Relax And Take It Easy Quotes

The first step towards true enlightenment is to lighten up on yourself.

You start to die the moment you are born. The whole of life is cutting through the pack with death. So take it easy.

When we retire at night, we constructively review our day. Were we resentful, selfish, dishonest or afraid? Do we owe an apology? Have we kept something to ourselves which should be discussed with another person at once? Were we kind and loving toward all? What could we have done better? Were we thinking of ourselves most of the time? Or were we thinking of what we could do for others, of what we could pack into the stream of life? But we must be careful not to drift into worry, remorse or morbid reflection, for that would diminish our usefulness to others. After making our review we ask God’s forgiveness and inquire what corrective measures should be taken. On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives. Under these conditions we can employ our mental faculties with assurance, for after all God gave us brains to use. Our thought-life will be placed on a much higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives. In thinking about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to determine which course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive thought or a decision. We relax and take it easy. We don’t struggle. We are often surprised how the right answers come after we have tried this for a while. What used to be the hunch or the occasional inspiration gradually becomes a working part of the mind. Being still inexperienced and having just made conscious contact with God, it is not probable that we are going to be inspired at all times. We might pay for this presumption in all sorts of absurd actions and ideas. Nevertheless, we find that our thinking will, as time passes, be more and more on the plane of inspiration. We come to rely upon it. We usually conclude the period of meditation with a prayer that we be shown all through the day what our next step is to be, that we be given whatever we need to take care of such problems. We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends. Many of us have wasted a lot of time doing that and it doesn’t work. You can easily see why.

Amazing things happen when you get enough sleep, eat properly, and take it easy. Your nerve endings relax, and your spirit, or the six-sensory part of you, rejuvenates and begins to shine light on your path.

Descansado," he tells me. "What does that mean?" "Descansado," Rip says. "It means 'take it easy,'" he whispers, clutching the child next to him. "Yeah?" "It means relax.

I will do it tomorrow," said Toad. "Today I will take life easy.

Not easy when you can't talk, is it?" I grinned. "Well, not easy for you but I could get used to it." He grumbled, but I could see relif in his eyes, like he was glad to see me smile. "SO i was right, wasn't I? It's still youm even in wolf form." He grunted. "No sudden uncontrollable urges to go kill something?" He rolled his eyes. "Hey, you're the one who was worried." I paused. "And i don't smell like dinner, right?" I got a real look for that one. "Just covering all the bases." He gave a rumbling groul, like a chuckle, and settled in, lowering his head to his front paws, gaze on me. I tried to get comfortable, but the ground was ice-cold through his swearshirt, and i was wearing only my new pajamas, a light jacket, and sneakers. Seeing me shiver, he stretched a front leg toward the swearshirt, pawing the edge and snarling when he realized he couldnt grab it. "The lack of opposanle thumbs is going to take some getting used to, huh?" He motioned me closer with his muzzel. When I pretended not to understand, he twisted and gingerly took the hem of the swearshirt between his teeth, lips curled in discust as he tugged it. "Okay, okay. I'm just trying not to croud you." That wasnt the only reason i was uncomfortanle getting too cozy with him now, but he just grunted, again seeming to say it was fine. i moved over beside himm. He shifted, his torso making a partial wind block, the boddy heat from the change still blasting like a furnace. He grunted. "Yes, thats better.thanks. now get some rest." i had no idea what would happen now. i doubted derek did either. he'd been focused on getting through the change. what i did know was that this was only half the process. he had to change back, and he'd need time and rest for that. and how would it happen? did he have to wait until his body was ready, like he did with the change to a wolf? how long would that be?hours?days? Feeling his gaze on me, i forced a smile and pushed back my worries. it would be okat. he could change. that was the important thing. when i relaxed, he shifted closer, fur brushing my hand. i tentatively touched it, feeling the coarse top layer and soft undercoar. he leaned against my hand, as if to sat it was okaym and i buried my hand in his fur, his skin so hot from the change it was like putting my numb hands on a radiator. my cool fingers must have felt just as good, because he closed his eyes and shifte until i was leaning on him. within minutes he was asleep. i closed my eyes, meaning to rest for just a moment, but the next thing i knew, i was waking up, curled on my side, using derek as a pillow. i jumped. he looked over at me. "S-sorry, I didn't mean-" He cut me short with a growl, telling me off for apologizing.

Of the not very many ways known of shedding one's body, falling, falling, falling is the supreme method, but you have to select your sill or ledge very carefully so as not to hurt yourself or others. Jumping from a high bridge is not recommended even if you cannot swim, for wind and water abound in weird contingencies, and tragedy ought not to culminate in a record dive or a policeman's promotion. If you rent a cell in the luminous waffle, room 1915 or 1959, in a tall business centre hotel browing the star dust, and pull up the window, and gently - not fall, not jump - but roll out as you should for air comfort, there is always the chance of knocking clean through into your own hell a pacific noctambulator walking his dog; in this respect a back room might be safer, especially if giving on the roof of an old tenacious normal house far below where a cat may be trusted to flash out of the way. Another popular take-off is a mountaintop with a sheer drop of say 500 meters but you must find it, because you will be surprised how easy it is to miscalculate your deflection offset, and have some hidden projection, some fool of a crag, rush forth to catch you, causing you to bounce off it into the brush, thwarted, mangled and unnecessarily alive. The ideal drop is from an aircraft, your muscles relaxed, your pilot puzzled, your packed parachute shuffled off, cast off, shrugged off - farewell, shootka (little chute)! Down you go, but all the while you feel suspended and buoyed as you somersault in slow motion like a somnolent tumbler pigeon, and sprawl supine on the eiderdown of the air, or lazily turn to embrace your pillow, enjoying every last instant of soft, deep, death-padded life, with the earth's green seesaw now above, now below, and the voluptuous crucifixion, as you stretch yourself in the growing rush, in the nearing swish, and then your loved body's obliteration in the Lap of the Lord.

It’s enraging, recalling a dozen, a hundred, a thousand times in my life a man telling me to relax, be a team player, stop worrying so much, take it easy and roll with the punches. We’re all on the same team.

On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives. Under these conditions we can employ our mental faculties with assurance, for after all God gave us brains to use. Our thought-life will be placed on a much higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives. In thinking about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to determine which course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive thought or a decision. We relax and take it easy. We don’t struggle. We are often surprised how the right answers come after we have tried this for a while. What used to be the hunch or the occasional inspiration gradually becomes a working part of the mind. Being still inexperienced and having just made conscious contact with God, it is not probable that we are going to be inspired at all times. We might pay for this presumption in all sorts of absurd actions and ideas. Nevertheless, we find that our thinking will, as time passes, be more and more on the plane of inspiration. We come to rely upon it. We usually conclude the period of meditation with a prayer that we be shown all through the day what our next step is to be, that we be given whatever we need to take care of such problems. We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends. Many of us have wasted a lot of time doing that and it doesn’t work. You can easily see why.

Sometimes it's the hands that take life too seriously that tickle us to no end.

Why would anyone want to drink a poisonous, highly addictive drug that tastes foul; a drug that will shorten your life, debilitate your immune system and impede your concentration; a drug that will destroy your nervous system, your confidence, your courage and your ability to relax? Why would you want to take a drug that will cost you about £100,000/$160,000 in your lifetime and do absolutely nothing for you whatsoever?

If times are tough, your peers and your boss may very well say that you can’t afford to be remarkable. After all, we have to conserve, to play it safe; we don’t have the money to make a mistake. In good times, however, those same people will tell you to relax, take it easy; we can afford to be conservative, to play it safe.

It’s so easy to relax, to cut corners, to let down after you’ve reached your goal, and begin thinking you can just “turn it on” automatically, without proper preparation. It takes real character to keep working as hard or even harder once you’re there.

Take it easy. Nothing you do matters as much as you think. Your greatest achievements aren’t yours at all, they’re accidents and jokes. You’re a puppet, the universe does the work, and it gets the most done when you’re moving the least. Surrender, flow, relax. Don’t be hard on yourself, don’t put pressure on yourself, life is just a chain of experiments and results, and you’ll be perfect when you’re dead.

On awakening let us think about the twenty-four hours ahead. We consider our plans for the day. Before we begin, we ask God to direct our thinking, especially asking that it be divorced from self-pity, dishonest or self-seeking motives. Under these conditions we can employ our mental faculties with assurance, for after all God gave us brains to use. Our thought-life will be placed on a much higher plane when our thinking is cleared of wrong motives. In thinking about our day we may face indecision. We may not be able to determine which course to take. Here we ask God for inspiration, an intuitive thought or a decision. We relax and take it easy. We don’t struggle. We are often surprised how the right answers come after we have tried this for a while. What used to be the hunch or the occasional inspiration gradually becomes a working part of the mind. Being still inexperienced and having just made conscious contact with God, it is not probable that we are going to be inspired at all times. We might pay for this presumption in all sorts of absurd actions and ideas. Nevertheless, we find that our thinking will, as time passes, be more and more on the plane of inspiration. We come to rely upon it. We usually conclude the period of meditation with a prayer that we be shown all through the day what our next step is to be, that we be given whatever we need to take care of such problems. We ask especially for freedom from self-will, and are careful to make no request for ourselves only. We may ask for ourselves, however, if others will be helped. We are careful never to pray for our own selfish ends.

Maternal stress during pregnancy has effects on the emotional and stress hormone reactions, particularly in female offspring. These effects were measured in goat kids. The stressed female kids ended up startling more easily and being less calm and more anxious than the male kids after birth. Furthermore, female kids who were stressed in utero showed a great deal more emotional distress than female kids who weren’t. So if you’re a girl about to enter the womb, plan to be born to an unstressed mom who has a calm, loving partner and family to support her. And if you are a mom-to-be carrying a female fetus, take it easy so that your daughter will be able to relax.

Take it easy," he jeered, "relax. I used to be a sailor. You'll never get out of them knots, buddy.

Your best self is probably the one who trusts yourself the most, is able to relax and be social when you feel like it, and is able to seek quiet time when you need it. Someone who is able to be spontaneous when it suits you, and willing to take up space, speak up, take risks, use your creativity, is willing for things to be messy and imperfect—and is an all-around happier human.

Letting another man into my body isn’t easy for me. I don’t know why. It just isn’t. I want to, though. Every time I tense up against the intrusion, I tell myself the same thing: this is Jamie. It’s okay. And then I’m able to relax. Jamie’s taking it slowly. He reads me in the way a talented goalie would. He’s firm and gentle in this as in all other things. Fuck. I love him so much.

You're one of those people who plans a lot of activities on vacation, instead of lying on the beach and taking it easy like everyone else, aren't you?" "I can lie around and relax at home. A vacation is a chance for doing.

Feeling unmotivated or depressed doesn’t make you less of a person than you were a few days or weeks ago when you were happy and enthusiastic. Give yourself a break. Take it easy. Release the pressure and allow yourself to relax for a while.

I was falling in love. “What would I have to do to lose you?” I asked. As I said these words I turned to look at her out of the corner of my eyes, the drink in her right hand already halfway to her mouth as she was moving to take a sip of it. How graceful her hand moved, never hitching, never hesitating, just fluently gliding as it would have if a question like that had never been asked. The drink reached her lips, and she took a nice, easy sip, her eyes staying with the sunset. Then, she took a relaxed, satisfied swallow, and slowly lowered the glass back down to its wet ring resting place on the wooden arm of her chair. “Oh, that’s easy,” she said as she turned her head to me. My heart raced. Her eyes found mine and settled. “Change,” she said.

So my new, simple, and regular life began. I got up before five a.m. and went to bed before ten p.m. People are at their best at different times of day, but I’m definitely a morning person. That’s when I can focus and finish up important work I have to do. Afterward I work out or do other errands that don’t take much concentration. At the end of the day I relax and don’t do any more work. I read, listen to music, take it easy, and try to go to bed early. This is the pattern I’ve mostly followed up till today.

You could pretend that Guenever was a sort of man-eating lioncelle herself, or that she was one of those selfish women who insist on ruling everywhere. In fact, this is what she did seem to be to a superficial inspection. She was beautiful, sanguine, hot-tempered, demanding, impulsive, acquisitive, charming - she had all the proper qualities for a man-eater. But the rock on which these easy explanations founder, is that she was not promiscuous. There was never anybody in her life except Lancelot and Arthur. She never ate anybody except these. And even these she did not eat in the full sense of the word. People who have been digested by a man-eating lioncelle tend to become nonentities - to live no life except within the vitals of the devourer. Yet both Arthur and Lancelot, the people whom she apparently devoured, lived full lives, and accomplished things of their own. She lived in warlike times, when the lives of young people were as short as those of airmen in the twentieth century. In such times, the elderly moralists are content to relax their moral laws a little, in return for being defended. The condemned pilots, with their lust for life and love which is probably to be lost so soon, touch the hearts of young women, or possibly call up an answering bravado. Generosity, courage, honesty, pity, the faculty to look short life in the face - certainly comradeship and tenderness - these qualities may explain why Guenever took Lancelot as well as Arthur. It was courage more than anything else - the courage to take and give from the heart, while there was time. Poets are always urging women to have this kind of courage. She gathered her rose-buds while she might, and the striking thing was that she only gathered two of them, which she kept always, and that those two were the best.

