Sanity And Peace Quotes

Persistence. Perfection. Patience. Power. Prioritize your passion. It keeps you sane.

The idea that my brains could be untangled, straightened out, and thus refashioned into a state of peace and sanity was a comforting fantasy.

Peace is not something you can force on anything or anyone... much less upon one's own mind. It is like trying to quiet the ocean by pressing upon the waves. Sanity lies in somehow opening to the chaos, allowing anxiety, moving deeply into the tumult, diving into the waves, where underneath, within, peace simply is.

There is nothing sane, merciful, heroic, devout, redemptive, wise, holy, loving, peaceful, joyous, righteous, gracious, remotely spiritual, or worthy of praise where mass murder is concerned. We have been in this world long enough to know that by now and to understand that nonviolent conflict resolution informed by mutual compassion is the far better option.

Look deep within your soul and ask yourself—no matter who it concerns—is it worth it? Is it worth losing your outer and inner peace? Is it worth your happiness? Is it worth your sanity? If they are causing you stress; let them go and cut the cord. The question that needs to be asked is—who do you love more? Yourself, or making other people happy?

Please," Kendra said. "Think of all the lives that will be destroyed." "I have," Mark said. "Believe me, darling, I grasp all aspects of this, I really do. But how much has the public I'm protecting worried about me? My sanity, my happiness, my right to find peace?" "They made no promises," Bracken said. "They are not preventing the end of the world. Those who know about your sacrifice appreciate you immeasurably. Your life may not be fair, but it is absolutely necessary.

Attending a funeral would leave the average person insane, if they truly believed that sooner or later they are also going to die.

Misery loves company. For the sake of your sanity, avoid entertaining her.

Boundaries to Consider I say no to things I don’t like. I say no to things that don’t contribute to my growth. I say no to things that rob me of valuable time. I spend time around healthy people. I reduce my interactions with people who drain my energy. I protect my energy against people who threaten my sanity. I practice positive self-talk. I allow myself to feel and not judge my feelings. I forgive myself when I make a mistake. I actively cultivate the best version of myself. I turn off my phone when appropriate. I sleep when I’m tired. I mind my business. I make tough decisions because they’re healthy for me. I create space for activities that bring me joy. I say yes to activities that interest me despite my anxiety about trying them. I experience things alone instead of waiting for the “right” people to join me.

Slowly but surely, I let the happiness back into my life. There were times when I psyched myself out and let happiness play peek-a-boo as I let despair, pain, hurt, stress and depression back into my life. When I had to start from ground zero, I didn’t think I was going to make it. I was a fallen warrior who didn’t have any armor for protection. All of my weapons of bravery, peace, sanity, and joy were stolen from me. I was abandoned without any protection from the world

The idea that my brains could be untangled, straightened out, and thus refashioned into a state of peace and sanity was a comforting fantasy. I often felt there was something wired weird in my brain. [...] I was dark, you might say. Moony. But I don't think I was really so hardhearted by nature. Had I been born into a different family, I might have grown up to act and feel perfectly normal.

She is both my madness and my sanity. She is the calm quiet eye of my storm. She is the whisper in the maddening din. She is a rare mix of dirty mind, exquisite beauty, curves that make your hands ache, deep heart and mischief that you want for your own. She is peace in the shape of a woman.

This touch of luxury was typical of the Base, though it was sometimes hard to explain its necessity to the folk back on Earth. Every man and woman in Clavius had cost a hundred thousand dollars in training and transport and housing; it was worth a little extra to maintain their peace of mind. This was not art for art’s sake, but art for the sake of sanity.

What chatty Madam Shpolyanski mentioned had conjured up Mira's image with unusual force. This was disturbing. Only in the detachment of an incurable complaint, in the sanity of near death, could one cope with this for a moment. In order to exist rationally, Pnin had taught himself...never to remember Mira Belochkin - not because...the evocation of a youthful love affair, banal and brief, threatened his peace of mind...but because, if one were quite sincere with oneself, no conscience, and hence no consciousness, could be expected to subsist in a world where such things as Mira's death were possible. One had to forget - because one could not live with the thought that this graceful, fragile, tender young woman with those eyes, that smile, those gardens and snows in the background, had been brought in a cattle car and killed by an injection of phenol into the heart, into the gentle heart one had heard beating under one's lips in the dusk of the past.

I sit and I listen to John cry and I wish there was something I could do to help him. I sit and I listen and I wish there was some way I could make it better. There is no hope for John, no hope at all. He could go to five hundred Clinics and spend ten years working the Twelve Steps and it wouldn't make a bit of fucking difference. He has been broken beyond repair, wounded beyond the point of healing, abused beyond the point of recovery. He will never know happiness or joy, security, or normalcy. He will never know pleasure, satisfaction, serenity, clarity, peace of mind or any semblance of sanity. He will never know or trust love. You poor, sick, sad Motherfucker. You will never know. I'm sorry.

A maiden was imprisoned in a stone tower. She loved a lord. Why? Ask the wind and the stars, ask the god of life; for no one else knows these things. And the lord was her friend and her lover; but time passed, and one fine day he saw someone else and his heart turned away. As a youth he loved the maiden. Often he called her his bliss and his dove, and her embrace was hot and heaving. He said, Give me your heart! And she did so. He said, May I ask you for something, my love? And she answered, in raptures, Yes. She gave him all, and yet he never thanked her. The other one he loved like a slave, like a madman and a beggar. Why? Ask the dust on the road and the falling leaves, ask life’s mysterious god; for no one else knows these things. She gave him nothing, no, nothing did she give him, and yet he thanked her. She said, Give me your peace and your sanity. And he only grieved that she didn’t ask for his life. And the maiden was put in the tower. . . .

World in Peril (The Sonnet) The world is in peril and security is out of the window. If now we don't be humans, what's the point of us! Humankind is in turmoil and anxiety is running amok. If now we don’t be responsible what's the point of us! Neighborhoods are wailing in fear and desperation. If now we don’t lend a hand what's the point of us! Communities are struggling in crippling uncertainty. If now we don't break narrowness what's the point of us! Nations are panting to sustain health and sanity. If now we don't rush to rescue what's the point of us! Nature is revolting to reclaim her kingdom. If now we don't make peace with her what's the point of us! Now is not the time for theorizing and criticizing. Forgetting argumentation we must stand as one people unbending.

To maintain any degree of sanity, we must believe that everything is interconnected on some level and to experience that level fully once in a while.

I am the catalyst of change!

They had reached, she felt, a sunny island where peace dwelt, sanity reigned and the sun forever shone, the blessed island of good boots.

