Sync With Nature Quotes

In our modern lives we have strayed so far from living in sync with nature that integrating natural health measures into our lives can paradoxically feel unnatural.

Instinctively, and against my better judgement, I pull her closer to me. She rests her head on my shoulder as if it is the most natural thing in all the worlds to do. But it's a mistake. I become aware of her heart beating, her lungs expanding with every breath, her skin beneath my touch. She moves, and her head slides to my chest. Shifting into sleep, she wraps her arm around my waist. Now I'm aware of my heart beating too, slowly, in sync with hers. I know I should push her away. But if my life depended on it, right now, that would be impossible.

Whenever the whole is different from the sum of the parts—whenever there’s cooperation or competition going on—the governing equations must be nonlinear.

If we are in sync with nature, we will be in sync with ourselves because although we belong to Heaven, we are made from earth.

one warning stands out—when humans create a world that is wildly out of sync with the laws of nature, disaster strikes as an inevitable rebalancing occurs.

We think and believe that we are exceptional. We have created so many stories around how exceptional humans are. We were created by the hands of the divine, and the universe is our gift. We believe that it was all created to serve us, but the reality of the matter is, we are not exceptional except for our ability to kill beauty and destroy. We are not as fast as the gazelle or a cheetah; we can't fly like birds; we don't have fur to protect us in the cold; we don't have natural strength to lift heavy objects like a gorilla or an elephant. We created fables to explain our presence, even scientific ones that we can't prove. It is all unproven theories, on all sides. We are not exceptional; we are only exceptional when we work together and in sync with nature like every other creature.

we’ve come to realize that most systems of differential equations are unsolvable, in that same sense; it’s impossible to find a formula for the answer. There is, however, one spectacular exception. Linear differential equations are solvable.

I am knee deep in sea water now, feeling the energy of the tidal waves as they roll inwards towards the shore. A tide that exhales life spent, across its great, red stained sea. Its waves’ beats are out of sync, as they crawl slowly towards land.

I’ve wondered why not. But then, women are in sync with nature. Our cycles are linked to the moon, to the tides. Like them, we change two dozen times over, every month. What do men do? They don’t get to experience much of life. We gestate the babies and bring them into existence while the men try not to faint. It’s why they’re obsessed with extrinsic markers of success. And war! Taking life to feel some speck of the power we get from making life. You have to hand it to men, they’ve managed to convince us that the things that make women powerful are weaknesses.

a big, messy linear problem can always be broken into smaller, more manageable parts. Then each part can be solved separately, and all the little answers can be recombined to solve the bigger problem. So it’s literally true that in a linear problem, the whole is exactly equal to the sum of the parts.

Soul Mates share complementary, compatible life goals and their spiritual natures are often in sync with ours. They also experience an immense level of comfort with each other that cannot be experienced in other relationships, and they complement each other in many ways through their strengths and weaknesses.

Simulation is no substitute for math—it could never provide a proof—but if Peskin’s conjecture was false, this approach would save me a lot of time by revealing a counterexample. This sort of evidence is extremely valuable in math. When you’re trying to prove something, it helps to know it’s true. That gives you the confidence you need to keep searching for a rigorous

Simulation is no substitute for math—it could never provide a proof—but if Peskin’s conjecture was false, this approach would save me a lot of time by revealing a counterexample. This sort of evidence is extremely valuable in math. When you’re trying to prove something, it helps to know it’s true. That gives you the confidence you need to keep searching for a rigorous proof. Programming

Warriorship is an infinitely nuanced subject. A true warrior desires nothing so much as to be perfectly appropriate, “in sync” with space and time in each and every moment. The perfection of warrior timing results in a kind of invisibility. Walking between the super strings of karma, or bound activity, the warrior engages in kriya, or spontaneous action. This is the actionless action spoken of so eloquently by Krishna in the Bhagavad Gita. Only the natural perfection of kriya ensures that a warrior’s actions will be of real benefit to those she serves. Walking between and in a state of total non-distraction, a warrior’s invisibility is identical to her invincibility. In the warrior heart is a dynamic stillness that is unperturbed by any arising of this world, by any impediment or seeming obstacle. Even when we have not realized this perfection, it is our warrior hearts, still mostly unknown to us, that lead us steadily on to realization.

This synergistic character of nonlinear systems is precisely what makes them so difficult to analyze. They can’t be taken apart. The whole system has to be examined all at once, as a coherent entity. As we’ve seen earlier, this necessity for global thinking is the greatest challenge in understanding how large systems of oscillators can spontaneously synchronize themselves. More generally, all problems about self-organization are fundamentally nonlinear. So the study of sync has always been entwined with the study of nonlinearity.

