It was the Internet. Fame was everything. Traditional money had been debased by mass production. Traditional money had ceased to be about an exchange of humiliation for food and shelter. Traditional money had become the equivalent of a fantasy world in which different hunks of vampiric plastic made emphatic arguments about why they should cross the threshold of your home. There was nothing left to buy. Fame was everything because traditional money had failed. Fame was everything because fame was the world’s last valid currency. Beyoncé and Rihanna were part of a popular entertainment industry which deluged people with images of grotesque success. The unspoken ideology of popular entertainment was that its customers could end up as famous as the performers. They only needed to try hard enough and believe in their dreams. Like all pop stars, Beyoncé and Rihanna existed off the illusion that their fame was a shared experience with their fans. Their fans weren’t consumers. Their fans were fellow travelers on a journey through life. In 2013, this connection between the famous and their fans was fostered on Twitter. Beyoncé and Rihanna were tweeting. Their millions of fans were tweeting back. They too could achieve their dreams. Of course, neither Beyoncé nor Rihanna used Twitter. They had assistants and handlers who packaged their tweets for maximum profit and exposure. Fame could purchase the illusion of being an Internet user without the purchaser ever touching a mobile phone or a computer. That was a difference between the rich and the poor. The poor were doomed to the Internet, which was a wonderful resource for watching shitty television, experiencing angst about other people’s salaries, and casting doubt on key tenets of Mormonism and Scientology. If Beyoncé or Rihanna were asked about how to be like them and gave an honest answer, it would have sounded like this: “You can’t. You won’t. You are nothing like me. I am a powerful mixture of untamed ambition, early childhood trauma and genetic mystery. I am a portal in the vacuum of space. The formula for my creation is impossible to replicate. The One True God made me and will never make the like again. You are nothing like me.

There has to be a more loving dream, a dream that appeals to the hearts of humans. There is I know, a more refined dream, which appeals to the human soul,’ offered Wonder encouragingly. ‘I am not so sure,’ rejoined Double Doubt, responding to the tone of hope in Wonder’s voice. ‘Why choose war over peace? Humankind has trod that path so diligently that they have forgotten that there are other ways of ease.’ ‘True. Tis true! But is it not the dominant actions of the few, who lead the many? Does not the fear of being a voice of reason in the wilderness overwhelm the gentle of heart?’ ‘The gentle of heart are weak! Too weak in energy to perform, to take action, and are drained by the fear of action, a fear which inhibits action. I doubt they will break through the fog of fear.’ ‘The fog of fear you say? Or is it their sense of impotence that overwhelms them from speaking out? Knowing that any attempt to change the consensus reality of their space-time is an enormous task, an overwhelming task, and that just to hold the thought of a breakthrough is about the only choice they have.’ ‘Enormous it may be, in terms of consciousness,’ replied Double Doubt. ‘But consciousness grounded in impeccability, will far outweigh the fog of fear, so why the problem? Humans do not seem to understand that the universal energy supports life-furthering consciousness. Such a waste of human resources! No Doubt. No Doubt.’ ‘I understand what you are propounding Gnome Double Doubt, however, it seems to me that most human beings are still not fully aware of the power of thought, and are still not aware of how energy exists; transforming itself through the power of thought. It is only a matter of space-time before humans come to understand the difficult concept of Universal space-time and energy.’ ‘Your optimism is based on a need for perfection Wonder. Humans also seek perfection, but as yet have not come within a whale’s breath of it, and a whale’s breath is vast! I cannot see why you hold out such great hope for these vulnerable humans. It seems to me that your wonderings about their futures will take you away from the higher pursuits of the experiment. Let us deal with one human at a time. Remember, one action, one thought can change the ways of all,’ encouraged Gnome Double Doubt, now taking on the role of the advocate of hope. ‘It is now urgent that we pull ourselves together and act in a more gnome-like manner and have done with all this wallowing concern for the human race.’ ‘You are always so wise Double Doubt. I know you are on the right path,’ conceded Wonder, knowing that Double Doubt was now out of the foggy mire of confusion and back on the track of practicality. ‘I wish I could let go of seeking something of a higher dreaming for the humans. But alas I know myself,’ sighed Wonder. ‘I am as I am, a wondering wanderlust or a Wonder-last, and the last being to wonder or to lust over a dream of such beauty, that it would vanquish the fear of insecurity in the human realm forever. So near and yet so far! I wonder. I wonder? Is it a possibility, or just a dream, as ephemeral in substance as the gossamer rainbow wings of our dear friends the fairies?' ‘My goodness! You do go on Wonder. It seems to me, but who am I to doubt, that you waste so much energy on a dream without substance, a dream which is based on fear, a dream which is embedded like granite in human thought, a dream that would take earth shattering energy to shift such rigidity of thought. Take my advice Wonder. Begin with the smallest crack in the edifice of human thought, and that lies in the direction of Petunia. Leave the human race to experiencing life as they choose to. Until they validate, that ‘All is connected. All is divine’, then they will not be and cannot be, aware of the realm of All That Is. T.L. Franklin (Excerpt from ‘Wonder and Double Doubt’ - Chapter 9, Page 294)