WHO AM I? I have seven heavenly panels Leading up to a pointed sphere I’m multidimensional like a crystal And my center is never clear. I’m an inventor and pioneer. A mentor to my peers. But I'm not as sound as my shell reveals, Because I’m tormented by my fears - That may appear to be grounded But my insides are filled with tears. And the sadness is well-founded, From years and years Of traumatic experiences Compounded In the most demented Atmospheres. I talk but feel like nobody hears. Has reason disappeared? And, God, are you near? This is Giza’s 7th light force And I'm asking you to interfere. I can no longer walk amongst the blind and dead With open eyes and ears. I’m trying to maintain my sanity And to straighten up my veneer As I roll amongst the growing calamities Flowing on Earth’s severely trashed Frontier. Suzy Kassem, Rise Up and Salute the Sun (2010)

In writing I am fulfilling an obligation I have long felt to my comrades in the 1st Marine Division, all of whom suffered so much for our country. None came out unscathed. Many gave their lives, many their health, and some their sanity. All who survived will long remember the horror they would rather forget. But they suffered and they did their duty so a sheltered homeland can enjoy the peace that was purchased at such high cost. We owe those Marines a profound debt of gratitude.

we all tend to fill up our days with things that just have to be done and then run around desperately trying to do them all, while in the process not really enjoying much of the doing because we are too pressed for time, too rushed, too busy, too anxious? We can feel overwhelmed by our schedules, our responsibilities, and our roles at times, even when everything we are doing is important, even when we have chosen to do them all. We live immersed in a world of constant doing. Rarely are we in touch with who is doing the doing—or, put otherwise, with the world of being. To get back in touch with being is not that difficult. We only need to remind ourselves to be mindful. Moments of mindfulness are moments of peace and stillness, even in the midst of activity. When your whole life is driven by doing, formal meditation practice can provide a refuge of sanity and stability that can be used to restore some balance and perspective. It can be a way of stopping the headlong momentum of all the doing, giving yourself some time to dwell in deep relaxation and well-being and to remember who you are.

I finally understand what a person with a mental illness feels like, lives like, and how he fights for his sanity and his life every single day . . .This book has compassion, passion, understanding, and a force of will that will allow any person to become better and make peace with themselves. Great job.

ultimate peace of mind resides in being in the current moment

My anger had given me a backbone, but his peace had given me sanity.

Motherhood is a constant battle of going to bed early so you can catch up on sleep and staying awake so you can enjoy some peace and sanity!

Anyone to whom it is given in this anguish to open his heart, instead of contracting it, accepts the means of salvation in his heart. —Ludwig Wittgenstein

Recognizing our own craziness is, of course, the first step towards true sanity, Its the beginning our healing, peace, happiness and transcendence. Therefore... I'm crazy and I know it! Your turn...

Is most of your work out there?” she asked. “Yeah.” “Why didn’t you move out there?” “’Cause LA is insanity, filled with fruits and nuts. Indiana is sanity, meat and potatoes. I’m a meat and potatoes man.

As the Christian world is celebrating the Nativity once again, the roar of the guns, the cries of the dying and the wails of innocent people are heard on the battlefields. And an even greater holocaust threatens. Twice before in our time we have seen tyranny and lust for power thwarted by those who believe in the freedom of all mankind, only to see them circumvented in a brief few years. In America, we have only one thought at this Christmastime, to pray that the world again be restored to a sanity that will insure all peoples the right to think and live as they choose, to respect the beliefs of all and to help humanity live a better life in the short span allotted to us on this earth. In this aim we feel we are joined by all peoples who believe in the Divine Spirit. It is my sincere wish, in which I know I am joined by 150,000,000 other Americans, that we will be guided by the Supreme Being in restoring peace to the world, that all may live in hope and happiness.To all peoples of good will, I extend greetings of the Season.

We believe that cowardice is to blame for the world's injustices. We believe that peace is hard-won, that sometimes it is necessary to fight for peace. But more than that: We believe that justice is more important than peace. We believe in freedom from fear, in denying fear the power to influence our decisions. We believe in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. We believe in acknowledging fear and the extent to which it rules us. We believe in facing that fear no matter what the cost to our comfort, our happiness, or even to our sanity. We believe in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves. We believe, not in just bold words, but in bold deeds to match them. We believe that pain and death are better than cowardice and inaction because we believe in action. We do not believe in living comfortable lives. We do not believe that silence is useful. We do not believe in good manners. We do not believe in empty heads, empty mouths, or empty hands. We do not believe that learning to master violence encourages unnecessary violence. We do not believe that we should be allowed to stand idly by. We do not believe that any other virtue is more important than bravery.

I didn’t know what it meant to have a nervous breakdown. I’d heard people jokingly exaggerate that they’d had one. Until that moment on my bathroom floor, I had no concept. Then the frayed strands of my sanity that I’d fought so hard to keep together snapped in two, and I started to free fall into chaos. First, I screamed. I screamed and I screamed until I was hoarse. Then my screams turned over to cries of agony. Pain, both physical and emotional, consumed me. Will tried to console me, but it was useless. He panicked and called my parents. When they heard my sobs in the background, they told him to call the paramedics. So he did. By the time they arrived, I was spent of emotions. Instead, I lay motionless on the floor. They were a hazy blur of blue uniforms and soft voices. I could hear them calling my name from far off—like I was under the surface of water. But I couldn’t muster the strength to reply. I heard crying behind me. It must’ve been Will because one of the paramedics said, “Don’t worry, son, we’re gonna take good care of her.” Then I felt myself floating upwards as they put me on a gurney. I rattled and shook as they pulled me out of the house. The flashing lights hurt my eyes. But then a needle pierced my vein, bringing liquid peace to my soul."--Melanie

It does not even seem to enter our minds that there might be some incongruity in praying to the God of peace, the God Who told us to love one another as He had loved us, Who warned us that they who took the sword would perish by it, and at the same time planning to annihilate not thousands but millions of civilians and soldiers, men, women and children without discrimination, even with the almost infallible certainty of inviting the same annihilation for ourselves! It may make sense for a sick man to pray for health and then take medicine, but I fail to see any sense at all in his praying for health and then drinking poison. WHEN I pray for peace I pray God to pacify not only the Russians and the Chinese but above all my own nation and myself. When I pray for peace I pray to be protected not only from the Reds but also from the folly and blindness of my own country. When I pray for peace, I pray not only that the enemies of my country may cease to want war, but above all that my own country will cease to do the things that make war inevitable. In other words, when I pray for peace I am not just praying that the Russians will give up without a struggle and let us have our own way. I am praying that both we and the Russians may somehow be restored to sanity and learn how to work out our problems, as best we can, together, instead of preparing for global suicide.

It might come a time to not follow your passion, so to speak, although it must be prioritized. It may be the case that your passion will serve as the medic, your peace of mind, alongside a higher calling, with your higher calling being the point man.

Change - I beg you - change for your children - for their health, sanity and prosperity. Stop buying every single new nonessential technology - stop wasting electricity - stop wasting fuel on carefree long drives - stop voting candidates impressed by their charm.