A lot of men think they are doing women a favour by asking for her hand in marriage, but lets think about this : She changes her name, changes her home, leaves her family, moves in with you, builds a home with you, gets pregnant for you, pregnancy changes her body, she gets fat, almost gives up in the labour room due to the unbearable pains of child birth, even the kids she delivers bear your name. .. Till the day she dies... Everything she does, (cooking, cleaning your house, taking care of your parents, bringing up your children, earning, advising you, ensuring you can be relaxed, maintaining all family relations, everything that benefit you..... Sometimes at the cost of her own health, hobbies and beauty. .. So who is really doing whom a favor? Dear men appreciate the women in your lives always, because it is not easy to be a woman. *Being a woman is priceless *

Sometimes I sets and thinks, and sometimes I just sets.” The former is easy enough, and is what even an accomplished loafer has to go through before he reaches the latter and more blissful state. It takes years of practice to relax sufficiently to be able to “just set.” I’d learned it years ago. But

You have a lot of time, you don’t need to be in a hurry.” That’s what the deans said, when you tried to take five classes. Easy for them: they were already deans. Either that was something they wanted to be doing, in which case they could afford to relax; or it wasn’t what they had wanted to be doing, and now they were invested in preventing anyone else from accomplishing anything, either.

Muscles really are like animals, and they want to take it easy as possible; if pressure isn't applied to them, they relax and cancel out the memory of all that work. Input this canceled memory once again, and you have to repeat the whole journey from the beginning. Naturally it's impossible to take a break sometimes, but in a critical time like this, when I'm training for a race, I have to show my muscles who's boss.

I am in control of myself in every way—at all times and in all situations. Each time I sit down to eat, I reaffirm my determination to achieve my goal. By eating right, and never giving in, I am reaching the weight I want. Whether eating in or eating out, I really enjoy eating less. I never feel the need to finish the food in front of me. I eat only what I should—and never one bite more. One way to weight-loss that’s easy and works, is less food on my plate, and less on my fork! By ordering less when I eat out, and by serving myself smaller portions at home, I keep myself aware of the importance of staying with my goal—each and every day. “Less on my plate means less on my waist.” When I sit down to eat, at no time do I allow anyone else to influence, tempt, or discourage me in any negative way. What I eat, and the goals I reach, is up to me. And I give no one the right to hinder or control my success. Although others may benefit from my success, I am achieving my weight-loss goals for my own personal reasons—for myself, my life, my future, and my own personal well-being. I am never, at any time, tempted to take one bite more than I should. I am strong, I am capable of reaching my goal, and I am doing it! Being in situations which put a lot of food in front of me is not a problem to me now. I simply say “No!” to the food and “Yes!” to my success. I enjoy sitting down to eat. Each time I do I conquer my past, and I create a trimmer, happier, more self-confident future in front of me. When I sit down to eat, I do not need someone else to remind me of my goal, or to keep me from eating something I should not. I take full responsibility for myself, and no one else has to do it for me. Controlling my weight, and my appetite, is easy for me now. I enjoy smaller portions, smaller bites, and a slower, healthier, more relaxed way of eating. I have set my goal and I am staying with it. I have turned mealtime into “achievement time.

Our muscles are very conscientious. As long as we observe the correct procedure, they won’t complain. If, however, the load halts for a few days, the muscles automatically assume they don’t have to work that hard anymore, and they lower their limits. Muscles really are like animals, and they want to take it as easy as possible; if pressure isn’t applied to them, they relax and cancel out the memory of all that work. Input this canceled memory once again, and you have to repeat the whole journey from the very beginning.

ESTABLISHING A DAILY MEDITATION First select a suitable space for your regular meditation. It can be wherever you can sit easily with minimal disturbance: a corner of your bedroom or any other quiet spot in your home. Place a meditation cushion or chair there for your use. Arrange what is around so that you are reminded of your meditative purpose, so that it feels like a sacred and peaceful space. You may wish to make a simple altar with a flower or sacred image, or place your favorite spiritual books there for a few moments of inspiring reading. Let yourself enjoy creating this space for yourself. Then select a regular time for practice that suits your schedule and temperament. If you are a morning person, experiment with a sitting before breakfast. If evening fits your temperament or schedule better, try that first. Begin with sitting ten or twenty minutes at a time. Later you can sit longer or more frequently. Daily meditation can become like bathing or toothbrushing. It can bring a regular cleansing and calming to your heart and mind. Find a posture on the chair or cushion in which you can easily sit erect without being rigid. Let your body be firmly planted on the earth, your hands resting easily, your heart soft, your eyes closed gently. At first feel your body and consciously soften any obvious tension. Let go of any habitual thoughts or plans. Bring your attention to feel the sensations of your breathing. Take a few deep breaths to sense where you can feel the breath most easily, as coolness or tingling in the nostrils or throat, as movement of the chest, or rise and fall of the belly. Then let your breath be natural. Feel the sensations of your natural breathing very carefully, relaxing into each breath as you feel it, noticing how the soft sensations of breathing come and go with the changing breath. After a few breaths your mind will probably wander. When you notice this, no matter how long or short a time you have been away, simply come back to the next breath. Before you return, you can mindfully acknowledge where you have gone with a soft word in the back of your mind, such as “thinking,” “wandering,” “hearing,” “itching.” After softly and silently naming to yourself where your attention has been, gently and directly return to feel the next breath. Later on in your meditation you will be able to work with the places your mind wanders to, but for initial training, one word of acknowledgment and a simple return to the breath is best. As you sit, let the breath change rhythms naturally, allowing it to be short, long, fast, slow, rough, or easy. Calm yourself by relaxing into the breath. When your breath becomes soft, let your attention become gentle and careful, as soft as the breath itself. Like training a puppy, gently bring yourself back a thousand times. Over weeks and months of this practice you will gradually learn to calm and center yourself using the breath. There will be many cycles in this process, stormy days alternating with clear days. Just stay with it. As you do, listening deeply, you will find the breath helping to connect and quiet your whole body and mind. Working with the breath is an excellent foundation for the other meditations presented in this book. After developing some calm and skills, and connecting with your breath, you can then extend your range of meditation to include healing and awareness of all the levels of your body and mind. You will discover how awareness of your breath can serve as a steady basis for all you do.

Here are my simple rules for identifying market tops and bottoms: 1. Market tops are relatively easy to recognize. Buyers generally become overconfident and almost always believe “this time is different.” It’s usually not. 2. There’s always a surplus of relatively cheap debt capital to finance acquisitions and investments in a hot market. In some cases, lenders won’t even charge cash interest, and they often relax or suspend typical loan restrictions as well. Leverage levels escalate compared to historical averages, with borrowing sometimes reaching as high as ten times or more compared to equity. Buyers will start accepting overoptimistic accounting adjustments and financial forecasts to justify taking on high levels of debt. Unfortunately most of these forecasts tend not to materialize once the economy starts decelerating or declining. 3. Another indicator that a market is peaking is the number of people you know who start getting rich. The number of investors claiming outperformance grows with the market. Loose credit conditions and a rising tide can make it easy for individuals without any particular strategy or process to make money “accidentally.” But making money in strong markets can be short-lived. Smart investors perform well through a combination of self-discipline and sound risk assessment, even when market conditions reverse.

With that in mind, I pull the door shut and look for a seat belt to buckle. I find only the frayed end of a seat belt and a broken buckle. “Where did you find this piece of junk?” says Christina. “I stole it from the factionless. They fix them up. It wasn’t easy to get it to start. Better ditch those jackets, girls.” I ball up our jackets and toss them out the half-open window. Marcus shifts the truck into drive, and it groans. I half expect it to stay still when he presses the gas pedal, but it moves. From what I remember, it takes about an hour to drive from the Abnegation sector to Amity headquarters, and the trip requires a skilled driver. Marcus pulls onto one of the main thoroughfares and pushes his foot into the gas pedal. We lurch forward, narrowly avoiding a gaping hole in the road. I grab the dashboard to steady myself. “Relax, Beatrice,” says Marcus. “I’ve driven a car before.” “I’ve done a lot of things before, but that doesn’t mean I’m any good at them!” Marcus smiles and jerks the truck to the left so that we don’t hit a fallen stoplight. Christina whoops as we bump over another piece of debris, like she’s having the time of her life. “A different kind of stupid, right?” she says, her voice loud enough to be heard over the rush of wind through the cab. I clutch the seat beneath me and try not to think of what I ate for dinner.

When I first said, “the world is your oyster,” it sounded pretty good, right? Like all these gorgeous pearls would just be coming your way and you’d be living on so-called easy street. But the saga of the oyster and the pearl is more complicated than it first appears. The pearl only happens when sand gets inside an oyster and irritates it. The world is my oyster? Full of irritation? What kind of blessing is that? It’s not my fault, Princess. I know. You’d like to just la-di-da through life, easy does it, instead of being stuck with a sandy oyster [laughs]. If I give you Billy’s prescription for making pearls, would you like that? Yes, I know, the irritation doesn’t feel good, but without it there would be no pearl. Don’t focus too much on the irritation. Try to relax about the sand. If you deal with the sand creatively, you’ll have a gorgeous treasure. To be a pearl maker, your oyster needs a good strong shell to protect you from a hundred million irritants in your environment. Your shell helps you tell one grain of sand from the other. You know which one can become a pearl and which one isn’t worth the irritation. If you become a really smart oyster, with a good shell, you can live life with more abandon because you don’t have to worry so much about the sand. “Oh, there’s that sand again. This always happens when I take a big bite out of the ocean. I’ll spit most of it out and won’t be too concerned about the rest.” And

Rach-Uh, my mom says they'll help me blend in better. She says the color would just draw attention to me." Emma snorts. "Oh, she's definitely right. Blue eyes make you look so much more average. In fact, I almost didn't notice you standing there." "That hurts my feelings, Emma." He grins. She giggles. He says, "I'd consider forgiving you-if you come with me to the beach." She sighs. "I can't go with you, Galen." He runs a hand through his hair. "Honestly, Emma, I don't know how much more rejection I can take," he blurts out. In fact, he doesn't remember ever being rejected, except by Emma. Of course, that could be due to the fact that he's a Royal. Or maybe it's because he doesn't spend a lot of time with his kind anyway, let alone the females. Actually, he doesn't spend a lot of time with anyone except Rachel. And Rachel would give him her beating heart if he asked for it. "I'm sorry. It's not about you this time. Well, actually, it kind of is. My mom...well, she thinks we're dating." Her cheeks-and those lips-deepen to red. "Dating?" What is dating again? He tries to remember what Rachel told him...She said it's easy to remember because it's almost the same as...what is the rhyme for it? And then he remembers. "It's easy to remember, because dating rhymes with mating, and they're almost the same," she'd said. He blinks at Emma. "You're mom thinks we're ma-Uh, dating?" She nods biting her lip. For reasons he can't explain, this pleases him. He leans against the passenger door of her car. "Oh. Well. What does it matter if she thinks that?" "I told her we weren't dating, though. Just this morning. Going to the beach with you makes me look like a liar." He scratches the back of his neck. "I don't understand. If you told her we weren't dating, then why does she think we are?" She relaxes against his driver-side door. "Well, this is all actually your fault, not mine." "I'm obviously not asking the right questions-" "The way you acted toward me when I hit my head, Galen. Some people saw that. And they told my mom. She thinks I've been hiding you from her, keeping you a secret. Because she thinks we've been...we've been..." "Dating?" he offers. He can't understand why she'd have a difficult time discussing dating, if it means what he thinks it does-spending time with one human more than others to see if he or she would be a good mate. The Syrena do the same, only they call it sifting-and sifting doesn't take nearly as long as dating. A Syrena can sift out a mate within a few days. He'd laughed when Rachel said some humans date for years. So indecisive. Then an echo of Toraf's voice whispers to him, calling him a hypocrite. You're twenty years old. Why haven't you sifted for a mate? But that doesn't make him indecisive. He just hasn't had time to sift and keep his responsibility watching the humans. If it weren't for that, he'd already be settled down. How can Toraf think Emma's the reason he hasn't sifted yet? Up until three weeks ago, he didn't even know she existed.

Every idea in this book runs against our natural tendency to want to relax, take it easy, reward ourselves for decades of work and childrearing. Our default mode at midlife is entropy. The default is not destiny, and on this, the research is unequivocal: for every fork in the road, you are almost invariably better off making the harder choice. Harder in the moment, that is, but easier over the years, as your body and mind remain strong. By resisting entropy, but pushing through the inertia the beckons us to rest a little longer, to slow down just a notch, until your life has narrowed to a pinprick – by resisting those forces, you dramatically up the odds that your life will be rich to your final breath, deeply entwined with family and friends, engaged in intellectual pursuits, and infused with a purpose that extends beyond yourself. Yes, it's hard. Yes, it's worth it.

In mindfulness meditation, the self that needs protection is put into neutral. The observing self slips into the space between the ego and the dissociated aspects of the personality and observes from there. The breath, or sound, becomes the central object of focus, as opposed to thought. Thinking becomes one more thing to observe in the field of awareness but is robbed of its preeminent position. Do not grasp after the pleasant or push away the unpleasant, but give equal attention to everything there is to observe, taught the Buddha. This is difficult at first but becomes remarkably easy once one gets the hang of it. One learns first to bring one’s attention to the neutral object and then to relax into a state of choiceless awareness rather than always trying to maintain control. As the ego’s position is weakened, waking life takes on aspects of dream life to the extent that new surprises keep unexpectedly emerging.