It’s hard to blame Representative Petri for missing the point. The value of studying fireflies is endlessly surprising. For example, before 1994, Internet engineers were vexed by spontaneous pulsations in the traffic between computers called routers, until they realized that the machines were behaving like fireflies, exchanging periodic messages that were inadvertently synchronizing them. Once the cause was identified, it became clear how to relieve the congestion. Electrical engineers devised a decentralized architecture for clocking computer circuits more efficiently, by mimicking the fireflies’ strategy for achieving synchrony at low cost and high reliability.

Beyond serving as an inspiration to engineers, the group behavior of fireflies has broader significance for science as a whole. It represents one of the few tractable instances of a complex, self-organizing system, where millions of interactions occur simultaneously—when everyone changes the state of everyone else. Virtually all the major unsolved problems in science today have this intricate character. Consider the cascade of biochemical reactions in a single cell and their disruption when the cell turns cancerous; the booms and crashes of the stock market; the emergence of consciousness from the interplay of trillions of neurons in the brain; the origin of life from a meshwork of chemical reactions in the primordial soup. All these involve enormous numbers of players linked in complex webs. In every case, astonishing patterns emerge spontaneously. The richness of the world around us is due, in large part, to the miracle of self-organization.

The prefrontal cortex is a complex, fragile region of the brain. In its healthy state, it directs human impulses toward rational choices and away from destructive or self destructive behavior. It allows us to deal with the present moment while storing plans for the future. Yet as the newest part of the brain to develop in human evolution, the prefrontal cortex is also the region that takes the longest time to reach maturity, or maximum operating efficiency. It will not be fully functional until the person is past the age of twenty. This out of sync progress ranks among the most profound natural misfortunes of humanity. For while the prefrontal cortex is taking its time, other powerful components of the humaninprogress have raced across the finish line and function without the cortex's restraints. A young adult with a still developing prefrontal cortex will have reached .physical maturity, which of course means the capacity to reproduce and the strong hormonal drive to do so.

He wanted his birthday to disappear, dissolve in water and sink to the bottom. A day like all the others. That's how he felt about it, wanting to maneuver that day into silence, and outside of time, time lived and gone for good, so that eventually not even a scratch on his skin would remind him of the day when it occurred, or of that time; that's what gave Singer a great sense of satisfaction. Then he felt that he was once again in sync with himself and could breathe a sigh of relief while, without thinking about it, he endured yet another day in his life without noting that forty-seven years had now passed since his birth. Such is Singer's life, it proceeded without any need to mark its passage, thought Singer, moving with his own unique rhythm, yet not totally without self-awareness, in spite of everything. To be yanked out of the automechanism of life in order to celebrate his birthday as a boisterous reminder was something that broke with what Singer regarded as his essential nature.

Instead of ascending to enlightened states of being that involve the denial of the self, we have discovered that ours is a journey of descent: we look deep within to reclaim forgotten aspects of ourselves. In our descent, many of us rediscover “Sophia,” which is the Greek word for wisdom. She is a feminine aspect of the divine found in the Hebrew Scriptures. Her presence in the male pantheon of gods has been obscured, but not completely eradicated. In the Gnostic writings, considered heretical by the “orthodox” church, Sophia was present at creation and escorted Adam and Eve toward self-awareness. Women are reclaiming Sophia as a representation of their own inner wisdom. No longer is “god's will” imposed from outside of their lives—wisdom unfolds from within them and is in sync with their own natural gifts and capacities. No longer available to turn their lives and wills over to gods, gurus, and experts, they’re refusing to surrender except to Wisdom's urgings. No longer abdicating responsibility for their lives, they are employing their own willfulness in harmony with Wisdom's ways.

Von Neumann, in his thought experiment about self-replication, had written that he had avoided the “most intriguing, exciting, and important question of why the molecules or aggregates that in nature really occur … are the sorts of thing they are, why they are essentially very large molecules in some cases but large aggregations in other cases.”20 Pattee suggested that it is the very size of the molecules that ties the quantum and classical worlds together: “Enzymes are small enough to take advantage of quantum coherence to attain the enormous catalytic power on which life depends, but large enough to attain high specificity and arbitrariness in producing effectively decoherent products that can function as classical structures.”21 Quantum coherence basically means that subatomic particles sync together to “cooperate” to produce decoherent products, which are particles that do not have quantum properties. Pattee notes that there is now research that supports his proposal that enzymes require quantum effects22 and that life would be impossible in a strictly quantum world.23 Both are needed: a quantum layer and a classical physical layer.

