Trapped In Your Own Mind Quotes

Mental illness turns people inwards. That's what I reckon. It keeps up forever trapped by the pain of our own minds, in the same way that the pain of a broken leg or a cut thumb will grab your attention, holding it so tightly that your good leg or your good thumb seem to cease to exist.

Toxic relationships are dangerous to your health; they will literally kill you. Stress shortens your lifespan. Even a broken heart can kill you. There is an undeniable mind-body connection. Your arguments and hateful talk can land you in the emergency room or in the morgue. You were not meant to live in a fever of anxiety; screaming yourself hoarse in a frenzy of dreadful, panicked fight-or-flight that leaves you exhausted and numb with grief. You were not meant to live like animals tearing one another to shreds. Don't turn your hair gray. Don't carve a roadmap of pain into the sweet wrinkles on your face. Don't lay in the quiet with your heart pounding like a trapped, frightened creature. For your own precious and beautiful life, and for those around you — seek help or get out before it is too late. This is your wake-up call!

If you aren't destroying your enemies, it's because you have been conquered and assimilated, you do not even have an idea of who your enemies are. You have been brainwashed into believing you are your own enemy, and you are set against yourself. The enemy is laughing at you as you tear yourself to pieces. That is the most effective warfare an enemy can launch on his foes: confounding them.

People fear that being trapped inside a box, they will miss out on all the wonders of the world. As long as Neo is stuck inside the matrix, and Truman is stuck inside the TV studio, they will never visit Fiji, or Paris, or Machu Picchu. But in truth, everything you will ever experience in life is within your own body and your own mind. Breaking out of the matrix or travelling to Fiji won’t make any difference. It’s not that somewhere in your mind there is an iron chest with a big red warning sign ‘Open only in Fiji!’ and when you finally travel to the South Pacific you get to open the chest, and out come all kinds of special emotions and feelings that you can have only in Fiji. And if you never visit Fiji in your life, then you missed these special feelings for ever. No. Whatever you can feel in Fiji, you can feel anywhere in the world; even inside the matrix.

Generally the rational brain can override the emotional brain, as long as our fears don’t hijack us. (For example, your fear at being flagged down by the police can turn instantly to gratitude when the cop warns you that there’s an accident ahead.) But the moment we feel trapped, enraged, or rejected, we are vulnerable to activating old maps and to follow their directions. Change begins when we learn to "own" our emotional brains. That means learning to observe and tolerate the heartbreaking and gut-wrenching sensations that register misery and humiliation. Only after learning to bear what is going on inside can we start to befriend, rather than obliterate, the emotions that keep our maps fixed and immutable.

It must be an awful feeling to have love all around you and not feel loved, to be in need and unable to accept whats being offered, to see a world of possibilities but trapped inside your own mind.

No true love is possible, Lewis demonstrates, until we abandon our claims, our rights, our grievances. Until then we will be trapped in the obscurity of our heart's mixed motives, our will to possess, to control, to be our own gods.

Prison is a frame of thought, we’re all our own prisons, were each our own wardens and we do our own time. See prison in your mind, can’t you see I’m free?

Too many people trap themselves in the chains of realistic goals because they refuse to see beyond the HOW. Don’t worry about the HOW. Start with the WHAT and the WHY. When you know what you want to bring forth in the world and WHY you want it, choose it. Then take whatever action intuition guides you toward taking.

Prison is a frame of thought, we’re all our own prisons, were each our own wardens and we do our own time. See prison is in your mind, can’t you see I’m free?

There’s a reason why so few make it out of the trap of their own mind. The trap all too often seems to be just fine from day to day.

Don’t be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people’s thinking,” Jobs told the graduates. “Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become.

I was sitting in front of the hut and watching the ground darken and the sea grow a phosphorescent green. Not a soul was to be seen from one end of the beach to the other, not a sail, not a bird. Only the smell of the earth entered through the window. I rose and held out my hand to the rain like a beggar. I suddenly felt like weeping. Some sorrow, not my own but deeper and more obscure, was rising from the damp earth: the panic which a peaceful grazing animal feels when, all at once, without have seen anything, it rears its head and scents in the air about it that it is trapped and cannot escape. I wanted to utter a cry, knowing that it would relieve my feelings, but I was ashamed to. The clouds were coming lower and lower. I looked through the window; my heart was gently palpitating. What a voluptuous enjoyment of sorrow those hours of soft rain can produce in you! All bitter memories hidden in the depths of your mind come to the surface: separations from friends, women’s smiles which have faded, hopes which have lost their wings like moths and of which only a grub remains – and that grub had crawled on to the leaf of my heart and eating it away.

When you realize you don’t matter, the world becomes inconsequential and claustrophobic. You feel trapped inside your body, and your mind. Nothing can take you out of desperation, unless they take the brunt of your loneliness and make it their own.