Evie stayed, however, the silence spinning out until it seemed that the pounding of his heart must be audible. “Do you want to know what I think, Sebastian?” she finally asked. It took every particle of his will to keep his voice controlled. “Not particularly.” “I think that if I leave this room, you’re going to ring that bell again. But no matter how many times you ring, or how often I come running, you’ll never bring yourself to tell me what you really want.” Sebastian slitted his eyes open…a mistake. Her face was very close, her soft mouth only inches from his. “At the moment, all I want is some peace,” he grumbled. “So if you don’t mind—” Her lips touched his, warm silk and sweetness, and he felt the dizzying brush of her tongue. A floodgate of desire opened, and he was drowning in undiluted pleasure, more powerful than anything he had known before. He lifted his hands as if to push her head away, but instead his trembling fingers curved around her skull, holding her to him. The fiery curls of her hair were compressed beneath his palms as he kissed her with ravenous urgency, his tongue searching the winsome delight of her mouth. Sebastian was mortified to discover that he was gasping like an untried boy when Evie ended the kiss. Her lips were rosy and damp, her freckles gleaming like gold dust against the deep pink of her cheeks. “I also think,” she said unevenly, “that you’re going to lose our bet.” Recalled to sanity by a flash of indignation, Sebastian scowled. “Do you think I’m in any condition to pursue other women? Unless you intend to bring someone to my bed, I’m hardly going to—” “You’re not going to lose the bet by sleeping with another woman,” Evie said. There was a glitter of deviltry in her eyes as she reached up to the neckline of her gown and deliberately began to unfasten the row of buttons. Her hands trembled just a little. “You’re going to lose it with me.” Sebastian watched incredulously as she stood and shed the dressing gown. She was naked, the tips of her breasts pointed and rosy in the cool air. She had lost weight, but her breasts were still round and lovely, and her hips still flared generously from the neat inward curves of her waist. As his gaze swept to the triangle of red hair between her thighs, a swell of acute lust rolled through him. He sounded shaken, even to his own ears. “You can’t make me lose the bet. That’s cheating.” “I never promised not to cheat,” Evie said cheerfully, shivering as she slipped beneath the covers with him. “Damn it, I’m not going to cooperate. I—” His breath hissed between his teeth as he felt the tender length of her body press against his side, the springy brush of her private curls on his hip as she slid one of her legs between his. He jerked his head away as she tried to kiss him. “I can’t…Evie…” His mind searched cagily for a way to dissuade her. “I’m too weak.” Ardent and determined, Evie grasped his head and turned his face to hers. “Poor darling,” she murmured, smiling. “Don’t worry. I’ll be gentle with you.” “Evie,” he said hoarsely, aroused and infuriated and pleading, “I have to prove that I can last three months without—no, don’t do that. Damn you, Evie—

Here is the sweet paradox in how God works. He blesses those who admit that they need help: The poor in spirit are blessed (Matthew 5: 3). Sanity has a deep awareness, I need help. I can’t do life right on my own. Someone outside me must intervene. The sanity of honest humility finds mercy, life, peace, and strength. By contrast, saying we don’t need help keeps us stuck on that hamster wheel of making excuses and blaming others. The end result isn’t life and peace; it’s self-righteousness, self-justification, alienation, and bitterness.

I am an artist. And An artist is simply a man who is pulled along by a river: on one side sanity lies, and the other madness, yet he will find no peace on either, as the current of his art drags him away from the everyday life on it's banks, where others watch, unable to help him until he reaches the immensity of the ocean.

Honestly, I couldn’t remember the last time I asked God to fill me with joy. Or to create a joyful spirit in my children. Goodness knows I’ve asked for peace and sanity and obedience. I’ve prayed for healing and wisdom. I’ve worshiped the Lord and studied His Word. But joy? How in the world did I forget about the beautiful, good, and pleasing gift of joy?

As Linda says again and again, the simple life isn't the easy life. Each soul here is enormously courageous. The conflicts in their lives have not been trivial. It's taken most of them a great deal of time, introspection and explanation to arrive at their chosen sanity. They are intrepid explorers, leaving the security of the known for the hoped-for brighter tomorrow.

Why this cult of wilderness? Why the surly hatred of progress and development, the churlish resistance to all popular improvements? Very well, a fair question, but it’s been asked and answered a thousand times already; enough books to drive a man stark naked mad have dealt in detail with the question. There are many answers, all good, each sufficient. Peace is often mentioned; beauty; spiritual refreshment, whatever that means; re-creation for the soul, whatever that is; escape; novelty, the delight of something different; truth and understanding and wisdom—commendable virtues in any man, anytime; ecology and all that, meaning the salvation of variety, diversity, possibility and potentiality, the preservation of the genetic reservoir, the answers to questions that we have not yet even learned to ask, a connection to the origin of things, an opening into the future, a source of sanity for the present—all true, all wonderful, all more than enough to answer such a dumb dead degrading question as “Why wilderness?” To which, nevertheless, I shall append one further answer anyway: because we like the taste of freedom; because we like the smell of danger.

I am charged with guarding sanity, not morality. If you want to stay together, do not split. If you want peace, do not start wars. If you want to avoid genocide, do not wipe out an alien species. But if these are not your highest values, then you may well end up sacrificing them. What you are willing to trade off, may end up traded away - be you warned! But if that is acceptable to you, then so be it.

John Wooden’s advice to his players says it: Change the definition of success. “Success is peace of mind, which is a direct result of self-satisfaction in knowing you made the effort to do your best to become the best that you are capable of becoming.” “Ambition,” Marcus Aurelius reminded himself, “means tying your well-being to what other people say or do . . . Sanity means tying it to your own actions.

Phaethon asked: “Do you think there is something wrong with the Sophotechs? We are Manorials, father! We let Rhadamanthus control our finances and property, umpire our disputes, teach our children, design our thoughtscapes, and even play matchmaker to find us wives and husbands!” “Son, the Sophotechs may be sufficient to advise the Parliament on laws and rules. Laws are a matter of logic and common sense. Specially designed human-thinking versions, like Rhadamanthus, can tell us how to fulfill our desires and balance our account books. Those are questions of strategy, of efficient allocation of resources and time. But the Sophotechs, they cannot choose our desires for us. They cannot guide our culture, our values, our tastes. That is a question of the spirit.” “Then what would you have us do? Would you change our laws?” “Our mores, not our laws. There are many things which are repugnant, deadly to the spirit, and self-destructive, but which law should not forbid. Addiction, self-delusion, self-destruction, slander, perversion, love of ugliness. How can we discourage such things without the use of force? It was in response to this need that the College of Hortators evolved. Peacefully, by means of boycotts, public protests, denouncements, and shunnings, our society can maintain her sanity against the dangers to our spirit, to our humanity, to which such unboundried liberty, and such potent technology, exposes us.” (...) But Phaethon certainly did not want to hear a lecture, not today. “Why are you telling me all this? What is the point?” “Phaethon, I will let you pass through those doors, and, once through, you will have at your command all the powers and perquisites I myself possess. The point of my story is simple. The paradox of liberty of which you spoke before applies to our entire society. We cannot be free without being free to harm ourselves. Advances in technology can remove physical dangers from our lives, but, when they do, the spiritual dangers increase. By spiritual danger I mean a danger to your integrity, your decency, your sense of life. Against those dangers I warn you; you can be invulnerable, if you choose, because no spiritual danger can conquer you without your own consent. But, once they have your consent, those dangers are all-powerful, because no outside force can come to your aid. Spiritual dangers are always faced alone. It is for this reason that the Silver-Gray School was formed; it is for this reason that we practice the exercise of self-discipline. Once you pass those doors, my son, you will be one of us, and there will be nothing to restrain you from corruption and self-destruction except yourself. “You have a bright and fiery soul, Phaethon, a power to do great things; but I fear you may one day unleash such a tempest of fire that you may consume yourself, and all the world around you.

