Re Himalayan Quotes

While traditional saunas heat the air around you, infrared light in an infrared sauna directly penetrates and heats your body tissue. You can stay in these saunas longer without feeling like you’re going to pass out. Also, infrared light is beneficial to your mitochondria (see chapter 8 for more on this). Keep in mind that sweating pulls electrolytes and trace minerals from your body, so it’s important to drink a lot of fluids and get plenty of salt (preferably Himalayan pink salt or another mineral-rich natural salt) if you use a sauna to detox.

It’s a natural law (or supernatural, if you’re so inclined) that weird things appear where people tend to disappear. African jungles, Pacific islands, Himalayan wastelands—wherever expeditionary parties go missing, that’s where lost species, Stonehengey stone idols, the flitting shadows of yetis, and ancient, unsurrendering Japanese soldiers are sure to pop up. The

Her father showed her the Himalayan yeti, the Loch Ness Monster, the Patagonian giant sloth. There was the Irish elk with antles as big as wings. The South African quagga, which started as a zebra until it ran out of stripes and became a horse. The great auk, the lion-tailed monkey, the Queensland tiger. So many incredible extra creatures in the world, and nobody had found a single one of them. "Do you think they're real?" she said. Her father nodded. "I have begun to feel comforted," he said, "by the thought of all we do not know, which is nearly everything.

We’re reminded of a story we heard about a wise old man who lived high in the Himalayan mountains. Periodically he ventured down into the local town to entertain the villagers with his special knowledge and talents. One of his skills was to psychically tell them the contents in their pockets, boxes, or minds. A few young boys decided to play a joke on the old man and discredit his special abilities. One came up with the idea to capture a bird and hide it in his hands. He knew, of course, the man would know the object in his hands was a bird. The boy devised a plan. Knowing the wise old man would correctly state the object in his hands was a bird, the boy would ask the old man if the bird was dead or alive. If the wise man said the bird was alive, the boy would crush the bird in his hands, so that when he opened his hands the bird would be dead. But if the man said the bird was dead, the boy would open his hands and let the bird fly free. No matter what the man said, the boy would prove the old man a fraud. The following week, the man came down from the mountain into the village. The boy quickly caught a bird, cupped it out of sight behind his back, walked up to the wise old man, and asked, “What is it that I have in my hands?” The man said, “You have a bird, my son.” The boy then asked, “Tell me, is the bird alive or dead?” The wise old man looked at the boy and said, “The bird is as you choose it to be.” So it is with your life.

No matter what monks in their Himalayan caves or philosophers in their ivory towers say, for the capitalist juggernaut, happiness is pleasure. Period. With each passing year our tolerance for unpleasant sensations decreases, and our craving for pleasant sensations increases. Both scientific research and economic activity are geared to that end, each year producing better painkillers, new ice-cream flavours, more comfortable mattresses, and more addictive games for our smartphones, so that we will not suffer a single boring moment while waiting for the bus. All this is hardly enough, of course. Since Homo sapiens was not adapted by evolution to experience constant pleasure, if that is what humankind nevertheless wants, ice cream and smartphone games will not do. It will be necessary to change our biochemistry and re-engineer our bodies and minds. So we are working on that. You may debate whether it is good or bad, but it seems that the second great project of the twenty-first century – to ensure global happiness – will involve re-engineering Homo sapiens so that it can enjoy everlasting pleasure.

In a matter of sixty short minutes, that thing could whisk Neil away to civilization, I thought. Hmm. My goodness, that was a beautiful prospect. Somehow I had to get on that chopper with him. I packed in thirty seconds flat, everything from the past three months. I taped a white cross onto my sleeve, and raced out to where Neil was sat waiting. One chance. What the heck. Neil shook his head at me, smiling. “God, you push it, Bear, don’t you?” he shouted over the noise of the rotors. “You’re going to need a decent medic on the flight,” I replied, with a smile. “And I’m your man.” (There was at least some element of truth in this: I was a medic and I was his buddy--and yes, he did need help. But essentially I was trying to pull a bit of a fast one.) The pilot shouted that two people would be too heavy. “I have to accompany him at all times,” I shouted back over the engine noise. “His feet might fall off at any moment,” I added quietly. The pilot looked back at me, then at the white cross on my sleeve. He agreed to drop Neil somewhere down at a lower altitude, and then come back for me. “Perfect. Go. I’ll be here.” I shook his hand firmly. Let’s just get this done before anyone thinks too much about it, I mumbled to myself. And with that the pilot took off and disappeared from view. Mick and Henry were laughing. “If you pull this one off, Bear, I will eat my socks. You just love to push it, don’t you?” Mick said, smiling. “Yep, good try, but you aren’t going to see him again, I guarantee you,” Henry added. Thanks to the pilot’s big balls, he was wrong. The heli returned empty, I leapt aboard, and with the rotors whirring at full power to get some grip in the thin air, the bird slowly lifted into the air. The stall warning light kept buzzing away as we fought against gravity, but then the nose dipped and soon we were skimming over the rocks, away from base camp and down the glacier. I was out of there--and Mick was busy taking his socks off. As we descended, I spotted, far beneath us, this lone figure sat on a rock in the middle of a giant boulder field. Neil’s two white “beacons” shining bright. I love it. I smiled. We picked Neil up, and in an instant we were flying together through the huge Himalayan valleys like an eagle freed. Neil and I sat back in the helicopter, faces pressed against the glass, and watched our life for the past three months become a shimmer in the distance. The great mountain faded into a haze, hidden from sight. I leaned against Neil’s shoulder and closed my eyes. Everest was gone.