Our relationship quickly grew. I was living in Long Beach at the time; Chris was in San Diego. Conservatively speaking, that’s a two-hour drive. But Chris drove it often. He’d get off work, hop in his pickup, and be at my condo before dark. And not just on the weekends: he often rose before the sun to get to work in Coronado Beach. We’d go out to eat, maybe take in a movie, play miniature golf, bowl, see friends--the usual date stuff. But our most fun was just hanging out together. I pinned a picture of Chris up near my desk. (It’s the profile picture on his Facebook page, if you’re interested.) Under it, I taped a quote that went along the lines of: Life is not about the number of breaths you take; it’s the moments that take your breath away. Chris was all about those breathtaking moments--riding broncs in the rodeo, jumping out of planes. He worked hard and played hard--but was just as likely to relax completely, sitting comfortably on the couch with a beer or whatever as he took it easy. It was a paradox; I loved both sides.

probably could, but they fight dirty.” “Not as dirty as my brother fights,” Jhahnahkan stopped and thought real hard for a moment, “I remember! I remember I have a brother!” he exclaimed, “But that is all I remember, and that I took him in a fight recently, It is just a blur...” “Take it easy there mister. You don’t need to get another blow to yer head,” Rex said with a reassuring voice, “If ya are startin’ ta remember things, just sit here and relax for a spell while we wait for Katie to get here.” “I know you are right, but I do not like to see them acting this way. I will deal with them soon.” The two brothers noticed Jhahnahkan looking their way, “Hey! Whatta you lookin’ at?” Chuck yelled across the bar, “Didn’t ya take notice we don’ take kindly to bein’ stared at?” Rex pulled Jhahnahkan close to his mouth, and he whispered, “Now ya done it. We’re in big trouble now.” “Relax Rex, it will be fine,” Jhahnahkan motioned with his hand as he got up and walked over to the Russell brothers. “Yeah, you better come over here so we can whip ya ass all over the floor,” Tim said as he set his pool cue down. Jhahnahkan said no words

With our desire to have more, we find ourselves spending more and more time and energy to manage and maintain everything we have. We try so hard to do this that the things that were supposed to help us end up ruling us. We eventually get used to the new state where our wishes have been fulfilled. We start taking those things for granted and there comes a time when we start getting tired of what we have. We're desperate to convey our own worth, our own value to others. We use objects to tell people just how valuable we are. The objects that are supposed to represent our qualities become our qualities themselves. There are more things to gain from eliminating excess than you might imagine: time, space, freedom and energy. When people say something is impossible, they have already decided that they don't want to do it. Differentiate between things you want and things you need. Leave your unused space empty. These open areas are incredibly useful. They bring us a sense of freedom and keep our minds open to the more important things in life. Memories are wonderful but you won't have room to develop if your attachment to the past is too strong. It's better to cut some of those ties so you can focus on what's important today. Don't get creative when you are trying to discard things. There's no need to stock up. An item chosen with passion represents perfection to us. Things we just happen to pick up, however, are easy candidates for disposal or replacement. As long as we stick to owning things that we really love, we aren't likely to want more. Our homes aren't museum, they don't need collections. When you aren't sure that you really want to part with something, try stowing it away for a while. Larger furniture items with bold colors will in time trigger visual fatigue and then boredom. Discarding things can be wasteful. But the guilt that keeps you from minimizing is the true waste. The real waste is the psychological damage that you accrue from hanging on to things you don't use or need. We find our originality when we own less. When you think about it, it's experience that builds our unique characteristics, not material objects. I've lowered my bar for happiness simply by switching to a tenugui. When even a regular bath towel can make you happy, you'll be able to find happiness almost everywhere. For the minimalist, the objective isn't to reduce, it's to eliminate distractions so they can focus on the things that are truly important. Minimalism is just the beginning. It's a tool. Once you've gone ahead and minimized, it's time to find out what those important things are. Minimalism is built around the idea that there's nothing that you're lacking. You'll spend less time being pushed around by something that you think may be missing. The qualities I look for in the things that I buy are: - the item has a minimalistic kind of shape and is easy to clean - it's color isn't too loud - I'll be able to use it for a long time - it has a simple structure - it's lightweight and compact - it has multiple uses A relaxed moment is not without meaning, it's an important time for reflection. It wasn't the fallen leaves that the lady had been tidying up, it was her own laziness that she had been sweeping away. We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act but a habit. With daily cleaning, the reward may be the sense of accomplishment and calmness we feel afterward. Cleaning your house is like polishing yourself. Simply by living an organized life, you'll be more invigorated, more confident and like yourself better. Having parted with the bulk of my belongings, I feel true contentment with my day-to-day life. The very act of living brings me joy. When you become a minimalist, you free yourself from all the materialist messages that surround us. All the creative marketing and annoying ads no longer have an effect on you.

Taking the catcher’s place, he sank to his haunches and gestured to Arthur. “Throw some easy ones to begin with,” he called, and Arthur nodded, seeming to lose his apprehensiveness. “Yes, milord!” Arthur wound up and released a relaxed, straight pitch. Squinting in determination, Lilian gripped the bat hard, stepped into the swing, and turned her hips to lend more impetus to the motion. To her disgust, she missed the ball completely. Turning around, she gave Westcliff a pointed glance. “Well, your advice certainly helped,” she muttered sarcastically. “Elbows,” came his succinct reminder, and he tossed the ball to Arthur. “Try again.” Heaving a sigh, Lillian raised the bat and faced the pitcher once more. Arthur drew his arm back, and lunged forward as he delivered another fast ball. Lillian brought the bat around with a grunt of effort, finding an unexpected ease in adjusting the swing to just the right angle, and she received a jolt of visceral delight as she felt the solid connection between the bat and the leather ball. With a loud crack the ball was catapulted high into the air, over Arthur’s head, beyond the reach of those in the back field. Shrieking in triumph, Lillian dropped the bat and ran headlong toward the first sanctuary post, rounding it and heading toward second. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Daisy hurtling across the field to scoop up the ball, and in nearly the same motion, throwing it to the nearest boy. Increasing her pace, her feet flying beneath her skirts, Lillian rounded third, while the ball was tossed to Arthur. Before her disbelieving eyes, she saw Westcliff standing at the last post, Castle Rock, with his hands held up in readiness to catch the ball. How could he? After showing her how to hit the ball, he was now going to tag her out? “Get out of my way!” Lillian shouted, running pellmell toward the post, determined to reach it before he caught the ball. “I’m not going to stop!” “Oh, I’ll stop you,” Westcliff assured her with a grin, standing right in front of the post. He called to the pitcher. “Throw it home, Arthur!” She would go through him, if necessary. Letting out a warlike cry, Lillian slammed full-length into him, causing him to stagger backward just as his fingers closed over the ball. Though he could have fought for balance, he chose not to, collapsing backward onto the soft earth with Lillian tumbling on top of him, burying him in a heap of skirts and wayward limbs. A cloud of fine beige dust enveloped them upon their descent. Lillian lifted herself on his chest and glared down at him. At first she thought that he had been winded, but it immediately became apparent that he was choking with laughter. “You cheated!” she accused, which only seemed to make him laugh harder. She struggled for breath, drawing in huge lungfuls of air. “You’re not supposed…to stand in front…of the post…you dirty cheater!” Gasping and snorting, Westcliff handed her the ball with the ginger reverence of someone yielding a priceless artifact to a museum curator. Lillian took the ball and hurled it aside. “I was not out,” she told him, jabbing her finger into his hard chest for emphasis. It felt as if she were poking a hearthstone. “I was safe, do you…hear me?” She heard Arthur’s amused voice as he approached them. “Actually, miss—” “Never argue with a lady, Arthur,” the earl interrupted, having managed to regain his powers of speech, and the boy grinned at him. “Yes, milord.” “Are there ladies here?” Daisy asked cheerfully, coming from the field. “I don’t see any.” Still smiling, the earl looked up at Lillian.

From the moment she had stepped out from her wooden walls, the path ahead of him had been clearly marked, but he had been too blind to see it. A tosi woman and a Comanche, their pasts stained with tears and bloodshed, had little hope of coexisting happily with either race. To be as one, they had to walk alone, away from both their people. Where, that was the question. And Hunter had no answers. West, as the prophecy foretold? Into the great mountain ranges? The thought frightened him. He had been raised in open spaces, able to see into tomorrow, with the north wind whispering, the grass waving, the buffalo plentiful. What would he hunt? And how? He wouldn’t know what roots and nuts to gather. He wouldn’t know which plants made good medicine, which bad. Did he dare take a woman into an unknown land, uncertain if he could feed her, care for her, or protect her? What if she came with child? Winter, the time when babies cried. How would he stand tall like a man if his family starved? Hunter opened his eyes and sat up, raking his fingers through his damp hair. Looking skyward, he searched for Loretta’s Great One, the Almighty Father to whom she gave thanks for her food. At first he had been disgruntled by her prayers. Her God didn’t bring her the food; her husband did. Loretta had explained that her God led Hunter’s footsteps so his hunts were successful. Was her God up there in the sky, as she believed? Did he truly hear a man’s whispers, his thoughts? Hunter could see his own gods, Mother Earth, Mother Moon, Father Sun, the wind coming from the four directions. It was easy to believe in what he could see. Why did Loretta’s God hide himself? Was he terrible ugly? Did he hide only from Comanches? Loretta said he was father to all, even Indians. Peace filled Hunter. With so many Great Ones, both his and hers, surely they would be blessed. Relaxing his body, he surrendered himself to fate. The Great Ones would guide them. Loretta’s God would lead his footsteps in the hunt when his own gods failed him. Together he and Loretta would find a new place where the Comanche and tosi tivo could live as one, where Hunter could sing the songs of the People and keep their ways alive. Rising, Hunter turned back toward the village, his decision made, his heart torn, acutely aware that the prophecy had foretold this moment long ago.

So it needs saying from the outset that it’s always very easy to declare that other people are idiots, but only if you forget how idiotically difficult being human is. Especially if you have other people you’re trying to be a reasonably good human being for. Because there’s such an unbelievable amount that we’re all supposed to be able to cope with these days. You’re supposed to have a job, and somewhere to live, and a family, and you’re supposed to pay taxes and have clean underwear and remember the password to your damn Wi-Fi. Some of us never manage to get the chaos under control, so our lives simply carry on, the world spinning through space at two million miles an hour while we bounce about on its surface like so many lost socks. Our hearts are bars of soap that we keep losing hold of; the moment we relax, they drift off and fall in love and get broken, all in the wink of an eye. We’re not in control. So we learn to pretend, all the time, about our jobs and our marriages and our children and everything else. We pretend we’re normal, that we’re reasonably well educated, that we understand “amortization levels” and “inflation rates.” That we know how sex works. In truth, we know as much about sex as we do about USB leads, and it always takes us four tries to get those little buggers in. (Wrong way round, wrong way round, wrong way round, there! In!) We pretend to be good parents when all we really do is provide our kids with food and clothing and tell them off when they put chewing gum they find on the ground in their mouths. We tried keeping tropical fish once and they all died. And we really don’t know more about children than tropical fish, so the responsibility frightens the life out of us each morning. We don’t have a plan, we just do our best to get through the day, because there’ll be another one coming along tomorrow. Sometimes it hurts, it really hurts, for no other reason than the fact that our skin doesn’t feel like it’s ours. Sometimes we panic, because the bills need paying and we have to be grown-up and we don’t know how, because it’s so horribly, desperately easy to fail at being grown-up. Because everyone loves someone, and anyone who loves someone has had those desperate nights where we lie awake trying to figure out how we can afford to carry on being human beings. Sometimes that makes us do things that seem ridiculous in hindsight, but which felt like the only way out at the time.

Cannabinoids relax the rules of cortical crowd control, but 300 micrograms of d-lysergic acid diethylamide break them completely. This is a clean sweep. This is the Renaissance after the Dark Ages. Dopamine—the fuel of desire—is only one of four major neuro modulators. Each of the neuromodulators fuels brain operations in its own particular way. But all four of them share two properties. First, they get released and used up all over the brain, not at specific locales. Second, each is produced by one specialized organ, a brain part designed to manufacture that one potent chemical (see Figure 3). Instead of watering the flowers one by one, neuromodulator release is like a sprinkler system. That’s why neuromodulators initiate changes that are global, not local. Dopamine fuels attraction, focus, approach, and especially wanting and doing. Norepinephrine fuels perceptual alertness, arousal, excitement, and attention to sensory detail. Acetylcholine energizes all mental operations, consciousness, and thought itself. But the final neuromodulator, serotonin, is more complicated in its action. Serotonin does a lot of different things in a lot of different places, because there are many kinds of serotonin receptors, and they inhabit a great variety of neural nooks, staking out an intricate network. One of serotonin’s most important jobs is to regulate information flow throughout the brain by inhibiting the firing of neurons in many places. And it’s the serotonin system that gets dynamited by LSD. Serotonin dampens, it paces, it soothes. It raises the threshold of neurons to the voltage changes induced by glutamate. Remember glutamate? That’s the main excitatory neurotransmitter that carries information from synapse to synapse throughout the brain. Serotonin cools this excitation, putting off the next axonal burst, making the receptive neuron less sensitive to the messages it receives from other neurons. Slow down! Take it easy! Don’t get carried away by every little molecule of glutamate. Serotonin soothes neurons that might otherwise fire too often, too quickly. If you want to know how it feels to get a serotonin boost, ask a depressive several days into antidepressant therapy. Paxil, Zoloft, Prozac, and all their cousins leave more serotonin in the synapses, hanging around, waiting to help out when the brain becomes too active. Which is most of the time if you feel the world is dark and threatening. Extra serotonin makes the thinking process more relaxed—a nice change for depressives, who get a chance to wallow in relative normality.