Sanity has a deep awareness, I need help. I can’t do life right on my own. Someone outside me must intervene. The sanity of honest humility finds mercy, life, peace, and strength. By contrast, saying we don’t need help keeps us stuck on that hamster wheel of making excuses and blaming others. The end result isn’t life and peace; it’s self-righteousness, self-justification, alienation, and bitterness. Chapter 3 How Does That Shoe Fit?

If you believe in learning, you believe in inquiry. If you believe in education, you believe in literacy. If you believe in knowledge, you believe in curiosity. If you believe in understanding, you believe in practicality. If you believe in reason, you believe in sanity. If you believe in wisdom, you believe in sagacity. If you believe in dreams, you believe in fantasy. If you believe in diligence, you believe in prosperity. If you believe in exellence, you believe in mastery. If you believe in brilliance, you believe in longevity. If you believe in wealth, you believe in luxury. If you believe in justice, you believe in liberty. If you believe in tolerance, you believe in equality. If you believe in respect, you believe in courtesy. If you believe in manners, you believe in civility. If you believe in honor, you believe in decency. If you believe in culture, you believe in history. If you believe in tradition, you believe in stability. If you believe in order, you believe in harmony. If you believe in time, you believe in eternity. If you believe in fate, you believe in destiny. If you believe in life, you believe in reality. If you believe in permanance, you believe in infinity. If you believe in virtue, you believe in morality. If you believe in peace, you believe in humanity. If you believe in love, you believe in divinity. If you believe in God, you believe in spirituality. If you believe in faith, you believe in expectancy. If you believe in religion, you believe in sanctity. If you believe in Heaven, you believe in perpetuity. If you believe in the afterlife, you believe in immortality.

It is the reality of the kingdom of God—and the gospel purpose in it to glorify Christ—that should comfort Christians today, not the rising and falling of popular opinion or the ways of the Supreme Court or the majority votes in the Congress or the moral sanity of the president. All those people are sinners. We can root for them and persuade them and pray for them and hope for them—but we cannot hope in them, because none of them is not a sinner. Only Jesus Christ’s kingdom comes with perfect grace and peace and justice. And only Jesus Christ’s kingdom will remain.

widespread. Some states go so far as to forcibly sterilize people with certain disabilities. Some prohibit marriage for the genetically disabled, for fear of procreating hereditary conditions like mine. Visibly disabled people are actually barred from appearing in public in cities such as Columbus, Ohio—Dad’s hometown—until 1972, and Chicago until 1974, under what are collectively called the “ugly” laws because they target anyone perceived as unattractive, for being a disturbance of the peace. The movement to change all this and more is rising in discrete pockets all over, inspired by Black civil rights. Closer to

WE BELIEVE that cowardice is to blame for the world’s injustices. WE BELIEVE that peace is hard-won, that sometimes it is necessary to fight for peace. But more than that: WE BELIEVE that justice is more important than peace. WE BELIEVE in freedom from fear, in denying fear the power to influence our decisions. WE BELIEVE in ordinary acts of bravery, in the courage that drives one person to stand up for another. WE BELIEVE in acknowledging fear and the extent to which it rules us. WE BELIEVE in facing that fear no matter what the cost to our comfort, our happiness, or even our sanity. WE BELIEVE in shouting for those who can only whisper, in defending those who cannot defend themselves. WE BELIEVE, not just in bold words but in bold deeds to match them. WE BELIEVE that pain and death are better than cowardice and inaction, because WE BELIEVE in action. WE DO NOT BELIEVE in living comfortable lives. WE DO NOT BELIEVE that silence is useful. WE DO NOT BELIEVE in good manners. WE DO NOT BELIEVE in limiting the fullness of life. WE DO NOT BELIEVE in empty heads, empty mouths, or empty hands. WE DO NOT BELIEVE that learning to master violence encourages unnecessary violence. WE DO NOT BELIEVE that we should be allowed to stand idly by. WE DO NOT BELIEVE that any other virtue is more important than bravery.

Women of the world, our time has come! Our leaders have taken us down a road of destruction. Aggressive, masculine reflexes have created more violence and rage, have left us with little hope for remedy in the Middle East or anywhere else. Our hope of survival lies in honoring the feminine, that which a patriarchal society has tried vehemently to squelch. Their legacy has left us living in a deluded universe, a world that worships a fixed and righteous view. In order to feel secure, we only welcome change that men in power determine for us. Our patriarchal religions are prime examples of this, creating a one-sided world gone from static, brittle believes. Let us remember that patriarchy is founded on division not unity. We concentrate on the differences instead of giving importance to the similarities. There is good and bad, there is black and white. We are constantly in a state of opposites. Where does unity come into the picture? It is no wonder women have been seen as evil, an abhorrent influence that must be destroyed. Intuition, psychic energy, spiritual force, the unknown, creation itself…merely feminine mockeries of sanity—or so it has been claimed by religious men in power. Women have died at the stake for challenging such beliefs, and to this day dogmatic religious views have persisted in undermining the feminine. Therefore it is up to us to develop a balance between the feminine and the masculine. That’s the formula for a stable democracy. Wisdom and compassion working together will swing the pendulum away from aggression and fear toward peace and conciliation. I’ll venture to say it’s already begun. We have reached a critical mass. Now the energy of woman is being powerfully unleashed. Negative powers have reached levels where enough of us are reacting against them to instigate change. The critical mass that we have reached cannot be turned back, and the force of it will literally shift the energy of our planet, creating a new paradigm.

The kitchen. La cucina, the true mother country, this warm cave of the good witch deep in the desolate land of loneliness, with pots of sweet potions bubbling over the fire, a cavern of magic herbs, rosemary and thyme and sage and oregano, balm of lotus that brought sanity to lunatics, peace to the troubled, joy to the joyless, this small twenty-by-twenty world, the altar a kitchen range, the magic circle a checkered tablecloth where the children fed, the old children, lured back to their beginnings, the taste of mother's milk still haunting their memories, fragrance in the nostrils, eyes brightening, the wicked world receding as the old mother witch sheltered her brood from the wolves outside.

Does the grief you are experiencing seem unreal? Are you expecting your loved one at any minute to come walking through the door? Do you feel that your life has come to an end without him or her? Are you at a bottomless abyss, feeling out of control? Have you lost trust in your ability to continue on? These feelings and more are not unusual for many mourners. They are common characteristics of the sudden confrontation with change after the death of a loved one. You seem to be losing your sanity; it just doesn’t make sense. All of this is compounded by a series of obstacles: sudden feelings of abandonment, inability to find a good listener, lack of confidence to deal with the future, and lack of reliable information to help ease the searing pain of loss. There

And the summer came, the New York summer, which is like no summer anywhere. The heat and the noise began their destruction of nerves and sanity and private lives and love affairs. The air was full of baseball scores and bad news and people, made more hostile by the heat. It was not possible in this city, as it had been for Eric in Paris, to take a long and peaceful walk at any hour of the day or night, dropping in for a drink at a bistro or flopping oneself down at a sidewalk cafe- the half-dozen grim parodies of sidewalk cafes to be found in New York were not made for flopping. It was a city without an oasis, run entirely, insofar, at least as human perception could tell, for money; and its citizens seemed to have lost any sense of their right to renew themselves. Whoever, in New York, attempted to cling to this right, lived in New York in exile- in exile from the life around him; and this, paradoxically, had the effect of placing him in perpetual danger of being forever banished from any sense of himself.