Himalayan Sonneteer Sonnet 1 My science is you, my art is you, La mañana de mi mente eres tú. Mi casa tú, mi cielo tú, La verdad de mi vida eres tú. People are the truth of life, Not some beliefs and biases. People are the magic of my words, People are the center of my poetries. People are the beginning, People are the end. People are the meaning, People are the mend. We lift ourselves when we lift up the people. When we're each other's rock, we are unstoppable.

Good Seed (The Sonnet) It is existentially impossible, For all republicans to be inhuman fiend. But when they violate human rights as daily choir, It is also impossible to notice the good seed. It is existentially impossible, For all republicans to incite hate and violence. But when a party coddles guns over children, It is difficult to find anything good in them. It is existentially impossible, For all republicans to confuse divinity with division. But when a party uses bible as an excuse for bigotry, It is impossible to see the silent vessels of inclusion. Forgive me, if at times I have been harsh at an entire party! I know you're there, o good seed - it is time to grow some greenery.

Aamir, recalling back to the idyllic days of his college youth, pictured himself once again sitting quietly on a familiar neighbourhood rooftop. He often enjoyed relaxing there, alone or with friends, while watching the colourful fluttering prayer flags on rooftop poles, especially in the warmth of an early evening breeze, as wispy clouds drifted against the jagged Himalayan backdrop. He has oft times wondered, ever since his childhood, if the prayers to the spirits of the dead, flying out from those slowly tattering rags, will ever really be answered. Perhaps it will be in another place, in another time, when we’re living another life that we shall finally know. Aamir had calmly thought at the time. He was that sort of philosophical guy.

Gramphu—fifteen kilometres after the Rohtang Pass while heading from Manali to Keylong—is more a collection of tea shops than a village. If you turn right here, you’re on the road to Kaza. It is this road that often makes me believe that if there were a god of landscaping amongst the multitude of gods that make up the Hindu pantheon, then the Himalayan district of Spiti would quite simply be the pinnacle of his or her art.

Sonnet 1609 Myself Human, Himalayan Human - broader than your schools, higher than your walls. Myself Sapiens, Serendipitous Sapiens - holier than hagiographies, stranger than quantum world. Be a Muslim, be a Christian, Be an Atheist, or be a martian! None of these means nothing at all, till we're each other's emancipation.

She is Crown (The Sonnet) Love her for all she is, Not just when she can please. She is the crown of your life, Not the fly of your jeans. Love her for all she is, Even when she hates herself. If you can't be the rock to her, It is you who needs help. Love her for all she is, Be the cushion to her failure. While all celebrate her triumph, You celebrate her even in disaster. Death can't do you part if you're never two. Love is what turns two minds into one truth.

We choose to go to the moon,” Kennedy answered, “We choose to go to the moon in this decade and do the other things, not because they are easy, but because they are hard, because that goal will serve to organize and measure the best of our energies and skills, because that challenge is one that we are willing to accept, one we are unwilling to postpone, and one which we intend to win.” It was an audacious and dangerous plan. Not only had the Soviets launched Sputnik, the world’s first artificial satellite, in 1957, but Russian cosmonaut Yuri Gagarin had beaten the first American astronaut into space by three weeks. The Space Race was on and the Americans were losing. Kennedy was undaunted. “It will be done,” he said. Then, in closing his speech, he turned to the past. “Many years ago the great British explorer George Mallory, who was to die on Mount Everest, was asked why did he want to climb it. He said, ‘Because it is there.’ Well, space is there,” Kennedy said, “and we’re going to climb it, and the moon and the planets are there, and new hopes for knowledge and peace are there. And, therefore, as we set sail we ask God’s blessing on the most hazardous and dangerous and greatest adventure on which man has ever embarked. Thank you.” The Great Himalayan Race hadn’t ended after all.

A pilgrimage in search of the present moment is a pilgrimage for awareness. To borrow a spatial analogy, we’re already there. Only we aren’t aware of it. When we’re not aware of it, we think there’s something we lack, something we have to do. We think in terms of mathematics. We think we have to add or subtract something from the present moment to be happy. But nothing can be taken from, or added to, what is.