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary. IT

There are always problems in the world, and the world has always been there, and the world will remain there. If you start trying to work it out—changing circumstances, changing people, thinking of a utopian world, changing the government, the structure, the economy, the politics, the education—you will be lost. That is the trap known as politics. That’s how many people waste their own lives. Be very clear about it: The only person you can help right now is you yourself. Right now you cannot help anybody. This may be just a distraction, just a trick of the mind. See your own problems, see your own anxieties, see your own mind, and first try to change that. It happens to many people: The moment they become interested in some sort of religion, meditation, prayer, immediately the mind tells them, “What are you doing sitting here silently? The world needs you; there are so many poor people. There is much conflict, violence, aggression. What are you doing praying in the temple? Go and help people.” How can you help those people? You are just like them. You may create even more problems for them, but you cannot help. That’s how all the revolutions have always failed. No revolution has yet succeeded because the revolutionaries are in the same boat. The religious person is one who understands that “I am very tiny, I am very limited. If with this limited energy, even if I can change myself, that will be a miracle.” And if you can change yourself, if you are a totally different being with new life shining in your eyes and a new song in your heart, then maybe you can be helpful to others also, because then you will have something to share.

Mental illness turns people inwards. That’s what I reckon. It keeps us forever trapped by the pain of our own minds, in the same way that the pain of a broken leg or a cut thumb will grab your attention, holding it so tightly that your good leg or your good thumb seem to cease to exist.

Set your peace free before your caged mind catches you again in another dream trap where you may loathe to be your own menace awaiting in hope of a war-less world !

If you can't wake up and be grateful for all the beauty that still surrounds you, you will always find yourself trapped in the ugly that simmers in your own mind.

He wants to run, but where? However far he goes, he will not escape, cannot escape his own loathsome self. He will always be trapped within his own body, his own mind. The emotional pain that comes with this realization is so strong, it feels physical. He senses it knotting and twisting inside his body, ready to destroy him from within. He is losing his grip, he is losing his mind. Does anyone else know what it is to be dead yet still alive? This is it. This is it . A half-world of torment, where memories frozen into oblivion slowly begin to thaw. A place where everything hurts, where your conscious mind has neither the strength to let you function in the real world, nor the power to return you to hibernation.

He said sometimes when you're young you have to think about things, because you're forming your value-sets and you keep coming up with Data Insufficient and finding holes in your programs. So you keep trying to do a fix on your sets. And the more powerful your mind is and the more intense your concentration is, the worse damage you can do to yourself, which is why, Justin says, Alphas always have trouble and some of them go way off and out-there, and why almost all Alphas are eccentric. But he says the best thing you can do if you're too bright for your own good is what the Testers do, be aware where you got which idea, keep a tab on everything, know how your ideas link up with each other and with your deep-sets and value-sets, so when you're forty or fifty or a hundred forty and you find something that doesn't work, you can still find all the threads and pull them. But that's not real easy unless you know what your value-sets are, and most CITs don't. CITs have a trouble with not wanting to know that kind of thing. Because some of them are real eetee once you get to thinking about how they link. Especially about sex and ego-nets. Justin says inflexibility is a trap and most Alpha types are inward-turned because they process so fast they're gone and thinking before a Gamma gets a sentence out. Then they get in the habit of thinking they thought of everything, but they don't remember everything stems from input. You may have a new idea, but it stems from input somebody gave you, and that could be wrong or your senses could have been lying to you. He says it can be an equipment-quality problem or a program-quality problem, but once an Alpha takes a falsehood for true, it's a personal problem.

There is NO LIFE if it’s a programmed mind. Listen to the struggling kid inside, and follow the innocent unbiased zeal; YOU ARE ONE STEP CLOSER TO YOU. Never fall in to the trap of traditional rationales, which only evaluates in terms of transactions which leads to somebody else's goals someday. Time is Man-Made, Calendar is Man-Made to help us, not to disturb us, Set your own time, and allow the inner explosion to express itself. YOU ARE ONE STEP CLOSER TO YOU

He felt that he had unwittingly stuck his hand into The Great Wasps' Nest of Life. As an image it stank. As a cameo of reality, he felt it was serviceable. He had stuck his hand through some rotted flashing in high summer and that hand and his whole arm had been consumed in holy, righteous fire, destroying conscious thought, making the concept of civilized behaviour obsolete. Could you be expected to behave as a thinking human being when your hand was being impaled on red-hot darning needles? Could you be expected to live in the love of your nearest and dearest when the brown, furious cloud rose out of the hole in the fabric of things (the fabric you thought was so innocent) and arrowed straight at you? Could you be held responsible for your own actions as you ran crazily about on the sloping roof seventy feet above he ground, not knowing where you were going, not remembering that your panicky, stumbling feet could lead you crashing and blundering right over the rain gutter and down to your death on the concrete seventy feet below? Jack didn't think you could. When you unwittingly stuck your hand into the wasps' nest, you hadn't made a covenant with the devil to give up your civilized self with its trappings of love and respect and honour. It just happened to you. Passively, with no say, you ceased to be a creature of the mind and became a creature of the nerve endings; from college-educated man to wailing ape in five seconds.