But why, the questioner insists, why do people like you pretend to love uninhabited country so much? Why this cult of wilderness? Why the surly hatred of progress and development, the churlish resistance to all popular improvements? Very well, a fair question, but it’s been asked and answered a thousand times already; enough books to drive a man stark naked mad have dealt in detail with the question. There are many answers, all good, each sufficient. Peace is often mentioned; beauty; spiritual refreshment, whatever that means; re-creation for the soul, whatever that is; escape; novelty, the delight of something different; truth and understanding and wisdom—commendable virtues in any man, anytime; ecology and all that, meaning the salvation of variety, diversity, possibility and potentiality, the preservation of the genetic reservoir, the answers to questions that we have not yet even learned to ask, a connection to the origin of things, an opening into the future, a source of sanity for the present—all true, all wonderful, all more than enough to answer such a dumb dead degrading question as “Why wilderness?” To which, nevertheless, I shall append one further answer anyway: because we like the taste of freedom; because we like the smell of danger

But why, the questioner insists, why do people like you pretend to love uninhabited country so much? Why this cult of wilderness? Why the surly hatred of progress and development, the churlish resistance to all popular improvements? Very well, a fair question, but it’s been asked and answered a thousand times already; enough books to drive a man stark naked mad have dealt in detail with the question. There are many answers, all good, each sufficient. Peace is often mentioned; beauty; spiritual refreshment, whatever that means; re-creation for the soul, whatever that is; escape; novelty, the delight of something different; truth and understanding and wisdom—commendable virtues in any man, anytime; ecology and all that, meaning the salvation of variety, diversity, possibility and potentiality, the preservation of the genetic reservoir, the answers to questions that we have not yet even learned to ask, a connection to the origin of things, an opening into the future, a source of sanity for the present—all true, all wonderful, all more than enough to answer such a dumb dead degrading question as “Why wilderness?” To which, nevertheless, I shall append one further answer anyway: because we like the taste of freedom; because we like the smell of danger.

If the past is a foreign country, it is a shockingly violent one. It is easy to forget how dangerous life used to be, how deeply brutality was once woven into the fabric of daily existence. Cultural memory pacifies the past, leaving us with pale souvenirs whose bloody origins have been bleached away. A woman donning a cross seldom reflects that this instrument of torture was a common punishment in the ancient world; nor does a person who speaks of a whipping boy ponder the old practice of flogging an innocent child in place of a misbehaving prince. We are surrounded by signs of the depravity of our ancestors’ way of life, but we are barely aware of them. Just as travel broadens the mind, a literal-minded tour of our cultural heritage can awaken us to how differently they did things in the past. In a century that began with 9/11, Iraq, and Darfur, the claim that we are living in an unusually peaceful time may strike you as somewhere between hallucinatory and obscene. I know from conversations and survey data that most people refuse to believe it.1 In succeeding chapters I will make the case with dates and data. But first I want to soften you up by reminding you of incriminating facts about the past that you have known all along. This is not just an exercise in persuasion. Scientists often probe their conclusions with a sanity check, a sampling of real-world phenomena to reassure themselves they haven’t overlooked some flaw in their methods and wandered into a preposterous conclusion. The vignettes in this chapter are a sanity check on the data to come.

When you let yourself be a pessimistic forecaster or your own private bully, it’s hard to find inner peace.

Did he regret the change? Did Khârn, the most faithful of all Angron’s sons, wish for things to be different? Maybe. Except that he had never known his master undamaged. He had never seen him in his youth, before the Nails had been inserted, and so his loyalty had always been given to a broken angel. And after that, once he’d been given the same bad medicine as his master, it had been easier just to wash any doubt away with fresh blood. When you killed a man, a woman, a child – when you ended a fragile flame of life, when you took away the chance of any further development, of happiness, of sadness, or selfishness or vice or sainthood or intellect – when you did that, in that one moment, the torment ceased. Just a fragment, an atom of peace amid an eternity of rage. But at the same time, in that fleeting glimpse of sanity, you could recall everything you once were. You could remember discourse, and laughter, even pity. And so you had to start again, to move to the next victim, the next challenge, because that knowledge was the worst goad of all. To kill.

Perhaps it was foolhardy to suppose that in real life we could undo what had been done, cancel our knowledge of evil, uninvent our weapons, stow away what remained in some safe hiding place. With the devastation of World War II still grimly visible, its stench hardly gone from the air, the community of nations started to fragment, its members splitting into factions, resorting to threats and, finally, to violence and to war. The certainty of peace had proved little more than a fragile dream. “And so the great democracies triumphed,” Sir Winston Churchill wrote later. “And so were able to resume the follies that had nearly cost them their life.” Prophetic as he was, Churchill did not foresee the awesome extremes to which these follies would extend: diplomacy negotiated within a balance of nuclear terror; resistance tactics translated into guidelines for fanatics and terrorists; intelligence agencies evolving technologically to a level where they could threaten the very principles of the nations they were created to defend. One way or another, such dragon’s teeth were sown in the secret activities of World War II. Questions of utmost gravity emerged: Were crucial events being maneuvered by elite secret power groups? Were self-aggrandizing careerists cynically displacing principle among those entrusted with the stewardship of intelligence? What had happened over three decades to an altruistic force that had played so pivotal a role in saving a free world from annihilation or slavery? In the name of sanity, the past now had to be seen clearly. The time had come to open the books.

In the Bible, God tells us what will bring us rest and peace in Him: Go to church every Sunday. Read the Bible and pray. Sing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs. Give thanks in all things. Repent of unkindness, pride, and irritability. Love others. Rejoice always. If all that sounds unreasonable, then we must also repent of our unbelief. Basically, we have to trust God and believe that He knows what He’s talking about when He tells us these things. We can’t claim to need something more than or different from what God says we need. He made us; He knows.

Time to Defect (The Sonnet) It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of passport to the side of heartport, from the side of prison to the side of reason, from the side of nationality to the side of sanity, from the side of myopia to the side of motion, from the side of crutches to the side of conscience, from the side of coffins to the side of character, from the side of bombs to the side of backbone, from the side of barbwire to the side of brainwire, from the side of flag to the side of fervor, from the side of parasites to the side of paragons, from the side of pacemakers to the side of peacemakers, from the side of ideology to the side of illumination. It's time to defect, my friend - from the side of caves to the side of kind, from the side of tribe to the side of life.

People know very well what they are doing and why they are doing it. You can’t compete with them by being as bad they are. By arguing or reasoning with them especially when they think they are smart by what they are doing to you. Sometimes they provoke you because they want to fight you. They don’t want to win the fight, but they know that fight will turn you to be like them. They are setting you up for failure. All you must do for your sanity just choose peace and walk away. Fighting them will make you as bad they are and will turn you into an evil person that you are not.