Marc’s expression was grim and told me all I needed to know. Sliding my arms across the table I rested my forehead against the smooth surface and then banged it against the wood twice for good measure. “I can’t think,” I said. “Can you deal with it until I have more time?” “I suppose.” Marc sat down in a chair across from me and said nothing else, which allowed me to turn my attention back to the girl. She was fading. I straightened abruptly. “It’s diminishing! The bond, it’s fading away.” The triumphant grin on my face vanished at the sight of Marc’s slowly shaking head. “She’s sleeping. You’ll notice her a lot less when she’s asleep, unless she dreams – that can get interesting.” I motioned for him to fill my glass. “It isn’t interesting at all,” I said. “It’s a problem. She’s a problem – one that needs dealing with.” Marc’s face darkened. “Cécile,” he said, emphasizing her name, “isn’t a problem. She’s an innocent girl who has been dragged into this situation entirely against her will. Your father had her violently kidnapped, dragged through the labyrinth, and then bonded to a troll using a magic that I am certain she didn’t know existed. She is not our problem – we are hers.” Leaning back in my chair, I watched my orb of light circling above us. “You make a valid point.” “The poor girl is probably terrified,” Marc added. “How could she not be?” “Well, she isn’t,” I said. “What she is, is blasted inquisitive. I’d rather the fear – fear doesn’t think, it just reacts.

In my opinion, we chatted back and forth pleasantly through the hour-and-a-half journey, but at the end he said to me, “Thank you for telling me about yourself.” It really hit me. He was the dream validator - handsome, intelligent, successful. And that’s what I had used him for. I had shown no interest in him as a person, only in him as a mirror of my excellence. Luckily for me, what he mirrored back to me was a far more valuable lesson.

By recognizing my mother’s limitations, I was able to realize she’d done the best she could. I finally began to accept that she would never be the kind of mom I had wanted or needed her to be. She was who she was. I didn’t have to like it, but I needed to accept it completely and unconditionally. If I was going to do that for her, I needed to do the same for myself. I needed to accept that my childhood programming was what it was, forgive those who had instilled it, forgive myself for living by it, and break the habit of needing the approval of others in order to feel validated. This was challenging because my need for approval was so strong. If my mother wouldn’t give it to me, who would? Answer: No one, and that was okay. The approval of others no longer needed to be criteria for my own self-worth. It had to be enough that I was proud of my accomplishments and milestones. No matter what happened to me in my life, regardless of the opinions of others, I had to accept myself.

This was my first time buying weed in a legal setting and when you’re me that something you never forget it’s a fucking dream come true. The normalization of something you’ve been told your whole life is highly illicit was oddly validating.

Today is a great day to think about your death. Lie down somewhere cozy. Do a mental run-through, as if it were happening right now. Ideally, who is here with you? As you look back on your life, is anything missing? Don’t wait another minute to take action on anything that bubbles up. This is really living.” SARAH When I think about my death, I mostly think about gratitude and wanting to love people better. You might think about your will, a letter you need to write, a soul dream you haven’t acted on yet, caring less about what other people think about you, or giving your Gmail password to your designated power of attorney. All of it is valid. When you’re ready to die every day, you’re fully primed for life. If you had died yesterday, what would you wish you had done more of? Less of?