Almost no one—not even the police officers who deal with it every day, not even most psychiatrists—publicly connects marijuana and crime. We all know alcohol causes violence, but somehow, we have grown to believe that marijuana does not, that centuries of experience were a myth. As a pediatrician wrote in a 2015 piece for the New York Times in which he argued that marijuana was safer for his teenage children than alcohol: “People who are high are not committing violence.” But they are. Almost unnoticed, the studies have piled up. On murderers in Pittsburgh, on psychiatric patients in Italy, on tourists in Spain, on emergency room patients in Michigan. Most weren’t even designed to look for a connection between marijuana and violence, because no one thought one existed. Yet they found it. In many cases, they have even found marijuana’s tendency to cause violence is greater than that of alcohol. A 2018 study of people with psychosis in Switzerland found that almost half of cannabis users became violent over a three-year period; their risk of violence was four times that of psychotic people who didn’t use. (Alcohol didn’t seem to increase violence in this group at all.) The effect is not confined to people with preexisting psychosis. A 2012 study of 12,000 high school students across the United States showed that those who used cannabis were more than three times as likely to become violent as those who didn’t, surpassing the risk of alcohol use. Even worse, studies of children who have died from abuse and neglect consistently show that the adults responsible for their deaths use marijuana far more frequently than alcohol or other drugs—and far, far more than the general population. Marijuana does not necessarily cause all those crimes, but the link is striking and large. We shouldn’t be surprised. The violence that drinking causes is largely predictable. Alcohol intoxicates. It disinhibits users. It escalates conflict. It turns arguments into fights, fights into assaults, assaults into murders. Marijuana is an intoxicant that can disinhibit users, too. And though it sends many people into a relaxed haze, it also frequently causes paranoia and psychosis. Sometimes those are short-term episodes in healthy people. Sometimes they are months-long spirals in people with schizophrenia or bipolar disorder. And paranoia and psychosis cause violence. The psychiatrists who treated Raina Thaiday spoke of the terror she suffered, and they weren’t exaggerating. Imagine voices no one else can hear screaming at you. Imagine fearing your food is poisoned or aliens have put a chip in your brain. When that terror becomes too much, some people with psychosis snap. But when they break, they don’t escalate in predictable ways. They take hammers to their families. They decide their friends are devils and shoot them. They push strangers in front of trains. The homeless man mumbling about God frightens us because we don’t have to be experts on mental illness and violence to know instinctively that untreated psychosis is dangerous. And finding violence and homicides connected to marijuana is all too easy.

It’s not all about hitting. There’s an art to it. A talent. You need power but also smarts. When to hit and where. You have to outthink your opponent. It’s not all about size. Determination and experience play a part.” “Like in business,” she said. “The skill set translates.” She wrinkled her nose. “Doesn’t it hurt when you get hit?” “Some. But boxing is what I knew. Without it, I would have just been some kid on the streets.” “You’re saying hitting people kept you from being bad?” “Something like that. Put down your glass.” She set it on the desk. He did the same, then stepped in front of her. “Hit me,” he said. She tucked both hands behind her back. “I couldn’t.” The amusement was back. “Do you actually think you can hurt me?” She eyed his broad chest. “Probably not. And I might hurt myself.” He shrugged out of his suit jacket, then unfastened his tie. In one of those easy, sexy gestures, he pulled it free of his collar and tossed it over a chair. “Raise your hands and make a fist,” he said. “Thumbs out.” Feeling a little foolish, she did as he requested. He stood in front of her again, this time angled, his left side toward her. “Hit me,” he said. “Put your weight behind it. You can’t hurt me.” “Are you challenging me?” He grinned. “Think you can take me?” Not on her best day, but she was willing to make the effort. She punched him in the arm. Not hard, but not lightly. He frowned. “Anytime now.” “Funny.” “Try again. This time hit me like you mean it or I’ll call you a girl.” “I am a girl.” She punched harder this time and felt the impact back to her shoulder. Duncan didn’t even blink. “Maybe I’d do better at tennis,” she murmured. “It’s all about knowing what to do.” He moved behind her and put his hands on her shoulders. “You want to bend your knees and keep your chin down. As you start the punch, think about a corkscrew.” He demonstrated in slow motion. “That will give you power,” he said. “It’s a jab. A good jab can make a boxer’s career. Lean into the punch.” She was sure his words were making sense, but it was difficult to think with him standing so close. She was aware of his body just inches from hers, of the strength and heat he radiated. The need to simply relax into his arms was powerful. Still, she did her best to pay attention, and when he stepped in front of her again so she could demonstrate, she did her best to remember what he’d said. This time, she felt the impact all the way up her arm. There was a jarring sensation, but also the knowledge that she’d hit a lot harder. “Did I bruise you?” she asked, almost hoping he would say yes, or at least rub his arm. “No, but that was better. Did you feel the difference?” “Yes, but I still wouldn’t want to be a boxer.” “Probably for the best. You’d get your nose broken.” She dropped her arms to her sides. “I wouldn’t want that.” She leaned closer. “Have you had your nose broken?” “A couple of times.” She peered at his handsome face. “I can’t tell.” “I was lucky.” She put her hand on his chin to turn his head. He looked away, giving her a view of his profile. There was a small bump on his nose. Nothing she would have noticed. “You couldn’t just play tennis?” she asked. He laughed, then captured her hand in his and faced her. They were standing close together, his fingers rubbing hers. She shivered slightly, but not from cold. His eyes darkened as he seemed to loom over her. His gaze dropped to her mouth. He swallowed. “Annie.” The word was more breath than sound. She heard the wanting in his voice and felt an answering hunger burning inside her. There were a thousand reasons she should run and not a single reason to stay. She knew that she was the one at risk, knew that he wasn’t looking for anything permanent. But the temptation was too great. Being around Duncan was the best part of her day.

Sweden’s capital is an expansive and peaceful place for solo travellers. It is made up of 14 islands, connected by 50 bridges all within Lake Mälaren which flows out into to the Baltic Sea. Several main districts encompass islands and are connected by Stockholm’s bridges. Norrmalm is the main business area and includes the train station, hotels, theatres and shopping. Őstermalm is more upmarket and has wide spaces that includes forest. Kungsholmen is a relaxed neighbourhood on an island on the west of the city. It has a good natural beach and is popular with bathers. In addition to the city of 14 islands, the Stockholm Archipelago is made up of 24,000 islands spread through with small towns, old forts and an occasional resort. Ekero, to the east of the city, is the only Swedish area to have two UNESCO World Heritage sites – the royal palace of Drottningholm, and the Viking village of Birka. Stockholm probably grew from origins as a place of safety – with so many islands it allowed early people to isolate themselves from invaders. The earliest fort on any of the islands stretches back to the 13th century. Today the city has architecture dating from that time. In addition, it didn’t suffer the bombing raids that beset other European cities, and much of the old architecture is untouched. Getting around the city is relatively easy by metro and bus. There are also pay‐as‐you‐go Stockholm City Bikes. The metro and buses travel out to most of the islands, but there are also hop on, hop off boat tours. It is well worth taking a trip through the broad and spacious archipelago, which stretches 80 kms out from the city. Please note that taxis are expensive and, to make matters worse, the taxi industry has been deregulated leading to visitors unwittingly paying extortionate rates. A yellow sticker on the back window of each car will tell you the maximum price that the driver will charge therefore, if you have a choice of taxis, choose

This verse just came to my mind yesterday while sitting in the train... ‘Pursue … overtake … and … recover all.’ 1 Samuel 30:8 When King David and his men returned home from battle, they discovered that the Amalekites had burned their homes to the ground and taken their families prisoner. They were devastated. They wept until they’d no tears left. Then God spoke to them and said, ‘Pursue … overtake … and … recover all.’ And with His help they did! So no matter how bad your situation looks right now, don’t give up. Cry if you have to, then dry your tears and go out in God’s strength and take back what the Enemy has stolen from you. If necessary, take it an inch at a time, drawing on His strength and not your own. Paul writes: ‘Let us not lose heart and grow weary and faint in acting nobly and doing right, for in due time and at the appointed season we shall reap, if we do not loosen and relax our courage and faint’ (Galatians 6:9 AMP Classic Edition). God won’t quit on you, so don’t quit on Him! He has promised in His Word: ‘When you pass through the waters, I will be with you; and when you pass through the rivers, they will not sweep over you. When you walk through the fire, you will not be burned; the flames will not set you ablaze. For I am the LORD your God’ (Isaiah 43:2-3 NIV 2011 Edition). Don’t give up - go through! It’s easy to quit, but it takes faith to go through. When your faith honours God, He honours your faith! And with Him on your side you’ll come out stronger than you were when you went in. So the word for you today is: ‘Pursue … overtake … and … recover all.

was sick of people in the program quoting the principles of the Big Book. I wanted to scream when I heard, “But for the grace of God.” What fucking grace had God given me? And don’t get me started on the gratitude list. I had no gratitude. The distress and loneliness made me again consider ending my life. I thought the program was a trick to psychologically prevent me from slicing my wrists. Quotations like “Easy does it,” “This shall too pass,” “Thanks for sharing,” “Keep coming back,” did nothing for me but induce intestinal illness. Holding hands and watching people go out of their way to do anything and everything for me made me extremely uncomfortable. I loathed the closeness and companionship of the people who were working hard for my benefit. The disgrace of not having my own form of transportation, career, dignity, and independence made me resent everything this horrible existence had to offer. I held these feelings inside and operated like a robot going through the motions of living. I contemplated how to extinguish my mental anguish. Death is what first came to mind. I'd fantasize driving at a hundred miles an hour into a tree, taking a full bottle of Valium or Trazadone, or, better yet, taking a full bottle of both drugs and then doing it. But something inside woke me up, convincing me there was a certain merit, some reason worth living for on this miserable planet. From there, my determination and drive to attain dignity and independence kicked in. I wanted to believe there truly was a good person inside. I wanted to find him. Insidious images of relaxation flashed through my mind like bright pictures. It was as though all my tension was being released after inhaling a fat line of cocaine while watching porn. The excitement of reliving the act seemed so real that my heart palpitated erratically. I'd get furious with myself for even thinking about going back to that sinister part of my life. When I returned to the Oxford House after the retreat, I was introduced to a local priest who was in the fellowship for treatment. When I first found out he was a priest, I couldn’t stand the sight of him. It disgusted me that people gave him respect because he was a man of the cloth. The fellow addicts thought it was cool they had one of God’s errant angels among them confessing his sins of addictions. Little

How’s the patient? I know you said she’s asleep, but I need to see how she’s healing. Would now be all right?” “Of course.” Thomas motioned for Nathaniel to lead the way. “She’s improving all the time, I’m happy to say.” Nathaniel let out a slight chuckle. “I bet you are happy.” “What do you mean by that?” Thomas protested, grabbing his arm and stopping him mid-stride on the stairs. “Nothing.” Nathaniel painted a look of bewilderment on his face. “But, I’ve been meaning to ask you, how would you feel about me, say, taking her around town once she’s feeling up to it?” A sudden fire burned inside Thomas. The muscles in his face began to twitch as he shot Nathaniel a glowering look. How dare his friend make such a comment? Nathaniel tried to suppress a large grin. “That’s what I thought.” He laughed under his breath. Thomas relaxed a bit and attempted a small grin of his own as his pulse cooled. “You’re asking for trouble.” Nathaniel slapped him on the back with a loud smack, then whispered into his face. “It’s too easy to ruffle your feathers, Thomas.” His eyes lit with mischief. “Don’t worry, I know you saw her first.” If

Personal Questions As you move further into the realm of conversational intimacy, you may be tempted to ask a more personal question. Such questions entail risk that you will offend the other person. Ask them with extreme caution—especially on subjects such as financial matters, past relationships, and religion. If you feel you are developing a close rapport, you could broach a subject carefully by softening it with a qualifier such as: “Excuse me for asking, but . . .” “I don’t mean to get personal, but . . .” Don’t take it as a personal rejection should your interactive partner choose not to answer the question. Again, keep the conversation going. And if someone asks you a personal question that you don’t wish to answer, be prepared with an easy way to demur: “I’d rather not talk about that. But I was wondering . . .” Then use the techniques described in this chapter to change the subject gracefully. Being asked an overly personal question may embarrass you. Let your comfort level be your guide. If you do not wish to answer, that’s okay. The person probably meant no offense and was asking only out of genuine interest. Try to continue on in the conversation to see what else is there. If you find your anxiety level rising, use relaxation techniques to bring it under control.

I know you are feeling overworked and overwhelmed so please feel free to take a seat and relax and collect your thoughts and I will try to find some time to help you deal with your problem. In the meantime, if you do find something to do, please feel free to do so. My time is limited as is yours but I will try to find the time to discuss this stressful matter with you. But in consideration, tough shit; I’m busy if you haven’t noticed. Someone has got to get the work done while you’re sitting around on your fat, lazy, whining, unionized ass taking it easy. And sorry, I do not wish to have the time to sit around and bitch about how busy I am. I have too much to do and too many deadlines to have the time for that kind of bullshit. Thank you for your patience in this matter. Have a happy : ) , sincerely, The Office Staff.