Everything hurts. He can barely lie still. He feels caught. He wants to run, but where? He feels certain he will always remain like this - trapped within his own body, his own mind. The emotional pain is so strong, it becomes physical. He feels it knotting and twisting inside him, ready to crush him, suffocate him. He is losing his grip, he is losing his mind. He thought he had it all back under control, but suddenly nothing makes sense any more. Does anyone else know what it's like to be stuck somewhere between dead and alive? I't s a half-world of incoherent pain where emotions you put on ice start slowly thawing again. A place where everything hurts, where your mind is no longer strong enough to force your feelings back into hibernation.

He stared at me. “Every person exists in their own shallow bowl, and they can’t see over the rim,” he explained. “But they think that their world is the world—the truth. When in reality, no two bowls are identical, and all people are stuck trapped in their own.” Listening to my love, I felt as if we were transported back to the trail, staring at the inky field of ghostly stars. My hair dangling off our bed and onto the hardwood floor, almost upside down, I challenged him, intoxicated. “No that’s silly. We see the color of the walls, the same.” “There is no way to prove that your blue is my blue,” he said. And sobering, I began seeing how my love’s allegory was a hard truth, very dark—how our shallow bowls, differences of perspective, account for all declarations of others’ “wrongness” (one’s own rightness), and the sense of being wronged.

Gregori brought Savannah's hand to the warmth of his mouth,his breath heating the pulse beating in her wrist. The night is especially beautiful, mon petit amour.Your hero saved the girl, walks among humans, and converses with a fool.That alone should bring a smile to your face.Do not weep for what we cannot change.We will make certain that this human with us comes to no harm. Are you my hero,then? There were tears in her voice, in her mind, like an iridescent prism. She needed him, his comfort,his support under her terrible weight of guilt and love and loss. Always,for all eternity, he answered instantly,without hesitation, his eyes hot mercury. He tipped her chin up so that she met the brilliance of his silver gaze.Always, mon amour.His molten gaze trapped her blue one and held her enthralled. Your heart grows lighter.The burden of your sorrow becomes my own. He held her gaze captive for a few moments to ensure that she was free of the heaviness crushing her. Savannah blinked and moved a little away from him, wondering what she had been thinking of.What had they been talking about? "Gary." Gregori drawled the name slowly and sat back in his chair,totally relaxed. He looked like a sprawling tiger,dangerous and untamed. "Tell us about yourself." "I work a lot.I'm not married. I'm really not much of a people person. I'm basically a nerd." Gregori shifted, a subtle movement of muscles suggesting great power. "I am not familiar with this term." "Yeah,well,you wouldn't be," Gary said. "It means I have lots of brains and no brawn.I don't do the athlete thing. I'm into computers and chess and things requiring intellect. Women find me skinny,wimpy,and boring. Not something they would you." There was no bitterness in his voice,just a quiet acceptance of himself,his life. Gregori's white teeth flashed. "There is only one woman who matters to me, Gary, and she finds me difficult to live with.I cannot imagine why,can you?" "Maybe because you're jealous, possessive, concerned with every single detail of her life?" Gary plainly took the question literally, offering up his observations without judgement. "You're probably domineering,too. I can see that. Yeah.It might be tough." Savannah burst out laughing, the sound musical, rivaling the street musicians. People within hearing turned their heads and held their breath, hoping for more. "Very astute, Gary.Very, very astute. I bet you have an anormous IQ." Gregori stirred again, the movement a ripple of power,of danger. He was suddenly leaning into Gary. "You think you are intelligent? Baiting the wild animal is not too smart.

In the event of a change in cabin pressure, the flight attendant on the video was saying, you put your oxygen mask on first, pulling the cord, and then you helped others in your party who needed your assistance. The video showed a nice-looking dad tugging the oxygen mask over his own face, his placid daughter sitting quietly beside him, breathing bad air. What kind of idiot came up with that rule? The didn't understand human nature at all. She imagined the compartment filling slowly with smoke and Noah beside her, gasping. Did they really think that she could straighten the mask on her own face and breathe in clean air while her asthmatic son struggled to take a breath? The assumption was that she and her child were two different entities with seperate hearts and lungs and minds. They didn't realise that when your child was gasping for air, you felt your own breath trapped in your chest.