In a landmark study into the psychology of perceived “creepiness,” psychologists McAndrew and Koehnke (2016) asked 1,341 respondents to answer questions about which personal qualities and behaviors they associated with “creepy” people, and used statistical factor analysis to develop a measurable “creepiness” factor. The creepiness factor they developed included the following traits: a person having awkward, unpredictable behavior, an unnatural-looking smile, laughter that occurred at “unnatural” times, speaking for too long about a single topic, and not knowing when to end a conversation.[30] When Autistic people attempt to socialize and bond with others in an affable, enthusiastic way, these are often the very traits we embody. Even as we try to put the neurotypical people around us at ease by smiling, keeping the conversation moving, and staying present, we might be seen as scary or unsettling. A series of experiments by social psychologists Leander, Chartrand, and Bargh (2012) found that when a person engages in social mirroring in an even slightly inappropriate way, it skeeves people out, and even makes them feel physically colder.[31] A little bit of mimicry is normal among friends. People mirror one another’s postures and mannerisms as they get comfortable and fall “ into sync. But if you mirror someone too much, or at the wrong time, these studies show you can literally give other people the chills. Autistic maskers try really hard to mirror other people, but since we can’t do it as fluently and effortlessly as neurotypicals do, we often unwittingly set off NT’s creep-dars. The solution, then, is to stop hiding and pretending to be something we’re not. Instead of straining (and failing) to imitate NT people, we can become radically visible. Sasson’s research found that when participants were told they were interacting with an Autistic person, their biases against us disappeared. Suddenly they liked their slightly awkward conversation partner, and expressed interest in getting to know them. Having an explanation for the Autistic person’s oddness helped the creeped-out feeling go away. Follow-up research by Sasson and Morrison (2019) confirmed that when neurotypical people know that they’re meeting an Autistic person, first impressions of them are far more positive, and after the interaction neurotypicals express more interest in learning about Autism.[32] 30. McAndrew, F. T., & Koehnke, S. S. (2016). On the nature of creepiness. New Ideas in Psychology, 43, 10–15. 31. Leander, N. P., Chartrand, T. L., & Bargh, J. A. (2012). You give me the chills: Embodied reactions to inappropriate amounts of behavioral mimicry. Psychological Science, 23(7), 772–779. Note: many of John Bargh’s priming studies have failed replication attempts in recent years. For a discussion of a failed attempt of a related but different series of temperature priming studies, see Lynott, D., Corker, K. S., Wortman, J., Connell, L., Donnellan, M. B., Lucas, R. E., & O’Brien, K. (2014). Replication of “Experiencing physical warmth promotes interpersonal warmth” by Williams and Bargh (2008). Social Psychology. 32. Sasson, N. J., & Morrison, K. E. (2019). First impressions of adults with autism improve with diagnostic disclosure and increased autism knowledge of peers. Autism, 23(1), 50–59.

Young women have an advantage because they are also in sync with the lunar cycles. It is an advantage, but a lot of them treat it as a curse. It is a fantastic possibility that your body is both connected to the solar and the lunar cycles. Nature has granted this advantage to a woman because she has been entrusted with the responsibility of propagating the human race. So she has been given some extra privileges, which unfortunately have been perceived socially as disadvantages. People do not know how to handle the bonus energy generated at that time and hence treat it as a curse, and even a kind of madness. (The word “lunatic” is derived, as we know, from “lunar.”)

I look down at my list of fruits and recite the names under my breath, syncing into the rhythms of nearby batucada drummers. Softly chanting, I close my eyes, and feel a sense of peace. For a moment, I forget everything. I forget my name. I forget why I came here. All I know is abacaxí, açai, ameixa, cupuaçu, graviola, maracujá, taperebá, uva, umbu.

I hit a low place,” she began. “Perhaps it was the idea that fifty was looming. I don’t know, but I felt off. Out of sync with myself.

Emma counts down to three, and as soon as we splash into the water, it comes alive. Millions of white lights sparkle. They radiate out like a shockwave, tiny brilliant explosions like nothing I've ever seen. Emma is stomping onward, a path of light in her wake. I follow along, but I go slower, not wanting to take the next step until the last one has subsided, afraid that the magic will run out. It's like lightning underwater, like microscopic fireflies raging in sync. When the water calms back to darkness, I lean over, run my hand through the water. The lights follow suit, like it's my skin that's charged and not the water. I hear Emma's stomping and near-maniacal laughter get closer. "What is this?" I ask, my face only a few inches away from the water. I hadn't even noticed how warm the lake is, how soaked through my jeans are. I swirl my fingers across the surface, enchanted. "This is nature being ridiculous," Emma says. "Bioluminescent plankton. Like swimming in fireworks.