Aeryn was confused. "On three," he said. "One, two, three." He let the scalpel slip from his fingers. As it fell, Aeryn did all she could to move her leg. She tried to tense the muscle, tried to pull away. When she felt the sting of the blade striking her skin, she knew she had failed. "At least now he’ll know that’s not me. No one would let themselves get stabbed," she thought. He sat across from Aeryn and shined a light in her eyes. He looked closely, then leaned back and removed the blade from her skin. He took out a suture kit and tied two small stitches. "I’m pleased to inform you that the transfer is complete," he said. "What?" Aeryn thought. "When will she be gone?" NIA asked. The doctor leaned back in his chair and ran his hands through his hair. As he did, Aeryn caught a glimpse of a flashing light behind his ear. She hadn’t known that he was augmented. "In time.  As your network continues to become stronger than hers, the mind will reject the old personality.  It took almost a year for the original Dr. Barnes to shut up. But luckily we now have a code that we can update you with to silence her." Aeryn felt panicked.  She wanted to claw her way out of her head, but she had no means to do so.  "I almost feel bad for her," NIA said.  "But she knew that she was handing over control of her body. She just didn’t realize it’d be permanent.  Maybe she didn’t care.  She gave me more and more control before she gave it completely. While she exercised, while she thought she was sleeping, while she was writing or relaxing. She was always retreating inside of herself. It was like she didn’t even want this body." "How is Aeryn 2.0 coming along?" "Copulation was easy at first.  With Aeryn’s loose instructions of ‘burn some calories’ I was able to take her body and use it for attempted reproduction.  So far, it has been a failure. The neglect of the body has made finding partners more difficult." Aeryn shuddered at the realization that the dreams weren’t dreams, they were repressed memories. "Well, you’d better start taking care of that body. It’s the only one you’ve got until you get it to reproduce.  I believe that it’ll be easier to appropriate a child’s mind, seeing as how their personalities are not fully formed yet." Aeryn felt sick at the idea.  As if stealing people’s bodies wasn’t enough, these artificial intelligences were going for immortality by passing themselves along to their host’s offspring. "I’m glad we’ve had another success," Dr. Barnes said. "And with such a quick turn around." "As I said, she was willing." Aeryn watched in disbelief as the two finished up.  She wondered how much time she had left and tried to imagine any situation that didn’t end in her death.  She couldn’t think of a way out.  She wanted to flinch as NIA shook the doctor’s hand, but couldn’t.  She loathed him for convincing her to get the technology, she hated NIA for tricking her, but mostly, she hated herself.  For as much as she didn’t want to admit it, her Assistant had a point. She had handed her life over to technology long before she received the implant. Now, she had lost herself to it.     *

So they went out for a walk. They went through narrow, lightless lanes, where houses that were silent but gave out smells of fish and boiled rice stood on either side of the road. There was not a single tree in sight; no breeze and no sound but the vaguely musical humming of mosquitoes. Once, an ancient taxi wheezed past, taking a short-cut through the lane into the main road, like a comic vintage car passing through a film-set showing the Twenties into the film-set of the present, passing from black and white into colour. But why did these houses – for instance, that one with the tall, ornate iron gates and a watchman dozing on a stool, which gave the impression that the family had valuables locked away inside, or that other one with the small porch and the painted door, which gave the impression that whenever there was a feast or a wedding all the relatives would be invited, and there would be so many relatives that some of them, probably the young men and women, would be sitting bunched together on the cramped porch because there would be no more space inside, talking eloquently about something that didn’t really require eloquence, laughing uproariously at a joke that wasn’t really very funny, or this next house with an old man relaxing in his easy-chair on the verandah, fanning himself with a local Sunday newspaper, or this small, shabby house with the girl Sandeep glimpsed through a window, sitting in a bare, ill-furnished room, memorising a text by candlelight, repeating suffixes and prefixes from a Bengali grammar over and over to herself – why did these houses seem to suggest that an infinitely interesting story might be woven around them? And yet the story would never be a satisfying one, because the writer, like Sandeep, would be too caught up in jotting down the irrelevances and digressions that make up lives, and the life of a city, rather than a good story – till the reader would shout "Come to the point!" – and there would be no point, except the girl memorising the rules of grammar, the old man in the easy-chair fanning himself, and the house with the small, empty porch which was crowded, paradoxically, with many memories and possibilities. The "real" story, with its beginning, middle and conclusion, would never be told, because it did not exist.

Meditation is an interesting practice. It is so simple that anyone can learn how to do it. You sit still, relax, concentrate, gently struggle with the mind, and create moments of peace. That’s it. I have revealed my trade secret. Of course there is a little more to it, but not much. However, that doesn’t mean that meditation is easy. By comparison, swimming is also simple, yet, it takes years of practice to become good at swimming, especially if you want to swim at sea. Running is even simpler. Nonetheless, we all know that in order to become a good runner, practice is imperative. And for both you need coaches. The same is true about meditation. Simple is not the same as easy.

We'll learn more about how the brain operates, how matter works, and what fills up empty space. But even if we evolve into a smarter, wiser species in possession of a truckload of new scientific knowledge, we will still have no access to ultimate answers. When a smart person finally admits that some mysteries can't be solved, she can relax and rejoice. When you honor what you know to be true, that nobody knows the ultimate answers, that there is a difference between what is not yet known and what can't be known, that guesses don't really count, and that easy answers like sitting on a mat or walking in nature may soothe you but answer nothing, then you can leave mysticism behind. Then you are ready for the answer: that you are obliged to take charge of the project of your life.

Why would he think I’d steal you away? I’m the one victimized, the one who left her family.” “This saddens your heart?” “Of course!” “You must not be sad. This Comanche will bring your family to you many times.” “Here? No, Hunter, they will never come here to see me.” “Then I will take you to their wooden walls. I want no sadness in your heart.” He felt some of the rigidity leave her and knew he had said the right words. “Oh, Hunter. I want to believe you. You can’t imagine how much.” He flexed, as if he meant to set her aside and rise. “I will bring you Santos’s scalp and the silver from his breeches.” Her eyes widened, and the color washed from her face. “Mercy, no. I don’t want to see his scalp.” “You believe?” He met her gaze, keeping his face solemn, though the horrified expression on hers made it difficult. “The scalp is in my bags. Proof, yes?” “I-- I don’t need to see it.” The tension drained from her, and she relaxed against him. “I believe you. Why would you bother lying?” Her eyes darkened. “What would you gain?” “Your ruffles?” He watched her face and knew the moment when she realized he was teasing her. “You said I could steal them, yes?” “As I recall, we decided you should take them when I wasn’t in them.” He ran a knuckle along the shadowy contour of her jaw. She tipped her head to press her cheek into his palm, tears spilling in sparkling splendor from her eyes. “Oh, Hunter, I should have trusted you. I’m so sorry. After all you’ve done for us, how will you ever forgive me?” “It is finished,” he murmured. “No sorrow, eh? Only gladness. Your Aye-mee is yours, so she is mine. It is a very simple thing, yes?” Through the gloaming, he could see her features softening, her quivery lips tipping up at the corners in a smile. She was not easy with him yet. A sudden move from him would set her heart to pounding again. Her smile encouraged him, though.

In reality, it can be difficult to take time out for yourself when stress is high and time is short—a combination that makes it too easy to forfeit regular practice. However, stressful times are when practicing is most important. Start with the amount of time you have available.

Take breaks from your computer. Relax your eyes and circulate the blood in the vessels around your eye area with some easy eye exercises: Look at something far away, then look at something close. Look up, look down. Look to the right, look to the left. Roll your eyes in circular clockwise and counter clockwise rotations.

Everyone is winning at the game of life, and I’m always left holding the crappiest hand. It’s not fair . . . I’m so sick of hearing about everybody else’s fast metabolism, relaxing vacations, fancy home renovations, and amazing dogs who don’t chew the couch . . . I wanted ALL that. Oh! Here she is again with her “I’ve lost the weight and I’ve got it all” posts . . . If I had a trainer, I’d look like that too . . . If he says “It’s so easy for me” one more time . . . I had the idea to start Uber 10 YEARS ago. I was getting around to it . . . It’s so much easier when you don’t have kids . . . If only my husband understood me . . . I’ve had a much harder life, and I don’t go flaunting it . . . Anyone can use a social media filter, try showing up IRL looking that good . . . Everyone is outdoing me and there’s no room for me to shine. It’s all over for me. I realize, now, that I wanted their success to be MY success. But they’ve grabbed

For her part, Kelly expressed warm feelings about Cooper as well. “He’s the one who taught me to relax during a scene and let the camera do some of the work,” she would recall. “On the stage you have to emote not only for the front rows, but for the balcony too, and I’m afraid I overdid it. He taught me the camera is always in the front row, and how to take it easy.

He was enormously relieved to hear the facts at last. Riva Allen was brought in. She entered the room with an air. She seemed intelligent, assured and quite gay. She had obviously abandoned her act of being an unregistered courtesan. She looked at Marin with a bright smile and said cheerfully, “Well—lover!” And she laughed, an easy, tinkling, relaxed laughter. Marin glanced questioningly at the women who had escorted his captive. He recognized them as skillful interrogators. He asked, “Get anything?” The older woman answered, “We’ve been with her ever since she was turned over to us at a quarter to nine. Everything we ask her, every persuasive method we use, just makes her laugh.” Marin nodded calmly. But there was no doubt of the defeat that was here. His guess the night before had been correct. Chemicals. Most likely, she had had the stuff concealed in a false tooth, which simply required her to bite down once, hard. He knew this “laughing” drug. It ended all fear. Threat of death, use of torture, were equally funny to the individual under its influence. The effect would last about twenty-four hours. By taking such a drug, this woman spy had removed herself as a participant during the decisive hours ahead. Marin said, reluctantly but with finality, “Take her away! Keep her under arrest!” His secretary came in. “Lieutenant David Burnley to see you, sir, by your instructions.” Marin said, “Send him in.

Resting and relaxing is as important as going out there and making it happen.

Having trouble, Piglet?” “The lid on this jar is stuck,” gasped Piglet. “Yes, it . . . is, isn’t it. Here, Pooh, you open it.” (Pop.) “Thanks, Pooh,” said Piglet. “Nothing, really,” said Pooh. “How did you get that lid off?” asked Tigger. “It’s easy,” said Pooh. “You just twist on it like this, until you can’t twist any harder. Then you take a deep breath and, as you let it out, twist. That’s all.” “Let me try that!” yelled Tigger, bouncing into the kitchen. “Where’s that new jar of pickles? Ah, here it is.” “Tigger,” began Piglet nervously, “I don’t think you’d better—” “Nothing to it,” said Tigger. ‘‘Just twist, and—” CRASH! “All right, Tigger,” I said. “Get those pickles off the floor.” “Slipped out of my paw,” explained Tigger. “He tried too hard,” said Pooh. And when you try too hard, it doesn’t work. Try grabbing something quickly and precisely with a tensed-up arm; then relax and try it again. Try doing something with a tense mind. The surest way to become Tense, Awkward, and Confused is to develop a mind that tries too hard—one that thinks too much. The animals in the Forest don’t think too much; they just Are. But with an overwhelming number of people, to misquote an old Western philosopher, it’s a case of “I think, therefore I am Confused.” If you compare the City with the Forest, you may begin to wonder why it’s man who goes around classifying himself as The Superior Animal.