It is a great wonder How Almighty God in his magnificence Favors our race with rank and scope And the gift of wisdom; His sway is wide. Sometimes He allows the mind of a man Of distinguished birth to follow its bent, Grants him fulfillment and felicity on earth And forts to command in his own country. He permits him to lord it in many lands Until the man in his unthinkingness Forgets that it will ever end for him. He indulges his desires; illness and old age Mean nothing to him; his mind is untroubled By envy or malice or thought of enemies With their hate-honed swords. The whole world Conforms to his will, he is kept from the worst Until an element of overweening Enters him and takes hold While the soul’s guard, its sentry, drowses, Grown too distracted. A killer stalks him, An archer who draws a deadly bow. And then the man is hit in the heart, The arrow flies beneath his defenses, The devious promptings of the demon start. His old possessions seem paltry to him now. He covets and resents; dishonors custom And bestows no gold; and because of good things That the Heavenly powers gave him in the past He ignores the shape of things to come. Then finally the end arrives When the body he was lent collapses and falls Prey to its death; ancestral possessions And the goods he hoarded and inherited by another Who lets them go with a liberal hand. “O flower of warriors, beware of that trap. Choose, dear Beowulf, the better part, Eternal rewards. Do not give way to pride. For a brief while your strength is in bloom But it fades quickly; and soon there will follow Illness or the sword to lay you low, Or a sudden fire or surge of water Or jabbing blade or javelin from the air Or repellent age. Your piercing eye Will dim and darken; and death will arrive, Dear warrior, to sweep you away.

And when people stop focusing on their dreams they become lost in the maze of their minds, wandering around in endlessly repeating circles. Then the colours of life start to dull, and excitement starts to die. Until you’re trapped in a prison of your own making, looking out at life instead of living it.

And yet, it's the last place on earth the average person will turn to for help. You know why? You know why people don't automatically turn their own vast mental resources on when faced with a problem? It's because they never learned how to think. Most people will go to any length to avoid thinking when they're faced with a problem. They will ask advice from the most illogical people, usually people who don't know any more than they do: next-door neighbors, members of their families, and friends stuck in the same mental traps that they are. Very few of them use the muscles of their mind to solve their problems.

To break out of this trap of always being driven by our own desires, it is not a bad exercise to ask yourself from time to time, “What is my own way?” “What do I really want?” “Would I know it if I got it?” “Does everything have to be perfect right now, or under my total control right now, for me to be happy?

It is for you to read and say yes, I can be better, and I will. I wrote, Uncaged Wallflower for those who feel trapped in the thoughts their minds produce, unable to express them with the rest of the world out of fear of critique or disagreement. For the people whom need an extra dose of positivity in their day. I am at a place in my life where I finally have a good grasp on who I am and what I want to continue to be.  Living a life of positivity and happiness with kindness and following my passions being my first priorities.  The changes I have made didn’t come from the things people said about me, it came from discovering the change I needed out of my own desire. From that I have begun following my passions and didn’t just call my dreams, hobbies. So please, don’t ever feel like your opinion isn’t important. Don’t let other people dictate your bliss. You’re life is in your control. Never stop being a dreamer. With love,   Jennae

Putting It into Practice: Neutralizing Negativity Use the techniques below anytime you’d like to lessen the effects of persistent negative thoughts. As you try each technique, pay attention to which ones work best for you and keep practicing them until they become instinctive. You may also discover some of your own that work just as well. ♦ Don’t assume your thoughts are accurate. Just because your mind comes up with something doesn’t necessarily mean it has any validity. Assume you’re missing a lot of elements, many of which could be positive. ♦ See your thoughts as graffiti on a wall or as little electrical impulses flickering around your brain. ♦ Assign a label to your negative experience: self-criticism, anger, anxiety, etc. Just naming what you are thinking and feeling can help you neutralize it. ♦ Depersonalize the experience. Rather than saying “I’m feeling ashamed,” try “There is shame being felt.” Imagine that you’re a scientist observing a phenomenon: “How interesting, there are self-critical thoughts arising.” ♦ Imagine seeing yourself from afar. Zoom out so far, you can see planet Earth hanging in space. Then zoom in to see your continent, then your country, your city, and finally the room you’re in. See your little self, electrical impulses whizzing across your brain. One little being having a particular experience at this particular moment. ♦ Imagine your mental chatter as coming from a radio; see if you can turn down the volume, or even just put the radio to the side and let it chatter away. ♦ Consider the worst-case outcome for your situation. Realize that whatever it is, you’ll survive. ♦ Think of all the previous times when you felt just like this—that you wouldn’t make it through—and yet clearly you did. We’re learning here to neutralize unhelpful thoughts. We want to avoid falling into the trap of arguing with them or trying to suppress them. This would only make matters worse. Consider this: if I ask you not to think of a white elephant—don’t picture a white elephant at all, please!—what’s the first thing your brain serves up? Right. Saying “No white elephants” leads to troops of white pachyderms marching through your mind. Steven Hayes and his colleagues studied our tendency to dwell on the forbidden by asking participants in controlled research studies to spend just a few minutes not thinking of a yellow jeep. For many people, the forbidden thought arose immediately, and with increasing frequency. For others, even if they were able to suppress the thought for a short period of time, at some point they broke down and yellow-jeep thoughts rose dramatically. Participants reported thinking about yellow jeeps with some frequency for days and sometimes weeks afterward. Because trying to suppress a self-critical thought only makes it more central to your thinking, it’s a far better strategy to simply aim to neutralize it. You’ve taken the first two steps in handling internal negativity: destigmatizing discomfort and neutralizing negativity. The third and final step will help you not just to lessen internal negativity but to actually replace it with a different internal reality.