Water is in our nature, in our bodies. It’ll come naturally. Allow your heart and mind to sync with the rhythm of the ocean.

Knowing that our every thought and action creates a ripple effect, we can use our intuitive wisdom to create health on every level. We can use mind-body practices such as meditation and mindfulness to feel our inner connectedness and release all the anxiety that comes from feeling separate, small, and disempowered. When we calm our nervous system, we become more in tune with ourselves and the natural world all around us. When we get “in sync,” we can access our higher faculties and all the creative intelligence that we are capable of. This enables us to find more insightful solutions to our problems and, ultimately, fulfill our human potential in life. When we calm our busy minds, we cultivate a sense of inner peace and harmony that allows us to very naturally create peace and harmony in the world at large. As within, so without. Individual peace is the basis for world peace. The world is but a mirror of our own consciousness; therefore, we need look no further than our own hearts and minds to heal the planet

Our stories are timeless and tested. They are about us, a people of tremendous strength.Our songs are full of love and life— and the ups and downs of both. They are soulful with the rhythms of a heart that is in sync with nature and wonderment. Our struggles are real and rugged. They beckon our memory to the highest callings of the spirit, to help us rejoice and to overcome.

The surya namaskar is essentially about building a dimension within you where your physical bodily cycles are in sync with the sun’s cycles, which run about twelve and a quarter years. It is not by accident but by intent that it has been structured with twelve postures. If your system is in a certain level of vibrancy and readiness, and in a high state of receptivity, then naturally your cycle will be in sync with the solar cycle. Young

Preparation. Because of their consistent and often intense training, successful risk-takers are prepared for any contingency. And that’s because they have the requisite education to recognize exactly what the contingencies are. They are aware of the best way to respond to different risky situations. They understand how even the smallest change in the environment can change the entire risk-taking equation. They spend an inordinate amount of time training and practicing so what they do feels like second nature. All that learning—and deliberate practice—syncs up their fast- and slow-thinking systems, which leads to smarter decision-making.

Nature paces its change in gradual steps, and in this time of renewal, I danced in sync to the rhythm of life.

We each had our own clocks on either side of the bed. They were old wind-up clocks from our Ann Arbor days. His was a Big Ben and mine a Little Ben. Naturally the Big Ben’s ticking was lower than mine, and louder, the father of the clock family. Mine was staccato, shrill, as if it was panicked by the passage of time. They didn’t tick in sync, and Howard’s was always set fast. I remember waking up and thinking the clocks were sparring, that they would battle over their precious minutes and the way to tick until they exhausted themselves and wound down and just quit.

Only once all the fish and birds and mammals were in sync were we, their human descendants, born—each creature and plant and ancestor dependent on one another, intrinsically linked. The Kumulipo is not only a map of our genealogy but our core agreement to the world we were brought into: it’s the Kānaka’s kuleana, or duty, to respect nature’s harmony. This union is our life force.

Depression is supposed to be this genetic disease. Really? What does it mean to depress something? It means to push it down. What gets pushed down in depression? Your feelings, your emotions. Why would a person push down their feelings? Because they are too painful, they are too much to bear. In other words, the pushing down of feelings becomes a coping mechanism in an environment where you are not allowed to feel because your feelings threaten your attachments. So you learn to survive by pushing down your feelings and then 15 years later or 30 years later you are diagnosed with depression. Now, as a medical, biological problem, they give you a pill. I'm not here to fight against pharmacology. I've taken anti-depressants and they've helped me. They work sometimes. But they are not the answer. Because the answer is how does that childhood experience manifest in your life today. If you understand all of these historical, cultural, familial stresses imposed certain behaviors on you, certain self-view, certain patterns of emotional relating, now you can do something about it. Now it is not longer "there is something wrong with me", it is just that "this is how I adapted to what happened to me." And therefore I have the capacity now, as a conscious human being, to become aware of all this and to transform myself. It's not so easy to transform yourself because, of course, these adaptions that I've talked about, originally related to our very survival as young children and so we think we have to be that way. And we don't know any other way of being, except there's something telling us that "this is not right." Something is telling us. So we can see individual problems like depression or ADHD or multiple sclerosis or anything else as problems to get rid of or we can look at them as warning signs that we are out of sync with our true nature, that we are misaligned somehow with actually who we are. And that something in us is trying to wake us up.