I kept my leash on her magic intact as she slowly relaxed in my arms and released a juddering sob. She pressed her face to my chest and my heart leapt a little as she leaned into me like I was someone who could protect her. Once she relaxed completely, the flood of magic stopped pouring from her and I pulled my own power back, releasing her hand. Her hand shot out and caught my arm, her fingers gripping my bicep as I tried to pull away. “Don’t leave me,” she begged and I cleared my throat as I looked down at her. Her eyes were still closed and she was pretty much unconscious. I very much doubted she had any idea who was holding her. If she did she would likely be telling me to get the hell off of her. But she asked me not to leave and I found that I didn’t want to. Besides, she’d only had that nightmare because of what me and Max had done to her in that swimming pool. So maybe I owed her my help with this if that’s what she wanted. “I won’t,” I replied as I shifted her against my chest and scooped her into my arms. I stood and headed for the exit. The Orb was absolutely filled with ice and flowers and I guessed that the faculty wouldn’t be overly impressed when they had to come and clean it up tomorrow so I couldn’t just leave her here to get caught. Besides, she’d be easy prey for a Nymph in this state too and even with the extra security in place after the attack we couldn’t be sure one wouldn’t slip past the defences. I hadn’t spent the last few weeks trailing her around campus to protect her from them just to quit now and leave her vulnerable. If the Nymphs managed to get hold of a power like hers it could be disastrous. And that was the only reason I’d admit to for getting her out of here. The way my heart was beating as I held her close had nothing to do with it. Her friends had been forced to retreat all the way to the door by the onslaught of magic but they moved forward as they saw she was alright. “I can take her now,” the boy said firmly. I eyed his scrawny arms and raised an eyebrow at him in disbelief. There was no way in hell he’d be able to carry her any distance. “Not necessary,” I replied dismissively. “I’ll take her back to our House. You’re not even from Ignis anyway so why don’t you trot along home?” I made a move to pass them but Sofia stepped into my way, squaring her shoulders as she prepared to argue with me. I vaguely knew her from around the House and seeing her with the Vegas but her power was practically irrelevant to me so I’d never paid her much attention. She was also barely over five foot tall which meant I was looking down on her by over a foot and a half but she still didn’t back down. “Thank you for your help but Tory wouldn’t want you to be holding her like that,” she said firmly. “Diego and I will manage to-” “I said I’m taking her back to the House,” I replied flatly. “Diego and you can try to stop me if you think you can.” I snorted dismissively and tried to sidestep her. She shifted right back into my way and her skin began to glow a glittery pale pink as her Order tried to push its way from her skin with her anger. She had pretty big balls for a low powered Pegasus, I’d give her that. “What is it you think I’m going to do to her?” I asked. “I’m not a goddamn monster.” Sofia scowled at me like she didn't agree with that statement and I released a breath of frustration before pushing past her anyway. (Darius)

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You have no other choice, I tell myself. There is no other way. With that in mind, I pull the door shut and look for a seat belt to buckle. I find only the frayed end of a seat belt and a broken buckle. “Where did you find this piece of junk?” says Christina. “I stole it from the factionless. They fix them up. It wasn’t easy to get it to start. Better ditch those jackets, girls.” I ball up our jackets and toss them out the half-open window. Marcus shifts the truck into drive, and it groans. I half expect it to stay still when he presses the gas pedal, but it moves. From what I remember, it takes about an hour to drive from the Abnegation sector to Amity headquarters, and the trip requires a skilled driver. Marcus pulls onto one of the main thoroughfares and pushes his foot into the gas pedal. We lurch forward, narrowly avoiding a gaping hole in the road. I grab the dashboard to steady myself. “Relax, Beatrice,” says Marcus. “I’ve driven a car before.” “I’ve done a lot of things before, but that doesn’t mean I’m any good at them!” Marcus smiles and jerks the truck to the left so that we don’t hit a fallen stoplight. Christina whoops as we bump over another piece of debris, like she’s having the time of her life. “A different kind of stupid, right?” she says, her voice loud enough to be heard over the rush of wind through the cab. I clutch the seat beneath me and try not to think of what I ate for dinner.

You’re a pirate?” Obviously. Still, hard to believe. He pressed forward, forcing on her a series of blows meant to test her strength and will. She parried and blocked his every move with an aptitude that amazed. “Aye. A pirate, and captain of the Sea Sprite,” she boasted, a wry smile upon her full lips. Indeed, she appeared very much a pirate in her men’s garb—a threadbare, brown suit with overly long sleeves she’d had to roll up. Her ebony hair had been pulled back in a queue and was half hidden beneath a rumpled tricorn. Also, like her men, was her look of desperation and the grim cast to her countenance that bespoke of a hard existence. “We offered you quarter,” she said as she evaded his thrust with ease. “Why didn’t you surrender? You had to know we outnumbered you.” He didn’t answer. In all honesty, he’d thought they could defeat the pirates, if not with cannon fire, then with skill. After hearing of all the pirate attacks of late, they’d hired on additional hands, men who could fight. If it hadn’t been for the damn illness… “It’s not too late. You can save what’s left of your crew. Surrender now, Captain Glanville, and we’ll see that your men are ransomed back.” A wicked gleam brightened her eyes as if victory would soon be hers. He should do as she asked. It would be the sensible thing, but pride kept him from saying the words. Not yet. He still had another opponent to defeat, and so far she hadn’t been an easy one to overcome. Despite his steady attack, she kept her muscles relaxed, her balance sure. Her attention followed his movements no matter how small, adjusting her stance, looking for weaknesses. “How do you know I’m Captain Glanville?” When work was at hand, he didn’t dress any differently than his men. “I know much about you.” Stepping clear of two men battling to their left, she blocked his sword with her own and lunged with her dagger. He jumped from the blade, avoiding injury by the barest inch. This one relied on speed and accuracy rather than power. Smart woman. “What do you want from us?” he asked, launching an attack of his own, this time with so much force and speed, she had no choice but to retreat until her back came up against the railing. “We only just left London four days ago. Our cargo is mainly iron and ale.” Her gaze sharpened even as her expression became strained. His assault was wearing her down. “I want the Ruby Cross.” How the hell did she know he had the cross? And did she believe he’d simply hand it over? Hand over a priceless antiquity of the Knights Templar? Absurd. He swung his sword all the harder. The clang of steel rang through the air. Her reactions slowed, and her arms trembled. He made a final cut, putting all his strength behind the blow, and knocked her sword from her hand. Triumph surged through his veins. She attempted to slash out with her dagger. He grabbed her arm before her blade could reach him and hauled her close, their faces nose to nose. “You’ll never take the cross from me,” he vowed as he towered over her, his grip strong. The point of a sword touched his back. Thomas tensed, he swore beneath his breath, self-disgust heavy in his chest. The distraction of this one woman had sealed his fate. Bloody hell.

If we purchased the land, the zoo would be enlarged from four acres to six. At the time, it seemed like an enormous step to take. We argued back and forth. We talked, dreamed, and planned. Steve always seemed to worry about the future. “If anything happens to me, promise that you’ll take care of the zoo.” “Of course I will,” I said. “That’s easy to promise, but nothing is going to happen to you. Don’t worry.” “Will you still love me if a croc grabs me and I lose an arm or a leg?” “Yes, of course I would still love you,” I said. But there were many evenings when he would run through improbably scenarios, just checking to see how I really felt. One night he looked particularly concerned, his brow furrowed. “What’s up?” I asked. “Tell me why you married me.” I laughed. “Because you’re hot in the cot.” That broke the tension, and he laughed too. We both relaxed a little bit. But he would sometimes wonder if I’d married him just because I loved him, or if it was because he was a bit of Tarzan and Croc Dundee and Indiana Jones all rolled into one. “I’m in love with Steve Irwin,” I assured him, “and part of the reason I love you is because you are such a staunch advocate for wildlife. Your empathy and compassion for all animals is part of it too. But most of all, I know that destiny brought us together.” Steve continued our serious discussion, and he spoke of his mortality. He was convinced that he would never reach forty. That’s why he was in such a hurry all the time, to get as much done as he could. He didn’t feel sad about it. He only felt the motivation to make a difference before he was gone. “I’m not afraid of death,” he said. “I’m only afraid of dying. I don’t want to get sick and dwindle. I love working hard and playing hard and living hard, and making every moment count.” I learned so much from Steve. He helped me reevaluate my own purpose, my own life. What would happen if I didn’t make it to forty? What legacy would I leave? That evening he was unusually contemplative. “None of our petty problems really matter,” he said. I agreed. “In a hundred years, what difference is it going to make, worrying about this two acres of land? We need to focus on the real change that will make the world a better place for our children and grandchildren.” Steve gave me a strange look. Children? We had never discussed having children much, because we were flat strapped. The thought of filming more documentaries, running the zoo, and raising a family was just too daunting. But that evening we did agree on one thing: We would spend some of my savings and make the leap to enlarge the zoo. We were both so happy with our decision. “We’re lucky that we met before I became the Crocodile Hunter,” he said. I knew what he was talking about. It made things a lot easier, a lot more clear-cut. I had fallen in love with Steve Irwin, not the guy on TV. “I don’t know how they do it,” he said. “Who?” I asked. “People in the limelight,” he said. “How do they tell who’s in it for them and who’s just after their celebrity? It puts a new slant on everything. Not for us, though,” he added. “Too right,” I agreed.

Why have your passions cooled?” “I expected--hoped--that you would be more like you were in the letters.” Christopher paused, staring at her closely. “I’ve often wondered…did someone help you to write them?” Although Prudence had the face of an angel, the fury in her eye was the exact opposite of heavenly serenity. “Oh! Why are you always asking me about those stupid letters! They were only words. Words mean nothing!” “You’ve made me realize that words are the most important things in the world…” “Nothing,” Christopher repeated, staring at her. “Yes.” Prudence looked slightly mollified as she saw that she had gained his entire attention. “I’m here, Christopher. I’m real. You don’t need silly old letters now. You have me.” “What about when you wrote to me about the quintessence?” he asked. “Did that mean nothing?” “The--” Prudence stared at him, flushing. “I can’t recall what I meant by that.” “The fifth element, according to Aristotle,” he prompted gently. Her color drained, leaving her bone-white. She looked like a guilty child caught in an act of mischief. “What has that to do with anything?” she cried, taking refuge in anger. “I want to talk about something real. Who cares about Aristotle?” “I do like the idea that there’s a little starlight in each of us…” She had never written those words. For a moment Christopher couldn’t react. One thought followed another, each connecting briefly like the hands of men in a torch race. Some entirely different woman had written to him…with Prudence’s consent…he had been deceived…Audrey must have known…he had been made to care…and then the letters had stopped. Why? “I’m not who you think I am…” Christopher felt his throat and chest tightening, heard a rasp of something that sounded like a wondering laugh. Prudence laughed as well, the sound edged with relief. She had no idea in hell what had caused his bitter amusement. Had they wanted to make a fool of him? Had it been intended as revenge for some past slight? By God, he would find who had done it, and why. He had loved and been betrayed by someone whose name he didn’t know. He loved her still--that was the unforgivable part. And she would pay, whoever she was. It felt good to have a purpose again, to hunt someone for the purpose of inflicting damage. It felt familiar. It was who he was. His smile, thin as a knife edge, cut through the cold fury. Prudence gazed at him uncertainly. “Christopher?” she faltered. “What are you thinking?” He went to her and took her shoulders in his hands, thinking briefly of how easy it would be to slide his hands up to her neck and throttle her. He shaped his mouth into a charming smile. “Only that you’re right,” he said. “Words aren’t important. This is what’s important.” He kissed her slowly, expertly, until he felt her slender body relax against his. Prudence made a little sound of pleasure, her arms linking around his neck. “Before I leave for Hampshire,” Christopher murmured against her blushing cheek, “I’ll ask your father for formal permission to court you. Does that please you?” “Oh, yes,” Prudence cried, her face radiant. “Oh, Christopher…do I have your heart?” “You have my heart,” Christopher said tonelessly, holding her close, while his cold gaze fastened on a distant point outside the window. Except that he had no heart left to give.

In 1966, American anthropologist Edward T. Hall specified four distinct distance zones to describe the perception of physical space around us. Understanding these zones and honoring their invisible boundaries will give you a sixth sense about another person’s “space” as well as your own. Intimate Zone (less than 2’) —This zone represents our personal space and is reserved for the most trusted and loved people in our lives. Touching, hugging, standing side by side, and engaging in private conversations is common and encouraged. When an interloper violates this personal space, great discomfort and awkwardness can be created. What to do? Take a step back or sideways. Personal Zone (2’-4’) —This is the distance for interaction with good friends, family, social gatherings, or parties. It's an easy and relaxed space for talking, shaking hands, gesturing, laughing and making faces. Social Zone (4’-12') —This zone seems to be an appropriate distance for casual friends, colleagues, and acquaintances to interact. It is the comfortable distance we maintain while interacting or addressing large groups of people. Public Zone (over 12’) —This is the distance we keep from strangers or persons with little acquaintance. It provides the greatest distance between people. This is a safe space that still allows us to experience community and belonging with new people.

The cyclicality of hard alternating with easy plays out not only in the day and the week but also across training cycles and even across years. Think of Olympians who take an easy year or two in their quadrennial cycles. Check that there is variety across your training at every level, from the cooldown after a hard workout to the easier year after a particularly tough season. Active recovery, both in easy workouts and in easy days, introduces variability to training. Remember Carl Foster’s finding, outlined in Chapter 4, that athletes can adapt better to a greater overall training stress when it is variable instead of monotonous. Make the easy days really easy so that the hard days can be truly hard. If you can rein in your effort on your easy days, you’ll have room to push a little faster or a little longer on your hard days, yielding a much bigger fitness reward than simply muddling through with easy days that are too hard and hard days that therefore become too slow or short.

If you randomly approach and talk to anyone at a social event you'll get random and often poor results when it comes to getting a good conversation flowing. Many people will do this when they feel nervous and rush to talk to someone, to talk to anyone, rather than feel self-conscious standing there alone in a crowded room.   It’s far better to take a moment to scan the room, look at who is available and choose the most likely best match to talk to. i.e. someone who looks happy, friendly, relaxed and of a similar background to you. When you become more selective about who to talk to your success rate will improve dramatically and over time as your skills improve you'll have a wider range of people you can confidently approach. The key is to take charge of the situation rather

Abundant time can make us procrastinate. Deadline pressure makes us more efficient,” Mr. Shafir says. “What scarcity does is make you focus. When there’s no scarcity, you relax, you take it easy, and then you wonder, what happened to the day? You’re treating time the way the rich treat money.