For depression to take your wife to such an extreme, she had to be trapped inside her own thoughts to a point where she couldn’t perceive the ripple effect of her decision.” I look up. It’s the first time anyone has attempted to understand Maddy’s frame of mind. “Brady: she wasn’t leaving you; she was leaving her.

I keep meeting so many couples who feel trapped by the traditional concept of love. They’re actually stuck in between love and sensuality. They seek more sensuality because love, quite frankly, is just not enough. As I usually say, love is an occupation of the idle. The reason why love today doesn’t work like it used to is because we have outgrown it. Have you looked at couples these days? They are bored out of their minds with each other they don’t know what to do with themselves. Many feel trapped or like they’re letting their lives pass them by. I can’t blame them. Here’s the thing, the concept of love has to be constantly renewed (for every generation), and the only way to renew it is through evolving our sensuality. But sensuality is still a taboo in our society. If only people knew that by consistently upgrading our own sensuality we are essentially making sure that we keep love FOREVER FRESH and relevant to our ever-evolving needs (and every generation), then they would be more embracing towards this idea of sensual living. Remember, human beings are not stagnant creatures. Your partner’s needs are a constantly moving target. In fact, love is a constantly moving target. So how do you build foresight that will help you keep figuring out what (or who) your partner IS BECOMING... daily... weekly... monthly... yearly, so that you can avoid being washed out by their perpetual evolution? I believe that developing your ability to stay consistent with our own sensual growth is highly crucial in this day and age. It’s what’s going to help you survive being washed out, outgrown, or become irrelevant in your partner’s life. You’ve got to keep up. You can’t be lazy or complacent because you’re ‘in love.’ Stop using love as a security. Sensuality is the new security. Sensuality is what’s going to help you keep up with the chase of your partner's constantly evolving nature.

For depression to take your wife to such an extreme, she had to be trapped inside her own thoughts to a point where she couldn’t perceive the ripple effect of her decision.” I look up. It’s the first time anyone has attempted to understand Maddy’s frame of mind. “Brady: she wasn’t leaving you; she was leaving her.” My

In order to answer the question “Who am I?”, in order to go back to before the beginning within your own experience, you have to put your attention on the deepest sense of what it feels like to be yourself right now, and simultaneously let everything else go. Letting go means falling so deeply into yourself that all that is left is empty space. To discover that infinite depth in your own self, you must find a way to enter into a deep state of meditation—so deep that your awareness of thought moves into the background and eventually disappears. As your awareness detaches itself from the thought-stream, your identification with emotion and memory begins to fall away. When awareness of thought disappears, awareness of the passing of time disappears along with it. If you keep penetrating into the infinite depths of your own self, even your awareness of your own physical form will disappear. If you go deep enough, letting your attention expand and release from all objects in consciousness, you will find that all the structures of the created universe begin to crumble before your eyes. Awareness itself—limitless, empty, pristine—becomes the only object of your attention. As your attention is released from the conditioned mind-process, freed from the confines of the body and the boundaries of the personal self-sense, the inner dimension of your own experience begins to open up to an immeasurable degree. Imagine that you have been fast asleep in a small, dark chamber, then suddenly awaken to find yourself floating in the infinite expanse of a vast, peaceful ocean. That’s what this journey to the depths of your own self feels like. You become aware of a limitless dimension that you did not even know was there. Moments before, you may have experienced yourself as being trapped, a prisoner of your body, mind, and emotions. But when you awaken to this new dimension, all sense of confinement disappears. You find yourself resting in, and as, boundless empty space. In that empty space, the mind is completely still; there is no time, no memory, not even a trace of personal history. And the deeper you fall into that space, the more everything will continue to fall away, until finally all that will be left is you. When you let absolutely everything go—body, mind, memory, and time—you will find, miraculously, that you still exist. In fact, in the end, you discover that all that exists is you!

Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

(...) You Sophotechs are smarter than I am; why did you let me do such a foolish thing?” “We answer every question our resources and instruction parameters allow; we are more than happy to advise you, when and if we are asked.” “That’s not what I’m thinking of, and you know it.” “You are thinking we should use force to defend you against yourself against your will? That is hardly a thought worth thinking, sir. Your life has exactly the value you yourself place on it. It is yours to damage or ruin as you wish.” (...) “Is that another hint? Are you saying I’m destroying my life? People at the party, twice now, have said or implied that I’m going to endanger the Oecumene itself. Who stopped me?” “Not I. While life continues, it cannot be made to be without risk. The assessment of whether or not a certain risk is worth taking depends on subjective value-judgments. About such judgments even reasonable men can differ. We Sophotechs will not interfere with such decisions. (...) If we were to overrule your ownership of your own life, your life, would, in effect, become our property, and you, in effect, would become merely the custodian or trustee of that life. Do you think you would value it more in such a case, or less? And if you valued it less, would you not take greater risks and behave more self-destructively? If, on the other hand, each man’s life is his own, he may experiment freely, risking only what is his, till he find his best happiness.” “I see the results of failed experiments all around us, in these cylinders. I see wasted lives, and people trapped in mind sets and life forms which lead nowhere.” “While life continues, experimentation and evolution must also. The pain and risk of failure cannot be eliminated. The most we can do is maximize human freedom, so that no man is forced to pay for another man’s mistakes, so that the pain of failure falls only on he who risks it. And you do not know which ways of life lead nowhere. Even we Sophotechs do not know where all paths lead.” “How benevolent of you! We will always be free to be stupid.” “Cherish that freedom, young master; it is basic to all others.

Another way to slow down conflict is to “go to the balcony” in your own mind, as the negotiator William Ury does (or the opposite end of the island, if you happen to be on one). Remember the marriage hack? Couples made conflict healthier in their own relationships just by writing about an argument from a neutral third party’s point of view. It sounds so simple but these tricks interrupt the spiral of conflict, so we can think again.

To acquire principles that work, it’s essential that you embrace reality and deal with it well. Don’t fall into the common trap of wishing that reality worked differently than it does or that your own realities were different. Instead, embrace your realities and deal with them effectively. After all, making the most of your circumstances is what life is all about. This includes being transparent with your thoughts and open-mindedly accepting the feedback of others. Doing so will dramatically increase your learning.

Scott Barry Kaufman, scientific director of the University of Pennsylvania’s Science of Imagination Project at the Positive Psychology Center, has found that 72 percent of us come up with new, creative ideas when we’re showering. Why? According to Kaufman, “The relaxing, solitary, and non-judgmental shower environment may afford creative thinking by allowing the mind to wander freely, and causing people to be more open to their inner stream of consciousness and daydreams.”8 In other words, simplifying your environment so that you can be alone with your thoughts makes it more likely that you’ll tap into your own creativity.

You don’t believe it either?” Harry asked him. “Nah, that story’s just one of those things you tell kids to teach them lessons, isn’t it? ‘Don’t go looking for trouble, don’t pick fights, don’t go messing around with stuff that’s best left alone! Just keep your head down, mind your own business, and you’ll be okay.’ Come to think of it,” Ron added, “maybe that story’s why elder wands are supposed to be unlucky.” “What are you talking about?” “One of those superstitions, isn’t it? ‘May-born witches will marry Muggles.’ ‘Jinx by twilight, undone by midnight.’ ‘Wand of elder, never prosper.’ You must’ve heard them. My mum’s full of them.” “Harry and I were raised by Muggles,” Hermione reminded him. “We were taught different superstitions.” She sighed deeply as a rather pungent smell drifted up from the kitchen. The one good thing about her exasperation with Xenophilius was that it seemed to have made her forget that she was annoyed at Ron. “I think you’re right,” she told him. “It’s just a morality tale, it’s obvious which gift is best, which one you’d choose—” The three of them spoke at the same time; Hermione said, “the Cloak,” Ron said, “the wand,” and Harry said, “the stone.” They looked at each other, half surprised, half amused. “You’re supposed to say the Cloak,” Ron told Hermione, “but you wouldn’t need to be invisible if you had the wand. An unbeatable wand, Hermione, come on!” “We’ve already got an Invisibility Cloak,” said Harry. “And it’s helped us rather a lot, in case you hadn’t noticed!” said Hermione. “Whereas the wand would be bound to attract trouble—” “Only if you shouted about it,” argued Ron. “Only if you were prat enough to go dancing around, waving it over your head, and singing, ‘I’ve got an unbeatable wand, come and have a go if you think you’re hard enough.’ As long as you kept your trap shut—” “Yes, but could you keep your trap shut?” said Hermione, looking skeptical.

Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail. In the midst of this chopping sea of civilized life, such are the clouds and storms and quicksands and thousand-and-one items to be allowed for, that a man has to live, if he would not founder and go to the bottom and not make his port at all, by dead reckoning, and he must be a great calculator indeed who succeeds. Simplify, simplify. Instead of three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one; instead of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion. Our life is like a German Confederacy, made up of petty states, with its boundary forever fluctuating, so that even a German cannot tell you how it is bounded at any moment. The nation itself, with all its so-called internal improvements, which, by the way are all external and superficial, is just such an unwieldy and overgrown establishment, cluttered with furniture and tripped up by its own traps, ruined by luxury and heedless expense, by want of calculation and a worthy aim, as the million households in the land; and the only cure for it, as for them, is in a rigid economy, a stern and more than Spartan simplicity of life and elevation of purpose. It lives too fast. Men think that it is essential that the Nation have commerce, and export ice, and talk through a telegraph, and ride thirty miles an hour, without a doubt, whether they do or not; but whether we should live like baboons or like men, is a little uncertain. If we do not get out sleepers, and forge rails, and devote days and nights to the work, but go to tinkering upon our lives to improve them, who will build railroads? And if railroads are not built, how shall we get to heaven in season? But if we stay at home and mind our business, who will want railroads? We do not ride on the railroad; it rides upon us.

I have lost some fundamental part of my knowing, some elemental human feeling. Without it, the world feels like tap water left overnight, flat and chemical, devoid of life. I am like lightning seeking earth. Uneasy, I carry the prickle of potential energy in my limbs, ever deferred from the point of contact, the moment of release. Instead, it gathers in me, massing like a storm that never comes. I lack the language to even describe it, this vast unsettled sense that I am slipping over the glassy surface of things, afraid of what lurks beneath. I need a better way to walk through this life. I want to be enchanted again. Enchantment is small wonder magnified through meaning, fascination caught in the web of fable and memory. It relies on small doses of awe, almost homeopathic: those quiet traces of fascination that are found only when we look for them. It is the sense that we are joined together in one continuous thread of existence with the elements constituting this earth, and that there is a potency trapped in this interconnection, a tingle on the border of our perception. It is the forgotten seam of our geology, the elusive particle that binds our unstable matter: the ability to sense magic in the everyday, to channel it through our minds and bodies, to be sustained by it. Without it, I feel I am lacking some essential nutrient, some vitamin found only when you go digging in your own soil.

A community in which you always have the right and obligation to make sense of things and a process for working yourselves through disagreements—i.e., a real, functioning idea meritocracy. I want you to think, not follow—while recognizing that you can be wrong and that you have weaknesses—and I want to help you get the most likely best answers, even if you personally don’t believe that they’re the best answers. I want to give you radical open-mindedness and an idea meritocracy that will take you from being trapped in your own heads to having access to the best minds in the world to help you make the best decisions for you and for our community. I want to help you all struggle well and evolve to get the most out of life.

In this example, one could say that you’re enslaved by your body (because it has now become the mind), you’re trapped by the conditions in your environment (because the experience of people and things at a certain place and time are influencing how you think, act, and feel), and you’re lost in time (because by living in the past and anticipating the same future, your mind and body are never in the present moment). So in order to change your current state of being, you’d have to be greater than these three elements: your body, your environment, and time. So, then, thinking back to the beginning of this chapter, where you read that the placebo is created from three elements—conditioning, expectation, and meaning—you can now see that you are your own placebo. Why? Because all three elements come into play in the previous example.

THE EGO IS NOT PERSONAL On a collective level, the mind-set “We are right and they are wrong” is particularly deeply entrenched in those parts of the world where conflict between two nations, races, tribes, religions, or ideologies is long-standing, extreme, and endemic. Both sides of the conflict are equally identified with their own perspective, their own “story,” that is to say, identified with thought. Both are equally incapable of seeing that another perspective, another story, may exist and also be valid. Israeli writer Y. Halevi speaks of the possibility of “accommodating a competing narrative,”3 but in many parts of the world, people are not yet able or willing to do that. Both sides believe themselves to be in possession of the truth. Both regard themselves as victims and the “other” as evil, and because they have conceptualized and thereby dehumanized the other as the enemy, they can kill and inflict all kinds of violence on the other, even on children, without feeling their humanity and suffering. They become trapped in an insane spiral of perpetration and retribution, action and reaction.

There’s no way to tell him, if she tried she knows she’d only start crying, that there’s this girl in England who’s never met him and never will and he’s saved her life more times over than he’ll ever know, because she knows Blackbindings - Blackbindings who writes like an angel, like she knows what suffering is and she knows how much knowing that matters, who writes so far beyond her years with the sort of control Draxie knows she’ll never have - Blackbindings who is so shy she can barely bring herself to reblog anything, Blackbindings who just has one of the sweetest, quietest, kindest souls Draxie thinks she’s ever known and the sort of brain chemistry that you fight every day of your life, she doesn’t know if Blackbindings would still be here if it wasn’t for him. If she was trapped in this world that breaks her heart and breaks her down, she doesn’t know how long that girl would have lasted if she didn’t think about him being brave for everyone else, caring about everyone else, maybe caring about her, trapped in her own mind an ocean away, using up all the strength she has just to not hurt herself. There are weeks when she cries every single day. And thinks about him, she says. And then she can make herself breathe.