As you look at a recorded dream that contains your own gaze in it, you realize you are quite literally looking at yourself across time. Your own past is also closer than it may appear. Whether we’re talking a span of a few hours or days or a few decades, such an idea has no place in mainstream psychology or philosophy. Just imagine what it could do for our sense of self to have such experiences more frequently. Discovering some past dream representation of oneself looking back at the dream in hindsight is the most powerful validation of precognitive dreamwork as a gnosis: the knower is literally included in the known. There’s that serpent devouring its own tail, again. It is also yet another startling confirmation of the solid, block-like nature of spacetime: the past is still here, and more amazingly, the future is already here. The evidence is there for those who merely have the patience to write their dreams down in their journals and routinely go back to their dream records. The act of inscription is crucial, though. Even though I might well have remembered my Permian-battle dream from the night before without a written record, I would never have been sure of my memories, or sure I wasn’t somehow deceiving myself, and I would easily have forgotten a small but pertinent detail like the laser dot.

4.2.2.1.4. Teaching That the Cognition That Negates the Existence of Objects Is a Valid Cognition "If valid cognition is not valid cognition, Isn't what is validated by it delusive? In true reality, the emptiness of entities Is therefore unjustified." [138]'-" [903] This verse states the objection. The opponents might say, "If you assert in your Centrist system that even all valid cognition-which is the means of evaluation-is not valid cognition, isn't a phenomenon that is validated by it delusive too? If one analyzes in accord with true Centrist analysis, emptiness is not established, and, in consequence, meditation on emptiness is unjustified as well." Without referring to an imputed entity, One cannot apprehend the lack of this entity. Therefore, the lack of a delusive entity Is clearly delusive [too]. [139] This verse teaches that [everything] is mere delusion. Without referring to-that is, without relying on-a mere imputed entity, one is also not able to apprehend or present the lack of this entity, which is emptiness. The reason is that if one does not rely on the conventional term [or notion of] space, one is not able to present space as [referring to] the lack of any entities."" Therefore, since sentient beings cling to the reality of delusive entities that are mere appearances, they plunge into cyclic existence. If one understands that these very [appearances] are unreal and illusionlike, this [understanding] surely serves as the remedy for the [clinging to reality]. However, emptiness-which is this imputation in the sense of the lack of such delusive [appearances] that appear as entities-is clearly delusive too. In the same way as an illusory lion kills an illusory elephant, this is [nothing more than] engaging in the [particular] reification of understanding emptiness as the remedy for the reification that conceives of real [entities]. Thus, when one's son dies in a dream, The conception "He does not exist" Removes the thought that he does exist, But it is also delusive. [140] This verse teaches that the [cultivation of emptiness] is the remedy for reification. Thus, if one experiences in a dream that one's son has been born and then dies, inasmuch as this is a dream, there is definitely no difference between the [son]'s birth and his death. Still, due to one's seeing [in the dream] that he has been born, there arises the mental state that conceives, "My son exists." When there is the appearance that he has died, there emerges the conception "My son has died and now he does not exist," [904] which removes the thought that fancies, "My son does exist." However, since both-the existence and the nonexistence of this son too-are equal in being a dream, they are alike in being delusive.

It was the first time I understood that for undocumented immigrants, every single decision has potentially life-altering consequences. Nothing is ever simple. There would always be more consequences to face. I did the right thing by calling the police, but I had also done a terrible thing, and the fallout would be earth- shattering. My dad was in jail for one night. When he came back home, he apologized. Under normal circumstances, our relationship might have improved after that night. The threat of going to prison, an arrest record, and the shame of going to jail might have been what my dad needed to turn his life around. But our situation was anything but normal. What I didn’t know when I called the police was that he would be deported. He had a valid visa, but for legal reasons I didn’t understand, he was forced to leave the country for six months.