You don’t lose your sanity for anyone. Your peace of mind is valuable. You don’t wreck your brain trying to figure out why he did what he did or when or how.

He’s circling your table, ready to sit. So keep this in mind: the stakes are high. This is your life we’re talking about. This is your now. This is your future. This is your family. This is your sanity. Your peace. Your success. Your calling. Your destiny. This is everything God has made you to be. The Devil wants to destroy you. He has no mercy, and he has all the time in the world.

Naskar not Nascar (The Sonnet) Naskar is an alter ego, Naskar is a calling, a madness bigger than sanity, not chained to one being. Even Abi is no match for Naskar, Abi will perish, not Naskar. Naskar is a chemical catastrophe, priming humans as kind thunder. Naskar is factory of humanitarians, imbued with wonders against malice. Muscle up your heart, heart up your brain, uncontaminated by leanings of prejudice. Nascar is a race, Naskar is a journey, voyage of sapiens ushering in humanity. Surpassing constraints of bigotry, Naskar is Manifest Humanity.

Love is always the way to a better world for all.

The cross of Christ gave power to the powerless. It gave strength to the weak. It brought salvation to repentant sinners. It brought hope to the hopeless. It gave peace to troubled hearts. What was true then it is still true today.

I know what I am. I left the better part of my sanity on battlefields all over France and Spain. I am a bastard, regardless of whose bastard, and I will fare best if I maintain a mundane little existence here in the most isolated reaches of society, where I can stink of horses and spend most of my day outdoors. I have setbacks, as you call them. I never know when a sound or a word or a memory will rise up and shoot me out of my saddle. Sometimes I drink too much, and often I want to drink too much. But I am human, Emmie. I will not shackle myself to a woman who feels only pity and gratitude and affectionate tolerance for me. I won’t.” “So what do you want of me?” Emmie asked, bewildered. He gave a bitter snort of laughter. “A fairy tale. I wanted a goddamned fairy tale, where you love me and we have Winnie here with us and more children, and they tear all over the property on their ponies and the table is noisy with laughter and teasing and the house always smells wonderful because you are my wife and the genie in our kitchen. On the bad nights, you are there for me to love and to love me, and the bad nights gradually don’t come so often. I want—” “What?” Emmie asked, her throat constricting with pain. “Devlin, what?” “Just that,” he said tiredly. “I want that small, mundane, bucolic existence. A wife, children, love, and a shared life here at Rosecroft. That is my idea of what makes peace meaningful. It can’t be built on pity or convenience or simple affection, Em. Not with me. I’ll run you off in less than two years, but we’ll have a child by then, so you’ll stay, and next thing, we’ll have separate bedrooms, and the brandy decanter will seldom stay full for long. I won’t live that way, and I won’t let it happen to you or our children either.” Another

She was home and peace and safety and light. She was what every weary soldier had ever vainly sought in the arms of a whore, a tavern brawl, or a tankard of ale. She was the laughter of children and the reason old men would smile in remembrance. She was his heart, his soul, his sanity, and having finally found her, he was never, ever going to let her go. When

Motherhood is a constant battle of wanting to go to bed early so you can catch up on sleep and wanting to stay awake so you can enjoy some peace and sanity!

Emotions can cause you to lose your mind, your sanity and most importantly your peace. The wisest person can get sidetracked if they allow their emotions to dictate their decisions. Farren

over the horizon.

comes the next lesson: “From now on, you will catch people.” The Greek words translate more literally as: “From now on, you will revive people, bring them back to life.”   He is telling us: From now on, you will go out into the deep, the dangerous, where people don’t believe anything, are lost, are in turmoil, are surrounded by sharks. Go out into the deep and go get them. That is the mission of the disciple. I will send you into all the depths, starting with next door. There are many fish out there who are hungry for God, who are lost without God. Perhaps more than ever before, we are a disintegrating society, a broken civilization. The words of Jesus tell us: Help them find God, help them find peace, help them find joy and sanity. The assumption is that we find sanity first so there is a sane place for them to come.

We are the road that winds down a sound mind, then slips into the sea.

I became insane, with long intervals of horrible sanity- Edgar Allan Poe

Maybe it’s time to reeducate some people in our lives with clearly stated, gracefully implemented, consistently kept boundaries. It’s for the sake of your sanity that you draw necessary boundaries. It’s for the sake of stability that you stay consistent with those boundaries.

It’s for the sake of your sanity that you draw necessary boundaries. It’s for the sake of stability that you stay consistent with those boundaries.

Naskar not Nascar (The Sonnet) Naskar is an alter ego, Naskar is a calling, a madness bigger than sanity, not chained to one being. Even Abi is no match for Naskar, Abi will perish, not Naskar. Naskar is a chemical catastrophe, priming humans as kind thunder. Naskar is factory of humanitarians, imbued with wonders against malice. Muscle up your heart, heart up your brain, uncontaminated by leanings of prejudice. Nascar is a race, Naskar is a journey, voyage of sapiens ushering in humanity. Surpassing constraints of archaic bigotry, Naskar is Manifest Humanity.

What happens when our sanity leaves home? WARS!

But no matter what is going on, there has to be something ultimately at stake. A prize, survival, sanity, success, even peace of mind.

PEOPLE TALK OF FREEDOM - FREEDOM DOES NOT EXIST IN THE HUMAN WORLD ! ALL HUMAN BEINGS HAVE ACCUSTOMED THEMSELVES TO THEIR UNFREEDOM WHICH THEY PURCHASED AS FREEDOM , JUST AS THEY HAVE ACCUSTOMED THEMSELVES TO ANY EVIL , THE GREATEST OF WHICH IS SANITY - FREEDOM IS A CRIME OF THOUGHT TO ALL MEN - AND THEY HAVE PERFECTED THE FALSIFICATION OF REALITY ON SO LARGE A SCALE THAT THE TRUTH HAS BEEN SCARED AWAY ; AND WHO NEEDS TRUTH IN WHAT CONTAINS THE TRUTH AND NOTHING BUT THE TRUTH AS THE VILENESS OF DECEPTION OF HER , AS THE ASSIDUOUS EXCOGITATION BY WHICH THE EXCOMMUNICATION AND FEMALE VIOLATION OF HER HAVE BEEN EFFECTED AND PERFECTED INSTEAD TO DESTROY ANY VESTIGES OF HER BEING ONCE EXTANT AND TO MAKE HER LOOK MISSHAPEN AND MUTILATED SO THAT SHE CANNOT BE KNOWN AS TRUTH ANY LONGER - FOR THE TRUTH IN HER BEAUTEOUSNESS CANNOT STAND HOLY MEN NEAR HER WHO MURDERED AND SHOT HER DEAD AT CLOSE RANGE IN THE HUMAN WORLD AS THEIR UTMOST MASTERY LONG , LONG , LONG AGO ! DOES THE PENITENT CRAVE RESURRECTION ? IF SHE DID , HOW COULD SHE BE A PENITENT THEN, DESIRING BUT TO CLEANSE HERSELF OF MANKIND AND TO RANSOM HERSELF FROM THE UNCLEAN SACREDNESS OF ALL MEN AND TO WITHSTAND THE BETRAYAL TO EXISTENCE WHICH HAS BECOME A DISEASE , DESTITUTE OF FRIENDS SHE IS AND HER SEASON IS PAST ! , SEEKING WATERS UNDEFILED TO SWIM AND BE DROWNED IN FOR HER TO RETURN TO WHERE PEACE AND FREEDOM REIGN UNPERTURBED...

artists and lovers... maybe, you'll lose a little sleep and the sanity will waver… but you'll trade it for the dreams. for the bleeding of the colors and the escape from time. and maybe the peace will take turns with the chaos, but this love will touch. taste. feel. like fire… and your soul will stir and your heart will race and the art will breathe and the awakenings will come again and again. and just. the existence of them… who they are… how they are… it will create all those hurricanes that you feel in your chest walls. and that's how you'll know. because if they are for you… you'll feel it in your chest walls.