In springtime when I lived at the White House, we used to plant what’s called a “three sisters” vegetable patch in our garden on the South Lawn, mixing a crop of corn, beans, and squash together in one place. This is a traditional Native American method for growing food in a resourceful way, one that’s been used for many hundreds of years and is based on the idea that each type of plant has something vital to offer the others: The corn grows tall and creates a natural pole for the bean plants to climb. The beans provide nitrogen, a nutrient that helps the other plants grow more efficiently, and the squash stays low to the ground, its large, spreading leaves helping to block weeds and keep the soil moist. The plants grow at different rates; the vegetables harvest at different times. But the mix provides a system of mutual protection and benefit—the tall and the small continually working together. It’s not just the corn, and not just the beans, but rather the corn and the beans and the squash combined that yield a healthy crop. The balance comes from the combination. I’ve started to think about both my life and our wider human community in these terms. We are here to share benefits and protection. Our balance rests upon this ideal, the richness of these combinations. If I begin to feel out of sync, if I’m feeling unsupported or overwhelmed, I try to take stock of what my garden holds, what I’ve planted and what I still need to mix in: What’s feeding my soil? What’s helping to block the weeds? Am I cultivating both the small and the tall?

Nature designed our vestibular receptors to be extremely sensitive. Indeed, our need to know where we are in relation to the earth is more compelling than our need for food, for tactile comfort, or even for a mother-child bond.

Our senses give us the information we need to function in the world. Their first job is to help us survive. Their second job, after they assure us that we are safe, is to help us learn how to be active, social creatures. The senses receive information from stimuli both outside and inside our bodies. Every move we make, every bite we eat, every object we touch produces sensations. When we engage in any activity, we use several senses at the same time. The convergence of sensations—especially touch, body position, movement, sight, sound, and smell—is called intersensory integration. This process is key and tells us on the spot what is going on, where, why, and when it matters, and how we must use or respond to it. The more important the activity, the more senses we use. That is why we use all our senses simultaneously for two very important human activities: eating and procreating. Sometimes our senses inform us that something in our environment doesn’t feel right; we sense that we are in danger and so we respond defensively. For instance, should we feel a tarantula creeping down our neck, we would protect ourselves with a fight-or-flight response. Withdrawing from too much stimulation or from stimulation of the wrong kind is natural. Sometimes our senses inform us that all is well; we feel safe and satisfied and seek more of the same stimuli. For example, we are so pleased with the taste of one chocolate-covered raisin that we eat a handful. Sometimes, when we get bored, we go looking for more stimulation. For example, when we have mastered a skill, like ice skating in a straight line, we attempt a more complicated move, like a figure eight. To do their job well, so that we respond appropriately, the senses must work together. A well-balanced brain that is nourished with many sensations operates well, and when our brain operates smoothly, so do we. We have more senses than many people realize. Some sensations occur outside our bodies, and some inside.

Discipline When the child loses control, avoid punishment. Loss of self-control is scary enough; punishment adds guilt and shame. Comment on the child’s negative behavior, not on the child: “Your yelling makes me angry,” rather than “You infuriate me!” Help the child find a quiet space, away from sensory overload, as a technique to regain self-control. Let him decide the length of the time-out, if possible. Set limits, to make a child feel secure. Pick one battle at a time to help him develop self-control and appropriate behavior. Be firm about the limits you set. Show him that his feelings won’t change the outcome; a rule is a rule. “I know you’re mad because you want to play with the puppy, but it is suppertime.” Discipline consistently. Use gestures and empathy to explain why you are disciplining him. (Discipline means to teach or instruct, not punish.) After you tell him what you are going to do, then do it. Determine appropriate consequences for misbehavior. A natural consequence is best, because it is reasonable, factual, and you don’t impose it: “If you skip breakfast, you will be hungry.” A logical consequence, in which the child is responsible for the outcome of his behavior, is second best: “If you throw food, you must mop it up.” An applied consequence, in which the punishment doesn’t exactly fit the crime, is useful when nothing else works: “If you spit on the baby, you may not play with your friends,” or “If you hit me, you may not watch TV.” Reward appropriate behavior with approval.

that raises a profound mystery: Scientists have long been baffled by the existence of spontaneous order in the universe. The laws of thermodynamics seem to dictate the opposite, that nature should inexorably degenerate toward a state of greater disorder, greater entropy. Yet all around us we see magnificent structures—galaxies, cells, ecosystems, human beings—that have somehow managed to assemble themselves.