Hip-hop had begun to play a special role in my life. It wasn't just music and lyrics. It was a validator. In my struggle to reconcile my two worlds, it was an essential asset...But even more than that, I found in hip-hop the sound of my generation talking to itself, working through the fears and anxieties and inchoate dreams - of wealth or power or revolution or success - we all shared. It broadcast an exaggerated version of our complicated interior lives to the world, made us feel less alone in the madness of the era, less marginal.

Sometimes I wonder whether my whole life has been a singular quest for beauty. Beauty in mathematics, and beauty in literature and in music. I feel that creating mathematics and writing fiction are closely related. While authors are poets in the universe of language, mathematicians seek the poetry in the language of the universe. The German mathematician Karl Weierstrass once wrote that any great mathematician must also be a poet. When I was young, several people told me that I’d be a poet when I grew up. So in a way, it feels as if I’ve tried to investigate whether the reverse implication is true: whether every poet must also be a great mathematician. I still don’t know the answer, but I doubt that this is the case. Over the past few years, I’ve started to dream of writing a novel. I’ve marveled at how the enjoyment of hearing a piece of music often gets stronger the better you know the piece, while a novel rarely has the same impact on third reading. Is it because music relies on recognition, while literature relies on the unexpected? Or has it more to do with the structure of the music, how the themes reflect each other so that the listener discovers ever new connections? The way the interplay of colors in a painting can fluctuate in different light, so that the painting continually changes? If so, it must be possible to write a novel in the same way. A novel that gets richer every time you read it, because you discover new connections that were previously invisible. A novel that carries something of the eternal beauty of music and mathematics within it. One of the most alluring things about mathematics is perhaps the feeling of being able to uncover unshakeable truths. And that terms such as truth and beauty obtain a kind of objectivity, because mathematicians have a shared understanding of what constitutes a valid proof and what is aesthetically beautiful. The disadvantage is that the truths of mathematics don’t say anything about what is true in the world beyond mathematics itself.

I was more than other people’s assessments of my worth or my abilities or my aspirations. It wasn’t outrageous to believe I deserved love and respect. It wasn’t a reach to think that I could have a fulfilling life. My hopes and dreams were no less valid than anyone else’s. Of course, that didn’t mean I was guaranteed success- no one is- but it did mean that I owed it to myself to try. What is brokenness anyway, except someone else projecting their own insecurities onto what they imagine your worth to be?

But how I yearned to share the numinous world I had come to study, metabolize, and respect. Maybe that’s why I began looking away from Sterling Library. Because I was dreaming, instead, of a library I might fit into. One with space to hold my cousins, my tías, my sister, mi madre. An archive made of us, that held our concepts and reality so that future Perez girls would have no question of our existence or validity.

Abhijit The Useless (A Sonnet) At school I didn't even know the term neuroscience, Yet today I'm a symbol of neuroscience and psychology. As a kid I never even dreamed of becoming a scientist, I just wanted to observe the underpinnings of reality. After high school I failed my medical entrance exam, Yet to the world I am a vessel of ethics in medicine. I chose CS Engineering instead but soon dropped out, Yet today I am the epitome of responsible engineering. Failure and success are eternally entangled, Masses fear them while legends feast on failure. I never felt the urge for academic validation, Yet today I'm regularly cited in Springer. I never studied science in the pursuit of grades, I accidentally became a scientist by doing science. Grades and degrees are shortcut to social validation, But when you are a pioneer pushing the frontiers, all mortal validation turns null and void.

But then I think about all the other people, all the other people who are in this room right now for the exact same reason, and realize my want, my dream, is as big and real and valid as theirs.