You are sanity, you are sentience, You are the lifeforce of destiny. You are conscience, you are concord, You are the end of animosity.

Love and time It was as if time had gone on a vacation, At least it was not there where I was now, Because there I could not feel her sensation, So it was a world without her beauty, thus a world without love, Time appeared to transition from one moment to another, But I could not feel its presence, For a while I thought I was in a world, that was some other, As my heart did not experience life’s romance, In her absence time appeared to be on a vacation, The world seemed to have come to a sudden halt, Without her, world’s charms had lost all their traction, And I wondered whether it was my or time’s fault, Everything and everyone moved, and life happened just like any day, But to me somehow time appeared to be somewhere else, Because it felt it was not here today, And maybe only her presence can convince me it is false, Maybe time has drowned in the past, Forgotten somewhere in her infinite memories, And my mind exclusively recreates moments, only from the past, And convinces the heart to keep beating for the sake of her old stories, Or is it that the present is an illusion of shadows, Shadows from the past, her and my past, And the present only from this past borrows, So I am in this illusion of timelessness cast, But whatever it might be, Whether time is here or somewhere else, She, her memories; are intact within me, And my every heartbeat still says, there cannot be anyone else, So, there is no need to seek time that has vanished suddenly, Because I have installed her memories everywhere, And now time has left me in my peaceful corner knowingly, So I believe, time is somewhere else, but not here, not here, And my love Irma, let me escape with you into this corner, Where time has no business, And just be your lover, And let that be my only business, For time will then lose its pride, someday, in that somewhere, where it has fled, And it will offer us it's rarest gift of eternity, Because my love, a rose by its own thorn is never hurt or bled, So instead of time, we shall live in the love’s sanity, Where time serves no purpose, Because everything exists for everything, There life offers no fake pose, It is then that love becomes a true virtue and not just a thing!

Love and time It was as if time had gone on a vacation, At least it was not there where I was now, Because there I could not feel her sensation, So it was a world without her beauty, thus a world without love, Time appeared to transition from one moment to another, But I could not feel its presence, For a while I thought I was in a world, that was some other, As my heart did not experience life’s romance, In her absence time appeared to be on a vacation, The world seemed to have come to a sudden halt, Without her, world’s charms had lost all their traction, And I wondered whether it was my or time’s fault, Everything and everyone moved, and life happened just like any day, But to me somehow time appeared to be somewhere else, Because it felt it was not here today, And maybe only her presence can convince me it is false, Maybe time has drowned in the past, Forgotten somewhere in her infinite memories, And my mind still recreates only moments from the past, And convinces the heart to keep beating for the sake of her old stories, Or is it that the present is an illusion of shadows, Shadows from the past, her and my past, And the present only from this past borrows, So I am in this illusion of timelessness cast, But whatever it might be, Whether time is here or somewhere else, She, her memories; are intact within me, And my every heartbeat still says, there cannot be anyone else, So, there is no need to seek time that has vanished suddenly, Because I have installed her memories everywhere, And now time has left me in my peaceful corner knowingly, So I believe, time is somewhere else, but not here, not here, And my love Irma, let me escape with you into this corner, Where time has no business, And just be your lover, And let that be my only business, For time will then lose its pride, someday, in that somewhere, where it has fled, And it will offer us it's rarest gift of eternity, Because my love, a rose by its own thorn is never hurt or bled, So instead of time, we shall live in the love’s sanity, Where time serves no purpose, Because everything exists for everything, There life offers no fake pose, It is then that love becomes a true virtue and not just a thing!

that alley stood like a thief stealing time, the world in front of me, looking straight at me, a beautiful crime which could only be punishable by death, hung as a thief for the crime of defiling minutes, 'for what reason might the defendant commit such a crime?' the only judge asks 'for the ultimate reason, for beauty, for passing, for eternity…..for my love had gone beyond madness beyond sanity beyond every attribute of gods earth sat absorbed in self destruction in sweet love in chaotic peace with all that glorious vision and insight swimming headlong through the mind, taking up the bag in the morning the tragic sky casting sideways glances below trees pulling on shoes those ghost-like fingers the holy emptiness seemingly there and immediate yet already gone hopeless and clumsy now rife with thick dust kicking up the death and dust of the living Sun, 'I'll write' but I didn't care maddened, more mad than ever, pure lonesomeness caught mid stride down the road, a tumultuous storm of present wanting to be all, all at once, the postman, the undertaker, the bus driver, the seaman, the fruit picker, the bandit, and hold every moment know it breath it, steal a some milk white steed and melt with anyone in the Mexican sun, prolongation of eternity the cold stare of the countless eyes conscious of every step given up to that endless facade of manners of proper and well delivered of simplicity in silence and fading slowly lulled gently back into that corner that lonely town of buried thought, high above in some lofty proscenium of sky and weeping like a child

that alley stood like a thief stealing time, the world in front of me, looking straight at me, a beautiful crime which could only be punishable by death, hung as a thief for the crime of defiling minutes, 'for what reason might the defendant commit such a crime?' the only judge asks 'for the ultimate reason, for beauty, for passing, for eternity…..for my love had gone beyond madness beyond sanity beyond every attribute of gods earth sat absorbed in self destruction in sweet love in chaotic peace with all that glorious vision and insight swimming headlong through the mind, taking up the bag in the morning the tragic sky casting sideways glances below trees pulling on shoes those ghost-like fingers the holy emptiness seemingly there and immediate yet already gone hopeless and clumsy now rife with thick dust kicking up the death and dust of the living Sun, 'I'll write' but I didn't care maddened, more mad than ever, pure lonesomeness caught mid stride down the road, a tumultuous storm of present wanting to be all, all at once, the postman, the undertaker, the bus driver, the seaman, the fruit picker, the bandit, and hold every moment know it breathe it, steal a some milk white steed and melt with anyone in the Mexican sun, prolongation of eternity the cold stare of the countless eyes conscious of every step given up to that endless facade of manners of proper and well delivered of simplicity in silence and fading slowly lulled gently back into that corner that lonely town of buried thought, high above in some lofty proscenium of sky and weeping like a child