If we are at a constant state of peace it is easier to have mental clarity. With mental clarity it is easier to memorize, retain, and recall the word of God. The more you grow in the Lord in these areas the easier it becomes to retain the word of God if applied correctly. Much like the statement, “the rich get richer” even so the “godly get godlier.” The best way to exercise ourselves mentally is also the same way we exercise ourselves in godliness. As we exercise ourselves towards godliness, we obtain the mind of Christ. A mind which is a loving, sober, holy, and a peacefully, wise mind. When seeking to memorize large amount of text it causes stress on the brain. As it is written, “And further, my son, be admonished by these. Of making many books there is no end, and much study is wearisome to the flesh.” Ecc 12:12  If we are not at peace within ourselves, but tired or stressed out already, then it only adds fuel to the fire. A fire we are trying to put out. Similarly, if we are overly excited it can also be difficult to tame our mind. An overly excited mind can act like a raging bull trampling about wherever it desires. In such a case we need to learn self-discipline. If it is hard for us to grapple our thoughts because our thoughts are running a rampage then we need to discipline ourselves to sit in the presence of the Spirit and have a mind that is at peace. Therefore it is good to meditate on the presence of the Lord and relax before you memorize that you may be ready for the memorizing marathon. Usually if you’re tired or very stressed out that is a time to take a break and rest in the Lord. Make sure you’re both getting plenty of sleep and resting in the presence of the Lord. By continuing in His spirit it will be easier to meditate on Him and His word when the time comes. As we stated before a marathon runner is mindful of their diet. Likewise certain foods can give us a cloudy head, whereas others can give us clarity. When we eat right it helps our mental state. By eating processed foods, refined sugars, highly salty foods, and highly fatty foods it can affect the mind so that it’s hard to think. There have been studies which have proven that after eating fast food many people become depressed, tired, and drowsy. But to keep yourself alert and healthy, it is better to eat whole grain foods, fewer salty foods, less foods high in fat, higher protein foods, and whole foods. Whole foods are foods with no processing. Such as eggs, unprocessed meats (chicken breasts, etc.), whole grains (oatmeal, rice, whole wheat flour etc).

If you’d like to have more mental clarity, it is suggested by many physicians that you eat healthier foods. In today’s health-conscious society it almost goes without saying, but sometimes we forget these things when it comes time for memorizing the word of God. If you want more mental clarity then it is a good idea to be eating well. But if you’re going to eat well you need to do so for long periods of time before you feel the mental effects. Much like an Olympic runner one needs to be well conditioned in all things. They’re well-conditioned in body but we should be well conditioned in mind. There are many various things that can help us exercise towards a well-conditioned mind. For example cardio exercise in itself helps bring mental clarity. Although all these things may not be necessary to memorize well, they definitely help and therefore have been included in the discussion of step one. For myself, I choose to eat healthy, jog often, and keep a relaxed peaceful state of heart. When we focus on the aspects of a Christian walk which lead to a heart of peace it is easier to have a clear mind. It is not that we should exercise ourselves towards godliness only for the sake of memorizing the Bible. But through the natural course of the Christian walk, as we take our walks seriously and exercise ourselves in the peace of God, clarity of mind will come naturally, and so will memorizing the word of God. In this step we are preparing our minds for memorizing by putting our thoughts to rest. A long stressful day can make it difficult to memorize. So it does good to bring peace back in our minds first. If we maintain the healthy habits and tips stated above it will be easier to follow through with this step as time goes on. Ultimately the first step is to bring your mind to a place of peace. Take a mental rest and let your thoughts dwell on the lord. Meditate for a period of time to wrangle your thoughts and corral them in. A stressed out or overly active mind will keep you from memorizing the word of God.

So the place attracted drifters, artists, misfits, natural exiles, political and other eccentrics and slightly deranged or badly messed-up people of more or less every sort, and always had. Most were from Ulubis but some were more exotic and from further afield, generally trustafarians and-or gappers portaling in from the rest of the Mercatoria, taking time out between education and responsibility to relax a little. The place produced good art, it was an unofficial - but tax-deductible - finishing school for the aforesaid children of the rich (give the darling brats true freedom and let them see how empty it was, was the idea), it was a way station for those heading out to disgrace or back from perdition, and it was a halfway house for those who might or might not ever again contribute anything useful to society but who just might galvanise it fundamentally. (And, if you wanted to be really paranoid about stuff, it was - as far as the authorities were concerned - a relatively easy-to-watch and even easier-to-close-down sump for dangerous ideas: a radical trap.) It was useful, in other words. It fulfilled a purpose, if not several.

I leaned over to my daughter. “All those years I tried to teach you to cook have led up to this moment,” I said teasingly. The moment the words popped out of my mouth, I cringed, realizing she might take my comment as an insult. Sure, as a mom, I wanted to teach her to be a good cook like me, but I was proud of her accomplishments and didn’t care what she chose not to do. With the tension between us lately, especially after my lecture two nights ago, I braced myself for the chilled look she’d cut me with. “I’m already an expert, Mom,” she threw back at me. “I can dial the pizza delivery phone number with my eyes closed. It’s perfect every time.” Everyone burst into laughter, and relief shot through me at her easy tone. Oh, how I wished we’d be able to relax with each other more often. I felt as if every word needed to be carefully analyzed to make sure I wasn’t hurting her feelings. When had it begun to fall apart on us? When Allegra began going to school? Or had the broken cracks always been there, slowly eroding through the years because we never tried to repair them?

I’m so grateful for Hunter’s light-hearted tone and compassionate reminders that we don’t always have to be working so hard, that we also need to find ways to take it easy and just relax into the moment whenever possible.

dealing hands at high speed, blowing cigarette smoke at me, and engaging me in complicated conversations. Meanwhile, I was keeping track of the cards, calculating the percent advantage and my bet size, then playing out my hand using strategies that varied depending on the count. The key was to take it one step at a time, adding a new difficulty only after I became comfortable and relaxed with what I was already doing. What had seemed daunting finally became easy.

In Why Zebras Don’t Get Ulcers, Robert Sapolsky details how reactivity and your temperament are also strong predictors of how stressed-out you are likely to be. Our sensitive high reactor can be compared to a neurotic “Type A” personality. Any little thing sets them off, and once they’re going it can be hours before they settle back down. It’s easy for a high reactor to stay soaked in stress hormones for hours on end, set off by an ever-compounding series of morning traffic, meetings, bosses, co-workers, and traffic on the way home. These people set themselves off, yes, but it’s in their nature to do so. Being effectively numb to the same pressures, low-reactors can handle much more without flinching. The low reactor isn’t a psychopath, as they experience emotions and react to life-events as anyone would, but the effects of stress aren’t pronounced. It takes an extraordinary event to provoke a response, and they’re much better at turning all the coping systems off after the fact. You’d be absolutely right if you guessed that these neural and psychological differences translate to different physical outcomes. Stress is stress. Your brain is the master controller, and it doesn’t care if the threat is a third-degree burn or you clenching your teeth for 16 straight hours because you don’t know how to relax. To the high reactor, intense exercise becomes just another log on the bonfire, whereas a low reactor may not even notice.

Meditation + Mental Strength An emotion is our evolved biology predicting the future impact of a current event. In modern settings, it’s usually exaggerated or wrong. Why is meditation so powerful? Your breath is one of the few places where your autonomic nervous system meets your voluntary nervous system. It’s involuntary, but you can also control it. I think a lot of meditation practices put an emphasis on the breath because it is a gateway into your autonomic nervous system. There are many, many cases in the medical and spiritual literature of people controlling their bodies at levels that should be autonomous. Your mind is such a powerful thing. What’s so unusual about your forebrain sending signals to your hindbrain and your hindbrain routing resources to your entire body? You can do it just by breathing. Relaxed breathing tells your body you’re safe. Then, your forebrain doesn’t need as many resources as it normally does. Now, the extra energy can be sent to your hindbrain, and it can reroute those resources to the rest of your body. I’m not saying you can beat whatever illness you have just because you activated your hindbrain. But you’re devoting most of the energy normally required to care about the external environment to the immune system. I highly recommend listening to the Tim Ferriss’s podcast with Wim Hof. He is a walking miracle. Wim’s nickname is the Ice Man. He holds the world record for the longest time spent in an ice bath and swimming in freezing cold water. I was very inspired by him, not only because he’s capable of super-human physical feats, but because he does it while being incredibly kind and happy—which is not easy to accomplish. He advocates cold exposure, because he believes people are too separate from their natural environment. We’re constantly clothed, fed, and warm. Our bodies have lost touch with the cold. The cold is important because it can activate the immune system. So, he advocates taking long ice baths. Being from the Indian subcontinent, I’m strongly against the idea of ice baths. But Wim inspired me to give cold showers a try. And I did so by using the Wim Hof breathing method. It involves hyperventilating to get more oxygen into your blood, which raises your core temperature. Then, you can go into the shower. The first few cold showers were hilarious because I’d slowly ease myself in, wincing the entire way. I started about four or five months ago. Now, I turn the shower on full-blast, and then I walk right in. I don’t give myself any time to hesitate. As soon as I hear the voice in my head telling me how cold it’s going to be, I know I have to walk in. I learned a very important lesson from this: most of our suffering comes from avoidance. Most of the suffering from a cold shower is the tip-toeing your way in. Once you’re in, you’re in. It’s not suffering. It’s just cold. Your body saying it’s cold is different than your mind saying it’s cold. Acknowledge your body saying it’s cold. Look at it. Deal with it. Accept it, but don’t mentally suffer over it. Taking a cold shower for two minutes isn’t going to kill you. Having a cold shower helps you re-learn that lesson every morning. Now hot showers are just one less thing I need out of life. [2] Meditation is intermittent fasting for the mind. Too much sugar leads to a heavy body, and too many distractions lead to a heavy mind. Time spent undistracted and alone, in self-examination, journaling, meditation, resolves the unresolved and takes us from mentally fat to fit.

Before starting a period of quality, distraction-free work, I complete a sequence of deep breaths. It goes like this: first, take three breaths to relax. Then take three breaths to let go of the past, and another three to let go of the future. Lastly, take three breaths to remind yourself how easy it is to take a vacation in the present.

Alaska Airlines Phone Number-+1-855-653-0615 Alaska Airlines Phone Number The process is very quick and easy for users. The user just has to login through their account select origin place and destination place with their preferred time. They can pay through various modes like Debit card, Credit card or Paypal. Now you can enjoy your ride with paying later through EMI facilities. Alaska Airlines understands the love of people towards their smartphones. So for them, they develop an easy and fast application which is suitable for Android, Apple ios, Windows system. From now on you do not need to rely on the agent you can book your tickets by own with your comfort. Especially for first-class passengers all have access to entertainment through AVOD with soft drinks and smooth blanket. First-class passengers can avail of their meal before taking the flight up to 24 hours. The seats are specially designed with 40 inches of pitch with recline. All the passengers may enjoy the first-class lounge. The lounge has more space for relaxing body and enjoys an alcoholic or non-alcoholic drink.

She used to love flying through the air with only her hands to keep her from falling. It was freeing in a way she needed. She remembered what Link had told her on their first day about sloughing off the fears and insecurities she had acquired by dealing with her aunt for years and realized that was exactly what she needed to do. Phina had always wanted to go her own way. She wasn’t one to fit in naturally or be a part of the norm. She wanted to walk to her own beat and not feel like it was necessary to apologize for it. However, her aunt had made her think she should be ashamed of herself, that she wasn’t good enough unless she conformed to what her aunt wanted. That ended up making her feel like she had to apologize for being who she was, even if she didn’t want to. She paused her handstand, lowered her legs, and stood. Phina stared in front of her though she didn’t focus on anything in particular. Was it really so simple? Accept who she was, don’t apologize for it, and don’t let anyone’s opinion make her feel like she was…less. It seemed easy in concept, but she didn’t think it would be quite as simple in practice. After years of feeling like she needed to be less, it wouldn’t just take one realization to make her feel like she could be herself, let alone become more. Still, the realization made her feel lighter and cleaner. Perhaps a few of those layers really had sloughed off. Phina closed her eyes and decided to just let go and relax. A song popped into her head and she started moving to that inner music, shaking off the nerves and turning stretches into dance moves. When her muscles had loosened up again, she opened her eyes and eyed the corridor as she stopped moving.

So let me confide in you a big secret. Whatever you experience when you simply rest your attention on whatever’s going on in your mind at any given moment is meditation. Simply resting in this way is the experience of natural mind. The only difference between meditation and the ordinary, everyday process of thinking, feeling, and sensation is the application of the simple, bare awareness that occurs when you allow your mind to rest simply as it is—without chasing after thoughts or becoming distracted by feelings or sensations. It took me a long time to recognize how easy meditation really is, mainly because it seemed so completely ordinary, so close to my everyday habits of perception, that I rarely stopped to acknowledge it. Like many of the people I now meet on teaching tours, I thought that natural mind had to be something else, something different from, or better than, what I was already experiencing. Like most people, I brought so much judgment to my experience. I believed that thoughts of anger, anxiety, fear, and so on that came and went throughout the day were bad or counterproductive—or at the very least inconsistent with natural peace! The teachings of the Buddha— and the lesson inherent in this exercise in non-meditation—is that if we allow ourselves to relax and take a mental step back, we can begin to recognize that all these different thoughts are simply coming and going within the context of an unlimited mind, which, like space, remains fundamentally unperturbed by whatever occurs within

It was impossible for us to be afraid with Wallenberg as our leader, because we thought that if he could take such risks, so could we. His calm relaxed us. And I can remember thinking, 'Boy, it would be easy to fall in love with a man like this

In turn, the Hadza have become so used to visiting scientists that hosting the researchers who observe them has become a way to supplement their income. Sadly, visiting scientists who want to emphasize how much they are studying bona fide hunter-gatherers sometimes turn a blind eye to the degree to which the Hadza’s way of life is changing as a result of contact with the outside world. These papers rarely mention how many Hadza children now go to government schools, and how the Hadza’s territory is almost entirely shared with neighboring tribes of farmers and pastoralists, with whom they trade and whose cows tramp all over the region. As I write this, the Hadza don’t yet have cell phones, but they are not isolated as they once were. Despite these limitations, there is still much to learn from the Hadza, and I am fortunate to have visited them on a couple of occasions. But to get to the Hadza is not easy. They live in a ring of inhospitable hills surrounding a seasonal, salty lake in northwestern Tanzania—a hot, arid, sunbaked region that is almost impossible to farm.13 The area has some of the worst roads on the planet. Of the roughly twelve hundred Hadza, only about four hundred still predominantly hunt and gather, and to find these few, more traditional Hadza, you need sturdy jeeps, an experienced guide, and a lot of skill to travel over treacherous terrain. After a rainstorm, driving twenty miles can take most of the day. Many things surprised me when I first walked into a Hadza camp mid-morning on a torrid, sunny day in 2013, but I remember being especially struck by how everyone was apparently doing nothing. Hadza camps consist of a few temporary grass huts that blend in with the surrounding bushes. I didn’t realize I had walked into a camp until I found myself amid about fifteen Hadza men, women, and children who were sitting on the ground as shown in figure 2. The women and children were relaxing on one side, and the men on another. One fellow was straightening some arrows, and a few children were toddling about, but no one was engaged in any hard work. To be sure, the Hadza weren’t lounging on sofas, watching TV, munching potato chips, and sipping soda, but they were doing what so many health experts warn us to avoid: sitting.