He leans against the railing. “My father never wanted me to paint. In fact, he only wanted me to do what he himself approved of first. Because you see, to my father, my purpose in life was not to follow my dreams. It was to bring him happiness. He had a very strong understanding of what I needed to do in order to make him happy. And if I wasn’t making him happy, well, then, what was the point of having children? “I wasted a lot of time trying to be the son he wanted because I thought failing him meant that I was failing in life. Anytime he was unhappy, I thought it was my fault. If he was angry at me, I felt to blame. He always found a way to make me feel as if I had let him down in some way.” Hiroshi straightens his back. “At his funeral, I overheard some people referring to him as ‘Starfish.’ I asked them why they gave him that nickname, and they told me it was because he always had to be the center of attention. Like the legs of a starfish, all pointing to the middle. He thought he was the center of all things.” Hiroshi laughs. “All that time growing up, I thought I was the only one who could see. I thought nobody understood the way he was. I thought I was the problem. But some people are just starfish—they need everyone to fill the roles that they assign. They need the world to sit around them, pointing at them and validating their feelings. But you can’t spend your life trying to make a starfish happy, because no matter what you do, it will never be enough. They will always find a way to make themselves the center of attention, because it’s the only way they know how to live.

My side has always been different--it's one where my family and I have always had to 'be careful,' one where our existence has always been up for debate, where my dreams are less valid, no matter how hard I might be willing to work to achieve them.

Our minds have a vast capacity for healing through images. Whether we’re imagining a scene of forgiveness, comfort, or letting go, or simply visualizing a loved one, images can profoundly settle into our bodies and sink into our minds. In my work, I’ve found that helping people to unearth the image that most resonates with them is the cornerstone of healing. The notion of the healing power of images was valid long before brain scans could prove it. More than a hundred years ago, the poet William Butler Yeats wrote that “wisdom first speaks through images,” and that if we just allow ourselves to be guided by the image that lives inside us, our souls will become “simple as flame” and our bodies will become “quiet as an agate lamp.” In 1913, Carl Jung coined the term active imagination, a technique that uses images (often from a dream) to enter into a dialogue with the unconscious mind, bringing to light what has been shrouded in darkness. Recently, the idea of visualization for healing has gained widespread traction, with guided imagery programs readily available to lower stress, reduce anxiety, boost athletic performance, and help with specific fears and phobias.

I am me. Every day. Not who I think others expect me to be, But the real, unedited, beauty-full, perfectly flawed version. I choose to think for myself. I speak my truth And wrestle with life’s tough questions over and over again. I daydream about a better world and strive to make it my reality. My purpose drives me And I give it the freedom to change and evolve. I breathe life to my dreams and to the dreams of others. I believe in magic. I look for it everywhere. I make an adventure of ordinary things. Create, imagine, reinvent, and get lost. I do things that inspire me. I defy the odds, raise my hand, sit at the table and lean in. I refuse to give up. I pursue my passion at all costs. I do things that terrify me. My head dances among the stars, and my feet remain on mother earth. I’m willing to ask the hard questions, to take chances, to love with my whole heart. My mistakes and failures make me stronger. I do not ascribe my worth to external validation, but to my character. I surround myself with phenomenal people, Especially ones who don’t always agree with me. I choose authenticity over perfection. I appreciate the small details that tend to go unnoticed by others. My worth is innate and immeasurable. I try to remind myself of that, daily. I exercise patience as often as possible, Stay vulnerable even when I want to close my heart And practice coexisting with things that make me uncomfortable. I set boundaries, work to honor them, And am willing to edit people out of my life who don’t. I walk more than a mile in other people’s shoes, And suspend judgment as long as humanly possible. I remember to laugh more, stress less, forgive often, and inject love everywhere I can. I do my best to relinquish every ounce of control because it’s futile. I throw my hands up, close my eyes, and Revel in life’s awesome and mysterious ride. My emotions are fleeting, they do not define me. My choices do, and I do my best to make good ones. I feed my body good, whole foods, But don’t punish myself for the occasional indulgence. I move my body every day. I stretch, challenge, and honor her. I rest when I need to. I don’t accept every invitation that comes my way. I practice saying “no.” Show myself kindness, compassion, and unconditional love. I am my best friend, I’m proud of me. I share my life’s lessons with others, even the not so shiny ones. I hold nothing back. Cry when I need to, But also recognize when I need to buck up. I remember to breathe and in that space, I find my calm among the chaos. I owe it to myself to be remarkable, so I am.