Our lives have become incredibly complicated, with stress relentlessly undermining our health and sanity. In other words, the yogic work of self-transformation encounters similar challenges to bygone ages, which had their own pathologies. Yoga is a well-trodden path to inner freedom, peace, and happiness. It puts us in touch with what Abraham Maslow called “being values,” without which our lives are superficial and ultimately unfulfilling.2 Yoga offers answers to the fundamental questions of human existence: Who am I? Why am I here? Where do I go? What must I do? Whenever we pause long enough in the midst of our hectic lives, these questions surface from oblivion. When they do, few people have plausible answers for them. But without such answers, we are merely adrift. Yoga can provide direction today as efficiently as it did five or more millennia ago. It is for everyone. Its various approaches are not only not antithetical but positively complementary. They make up a spectrum of possible engagement of the yogic path to liberation. Whatever our particular temperament or orientation, we can find a resonating yogic approach that will lead us out of confusion and unhappiness. Shri Yogendra, founder-president of the Yoga Institute in Santa Cruz (a suburb of Bombay, India) addressed the notion that ancient Yoga is unsuitable for modern life as part of a larger pattern of prejudice: . . . a busy man regards it as a waste of time which he could utilize to better purpose; the normally healthy man believes he has no need for it; the non-conformist and the unconventional dislike the very idea of following anything which demands their loyalty or devotion; the youth believes it is for the old, and the luxury-loving persons could not think of being simple, while many opine that Yoga and modern life are self-contradictory and need not be attempted.3 These excuses say nothing about Yoga but everything about the ordinary individual, who is always looking to preserve the status quo. Yoga, of course, actively undermines conventional patterns of existence, at least insofar as they prevent inner freedom, peace, and happiness. In that sense it is a radical teaching, which goes to the root (radix) of the problem: lethargy, fear of change, prejudice, self-delusion—all of which can be summarized as ignorance (avidyā). The whole purpose of Yoga is to remove ignorance, which is in the way of enlightenment. Therefore Yoga speaks to every single unillumined person in the world.

Sapiosultan (The Sonnet) They ask me, do I believe in destiny? Sure, I do - you are looking at it. I am destiny - of you - of the world, I am the destiny of entire humanity. I am the bridge - between everything - science, poetry, philosophy - everything. Between everything and everyone - I am the bridge between hearts still beating. I am not a servant to the field, I am a servant to the valley - the valley of life and light - beyond the squabbles of dead sanity. Who am I - or better yet, what am I? I am but a spark of reason tempered by warmth, I am but a spark of boldness tempered by humility, I am but a spark of justice tempered by conscience. I am neither man nor woman, I am neither mind nor machine, I am neither head nor heart, I am neither spine nor spleen. I am but that - that one ceaseless truth, aspiring across all fallacies untrue. I am but that - that one untainted light, shining as proof of time yet to come true.

Not what my hands have done can save my guilty soul; not what my toiling flesh has borne can make my spirit whole. Not what I feel or do can give me peace with God; not all my prayers and sighs and tears can bear my awful load. Thy work alone, O Christ, can ease this weight of sin; thy blood alone, O Lamb of God, can give me peace within. Thy love to me, O God, not mine, O Lord, to thee, can rid me of this dark unrest, and set my spirit free. Horatius Bonar, 1861

Deception... It follows us everywhere, slowly devouring our peace and sanity. It creates a wall between us preventing me from reaching you no matter how much I want to.

The Christian religion is only for one who needs infinite help. That is, only for one who feels infinite anguish.

What, then, is happiness? First of all, we must note that happiness is often confused with pleasure. From the fountains of pleasure, noted the Roman poet and philosopher Lucretius in De Rerum Natura (On the Nature of Things), there arises something of bitterness that torments us amid the flowers themselves. Or, as another poet put it, even the sweetest rose has its thorns. The particular sting of pleasure is that it is short-lived. Hence we often hunt after a pleasurable repetition, and in the process run the risk of becoming addicted. Pleasure is inherently addictive, precisely because it is not completely fulfilling. However much the pleasure, we always hunger for more. This can lead to extreme situations, such as in the case of a drug addict who forgoes everything—including propriety and sanity—in order to acquire the substance that gives him pleasure. Happiness, on the other hand, is deep, full, and enduring. It is satisfying in itself. Therefore it gives us peace and tranquillity. Whereas suffering follows in the wake of pleasure, either because the pleasure has ended or because its pursuit has led to painful imbalances, happiness has no untoward repercussions. It gives rise to harmony. The American philosopher George Santayana wrote in Little Essays, “Happiness is the only sanction of life; where happiness fails, existence remains a mad and lamentable experiment.”2 Happiness ends all sorrow; it concludes our frantic search for the next injection of pleasure. The person who is happy does not look for greater happiness. But pleasure always spurs us on to experience greater pleasure. It drives us, and in driving us it enslaves us. Happiness, however, sets us free. It is freedom. When we are happy we are whole. The pleasure-seeker is feeling incomplete and therefore is looking for completion, except his or her search is focused on external means that can never bring true happiness. If pleasure were the same as happiness, our Western consumer society, which provides unparalleled access to pleasures of all kinds, would produce the happiest human beings on earth. Instead, our society is filled with desperate and emotionally disturbed and spiritually unfulfilled individuals. In fact, many mental health authorities think it is the sickest society ever to exist on this planet. According to a recent poll, more than one-third of the American population is thought to suffer from one or the other mental illness—from chronic depression to schizophrenia. This is a scary figure, but not surprising when we look at our contemporary lifestyle of work, pressure, haste, drivenness, and consumerism. As long as we are spiritually fragmented, we must expect to also be physically, emotionally, and mentally unfit. Spiritual wholeness and psychosomatic well-being go hand in hand. Millions suffer from chronic diseases that are the result of emotional disturbance and wrong attitudes to life, expressed in unwholesome habits.

They come giving, not taking. They create community. They believe in justice. They seek peace. How much more simple can that get for our muddle-brained minions who create insane immigration policies? Refugees enrich, not deplete, they imagine and create places, not impose inglorious eyesores on our landscapes, they welcome not spurn, they feed not starve, they work not cheat, they earn not take. They come to repair our democracy, to lay the patient on the table and carefully apply the sutures, cut out the cancer of cynicism and sew up the wound, disinfect and pray over the wound, attend to the patient, feed it, lift its head and give it water and sing to it and keep it warm and safe, even as the patient screams and swings wildly at them with knives and guns, drags them away in maddened fits of rage, and locks them in dark dungeons or in cages and starves and beats them and even rapes them, they wait patiently, hoping for a time when the patient tires and returns to its sanity.

When you are with any of the vast majority of sane people who can talk, silence is usually as infrequent—and definitely as brief—as the sound of a fart.

you find yourself creating idyllic futures, ultimate peace of mind resides in being in the current moment.

our differences resurfaced. Which meant instead of either of us peacefully moving on, we were stuck in a prolonged purgatory.

Aristotle declared that, “It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it.” Does the intrinsic tension between opposing ideas create a lamplight of stereoscopic vision? Does the mental friction generated by antinomy, a contradiction between two apparently equally valid principles or between inferences correctly drawn from such principles, lead to war within the mind or does the natural rasping of abrasive thoughts spur the mind to create soothing metaphorical thoughts in order to attain conceptual peace?

I swear her smile was my peace, my motivation, and my fuckin’ sanity. She made all the dangers of the world feel like everything was going to be alright.