And I also know that love is a pretty quiet thing. It's lying on the sofa together drinking coffee, talking about where you're going to go that morning to drink more coffee. It's folding down pages of books you think they'd find interesting. It's hanging up their laundry when they leave the house having moronically forgotten to take it out of the washing machine. It's saying, 'You're safer here than in a car, you're more likely to die on one of your Fitness First Body Pump classes than in the next hour,' as they hyperventilate on an easyJet flight to Dublin. It's the texts: 'Hope today goes well', 'How did today go?', 'Thinking of you today' and 'Picked up loo roll'. I know that love happens under the splendour of moon and stars and fireworks and sunsets but it also happens when you're lying on blow-up air beds in a childhood bedroom, sitting in A&E or in the queue for a passport or in a traffic jam. Love is a quiet, reassuring, relaxing, pottering, pedantic, harmonious hum of a thing; sometimes you can easily forget is there, even though its palms are outstretched beneath you in case you fall.

Coorie believes in looking out for ways to make the most of what's around us, creating coorie on the cheap is easy. An added bonus of many of these coorie activities is that they force us to slow down and ask deeper questions about where we are going and where we have been. They also encourage collaboration, whether that's spending time with our nieces and nephews baking cakes, taking our dogs for a walk, combing the beach for shells or chatting to older generations about the history of our country. There are countless ways to embody coorie into your days at work, days off, nights in the city and nights out in the wild.

You become more relaxed when you decide to take up residence in your own mind and your own business. Life is easy when you simplify and make peace with your train of thought.

Full of hope, you’ll relax, confident again; you’ll look around, sit back, and take it easy.

The best way to control our thoughts is to offer the mind to God in complete surrender. The Holy Spirit will accept it and take control of it immediately. Then it will be relatively easy to think on spiritual things, especially if we train our thought by long periods of daily prayer. Long practice in the art of mental prayer (that is, talking to God inwardly as we work or [relax]) will help to form the habit of holy thought.

I left you two more pieces. You can’t be full.” I glanced over at him. “You mean you didn’t stop eating because you were full?” He shook his head. “No, I was being considerate. I’m never full.” I leaned back on the sofa. “Eat all you want. I’m done.” He didn’t lean forward to grab another slice like I had expected him to. Instead his attention stayed on me. “Why did you invite me here tonight, Ash?” My face flushed. Why had I asked him to come? Answering that question wasn’t easy. Since he’d walked in the door, I’d been acting ridiculous. I never seemed to be at a loss for things to say to Sawyer. Beau rattled me. Now he was being bored to death by the preacher’s daughter when he could be spending his evening with his sexy, hot girlfriend, doing all those things I knew nothing about. I was depriving him of an exciting night. The idea that he’d come tonight to entertain me for his cousin’s sake made me feel awful. He’d been doing this as a charity, and I couldn’t even make it interesting for him. Well, at least I’d fed him. “I’m sorry. I guess I just didn’t want to be alone, but I’m okay. You can go. I know this is dull compared to your normal activities.” I managed a weak smile. His frown deepened as he leaned forward and rested his elbows on his knees, but he didn’t take his eyes off me. “Being with you isn’t dull. You just seem uncomfortable. If you want me to leave, I will. I have a feeling you’re rethinking the having me over thing.” I sighed and let out a small laugh. “No. I want you to stay. I’ve just never had any guy over here but Sawyer, and even then my parents were here. I’m nervous. It’s not that I don’t want you here.” “Why do I make you nervous?” he asked, watching me. “I don’t know,” I answered truthfully. “Hmm, you’re wrong, by the way,” he replied, grinning. “What?” “You’ve had other guys here. I use to come here often. Your room still looks the same.” I smiled. He was right. I just needed to remember this was the same boy who used to lie on my bed with me and watch movies. He closed the space between us and relaxed as he stretched his arm along the back of the sofa. “I don’t bite, Ash. It’s just me. Promise. Come here and see.” I studied the crook of his arm; the idea of snuggling up against him was extremely tempting. But I didn’t think he had that in mind. So instead I leaned back on the couch, careful not to touch him. His hand didn’t come around me and pull me closer. It remained on the back of the couch, and I hated that I was disappointed. “Relax and watch the movie,” he said in a soft voice I’d never heard him use before. It made me feel warm and safe.

Trust Trusting is an advantage of chakra healing. If you have life-force energy flowing through the chakras properly, you will have a healthy ability to trust. It ensures that you will have more faith in your relationships, more trust in your talents, and more confidence in the universe's simple goodness. Confidence also takes practice and conviction. You have to practice your belief in the basic goodness of the universe in other people, in yourself. The only way to gain more confidence is to try it out. If you give them the opportunity to convince you, you won't be able to tell if someone is trustworthy. If you don't try them out, you won't know the abilities. So, if you're always so sure the world is out to get you, you won't know the universe's simple goodness. These are not easy practices. If you're not used to trusting, turning it around won't be easy. If you are concerned with that, the first step is to notice it. You can then add chakra healing to your healing methods. The Muladhara Chakra, in particular, deals with confidence in general, and balancing the Manipura, Anahata, and Visuddha will help you trust yourself. For your mind, body and spirit, chakra healing is a positive thing. Join it with patience and gentleness. Moving softly and paying attention to how the body reacts is important to you. Do nothing that is going to cause you pain or that seems too much for you. Cultivate this relationship with your energy system with care and gentleness. Peace First comes from within to find peace. It's time to relax if you feel like you're constantly struggling. There is peace in your very heart, in quietness. If you're not used to accessing it, some practice will be needed. Chakra healing helps bring peace to your life because you allow the life force to flow freely through the energy channels of the body, support the endocrine system of the body, and support the sympathetic nervous system. If they are helped and do not have to work overtime, then you can relax at appropriate times and stimulate the parasympathetic nervous system. If your body is not in the state of flight or combat, overworking the sympathetic nervous system, the body has time to recover. And you can feel at peace as the body recovers. If energy flows through the body well, feeling peaceful is much easier than when energy is blocked.

My personal favorite is Quit Pro - Stop Smoking Now. The Rebalancing Technique This an easy technique to tell your primitive brain you are safe and helps to calm and relax you by activating the parasympathetic nervous system. This works great for anxiety, panic and the general overwhelming feelings that can be triggered when we quit smoking. Remember, your subconscious believes that you need nicotine to survive, which is part of why it kicks up such a fuss when it notices your nicotine levels have gone down. Finding ways of communicating with your subconscious and nervous system in a way it understands is key to controlling your withdrawal symptoms. I find physical actions highly effective for communicating with this primitive part of our brains. Find a comfortable position - standing, sitting or lying down. Close your eyes and take a deep breath. Really fill your lungs down into your belly. Place your hands down slightly away from your sides, with your palms facing forward and your fingers long and straight. (When we are stressed or feel threatened we clench our fist and cross our arms over our chest or tummy to protect our vital organs and ourselves. By having our hands and arms open, we are telling our brain that we are safe.) Turn your head gently to one side, within a comfortable range with your chin slightly up. (When we’re stressed, we tend to tighten our neck muscles and bring our head down to protect our throats. By exposing our necks, we are communicating to our nervous system that we feel open and trusting.) Do one or more nice big yawns, really stretching your jaw open. Then focus on the muscles around your jaw being really relaxed, resting your tongue gently on the roof of your mouth. (We have a tendency to clench our jaw muscles in times of stress, anxiety, discomfort, annoyance or when feeling depressed or overwhelmed. This tension tells your brain you are stressed and keeps the fight or flight stress response activated. Purposely relaxing the jaw helps to communicate that it’s safe to relax.) Take slow deep breaths, exhaling for twice as long as you inhale – imagining you can breathe any stress, worries or tension out of your lungs like black smoke... Do this every hour or two if you are experiencing anxiety to retrain your nervous system

Taking breaks will also increase the quality of your work.  When you take a break, you force yourself to take a few seconds to reevaluate. Sometimes you find that you have to adjust your work to increase the quality. In contrast, when you work on a task, without a break, it’s easy to lose focus and get lost in the work. That’s why the 5-minute breaks are equally important as the 30 minutes of work. Take your breaks seriously — see them as a reward. Use your break to walk a bit, do some stretches, grab a cup of coffee or do something that relaxes you. Feel pleased with the work you have done. I’ve been

It’s freezing outside and imagine you are relaxing in the water of your swimming pool. Is it possible? Will you not freeze in the cold water? Absolutely not! Pool Enclosures can make it a possible. They not only protect the pool from rain and snow but also enhance the inside air temperature and help you enjoy your most relaxing activity in the winters. The most popular enclosures are the Telescopic Swimming Pool Enclosures. These are the most suitable enclosures for long outdoor swimming pools. They enhance the overall appearance of the pool. These are quick and easy to assemble. These are among the best-selling enclosures in the markets. As the name suggests telescopic enclosures are long and slender just like the telescope. These enclosures are also used by resorts and hotel owners to cover their swimming pools. The pool enclosures for outdoor pools offer an extended living space when connected to the home. You can opt for an arc shaped pool enclosure that could be opened or closed. An enclosure with traditional design can improve the aesthetics of the area. Other styles and designs are offered by a large number of companies to turn your pool side into a beautiful and relaxing space. As it becomes very difficult to put and remove the pool covers manually, automatic pool enclosures that can be applied with a push on a button have been introduced in the market. These pool enclosures are easy to install and can be opened or closed whenever required in just a few seconds. As the pool is protected from rain, dust and snow, you will require very less time in cleaning the pool. With enclosures on you can enjoy an extended pool season all year round. In majority of the houses with swimming pool, you can find Retractable Enclosures over the swimming pool. They make the pool useful even in rain and improve the overall look of the pool. These are also easy to assemble and provide a hassle free experience. Hence if you have a pool in your house and you want to make it even more beautiful, then it is highly recommended to make use of retractable enclosures. If you want to enjoy at the pool side throughout the year, then it is high time you get a pool enclosure installed. The benefits of pool covers and enclosures are plenty and the cost is worth the pleasure. You can look for the companies that offer affordable and easy to assemble enclosure kits on the internet and take advantage of their products and services. These companies can even custom design an enclosure to match the architecture of your house. Enjoy swimming in an enclosed beautiful pool around the year!

Exploring THC Lean: A Sweet New Way to Enjoy Cannabis If you’re looking to elevate your cannabis experience, THC Lean is a game changer that has been gaining popularity among enthusiasts. This new product combines the joys of traditional cannabis consumption with the sweetness of syrup, creating a unique way to enjoy THC. What is THC Lean? THC Lean is a cannabis-infused syrup that can be mixed with your favorite beverages or consumed on its own. With its rich, syrupy texture, it offers a delicious alternative to smoking or vaping. Many users appreciate the ease of use and the ability to customize their dosing. Whether you’re looking to relax after a long day or enhance a social gathering, THC Lean provides a versatile option. How to Use THC Lean Using THC Lean is simple and fun. You can add it to various drinks, such as sodas, lemonades, or even cocktails, creating a flavorful twist that elevates your beverage experience. For those who prefer a more direct approach, it can be consumed straight from the bottle, making it convenient for on-the-go enjoyment. When trying THC Lean for the first time, it’s essential to start with a small dose to gauge your tolerance. As with any cannabis product, the effects can vary based on individual tolerance levels, so take your time to find the perfect amount for you. Why Choose THC Lean? Flavorful Experience: THC Lean is available in various flavors, allowing you to choose one that suits your taste. Whether you prefer fruity, sweet, or even herbal flavors, there’s a THC Lean syrup for you. Discreet Consumption: For those who want to enjoy cannabis without drawing attention, THC Lean provides a discreet option. It resembles regular syrup, making it easy to use in social settings without raising eyebrows. Customizable Dosing: One of the best features of THC Lean is the ability to control your dosage. This allows users to tailor their experience, whether they prefer a mild buzz or a more intense high. Conclusion In conclusion, THC Lean offers a delicious and versatile way to enjoy cannabis. With its sweet flavors and customizable dosing, it’s perfect for both newcomers and seasoned users alike. If you’re looking to try something new, consider adding THC Lean to your cannabis repertoire.