The Hatter To understand what they did to the Hatter, I must first tell you about people who know how to play with your brokenness like it is a fidget spinner without so much as touching your skin—a form of abuse known as gaslighting.   You say it happened, they say it did not.   You say it had to, they say it cannot.   They pull at a thread of pain left by someone in your mind, and sew an entire ghost out of you.   Build you a dark wonderland and ask you to call it home. Tell you, ‘Why can’t you just be happy?’ And you cannot because happiness in this story is a queen you do not trust being built from your own delusions.   When this happens, you are like the Hatter. Trapped here in this fairytale world, half mad because someone you love keeps lying to you. Is this rain, dear? No it isn’t, it’s a raven.   Is this a door? No, it is a writing desk.   Is this my mind? No, it is now my rabbit hole, and I’m going to make you fall so far down there is no way out.   This is why the raven becomes like a writing desk, nonsensical riddles and memories become valid, nothing makes sense anymore anyway.   You start wondering if anything you ever thought happened to you actually happened to you and this is their violence. This is their abuse. It has left bruises and gashes along your brain that no one else knows are there.   Doubting yourself is now a reflex. Trusting yourself is no longer muscle memory but a long, strenuous process.   They called the Hatter completely mad. Because he is cursed to both remember and to forget. They call me mad too because my curse is to heal through remembering everything you tried to make me forget.

I couldn't read, and it had almost killed me. I hadn't even won properly. I sank to my knees, letting the platform carry me, and covered my face in my shaking hands. Tears burned just before pain seared through my left arm. I would never beat the third task. I would never free Tamlin, or his people. The pain shot through my bones again, and through my increasing hysteria, I heard words inside my head that stopped me short. Don't let her see you cry. Put your hands at your sides and stand up. I couldn't. I couldn't move. Stand. Don't give her the satisfaction of seeing you break. My knees and spine, not entirely of my own will, forced me upright, and when the ground at last stopped moving, I looked at Amarantha with tearless eyes. Good, Rhysand told me. Stare her down. No tears- wait until you're back in your cell. Amarantha's face was drawn and white, her black eyes like onyx as she beheld me. I had won, but I should be dead. I should be squashed, my blood oozing everywhere. Count to ten. Don't look at Tamlin. Just stare at her. I obeyed. It was the only thing that kept me from giving in to the sobs trapped within my chest, thundering to get out. I willed myself to meet Amarantha's gaze. It was cold and vast and full of ancient malice, but I held it. I counted to ten. Good girl. Now walk away. Turn on your heel- good. Walk toward the door. Keep your chin high. Let the crowd part. One step after another. I listened to him, let him keep me tethered to sanity as I was escorted back to my cell by the guards-who still kept their distance. Rhysand's words echoed through my mind, holding me together. But when my cell door closed, he went silent, and I dropped to the floor and wept.

Tamlin's claws punched out. 'Even if I risked it, you're untrained abilities render your presence more of a liability than anything.' It was like being hit with stones- so hard I could feel myself cracking. But I lifted my chin and said, 'I'm coming along whether you want me to or not.' 'No, you aren't.' He strode right through the door, his claws slashing the air at his sides, and was halfway down the steps before I reached the threshold. Where I slammed into an invisible wall. I staggered back, trying to reorder my mind around the impossibility of it. It was identical to the one I'd built that day in the study, and I searched inside the shards of my soul, my heart, for a tether to that shield, wondering if I'd blocked myself, but- there was no power emanating from me. I reached a hand to the open air of the doorway. And met solid resistance. 'Tamlin,' I rasped. But he was already down the front drive, walking towards the looming iron gates. Lucien remained at the foot of the stairs, his face so, so pale. 'Tamlin,' I said again, pushing against the wall. He didn't turn. I slammed my hand into the invisible barrier. No movement- nothing but hardened air. And I had not learned about my own powers enough to try to push through, to shatter it... I had let him convince me not to learn those things for his sake- 'Don't bother trying,' Lucien said softly, as Tamlin cleared the gates and vanished- winnowed. 'He shielded the entire house around you. Others can go in and out, but you can't. Not until he lifts the shield.' He'd locked me in here. I hit the shield again. Again. Nothing. 'Just- be patient, Feyre,' Lucien tried, wincing as he followed after Tamlin. 'Please. I'll see what I can do. I'll try again.' I barely heard him over the roar in my ears. Didn't wait to see him pass the gates and winnow, too. He'd locked me in. He'd sealed me inside the house. I hurtled for the nearest window in the foyer and shoved it open. A cool spring breeze rushed in- and I shoved my hand through it- only for my fingers to bounce off an invisible wall. Smooth, hard air pushed against my skin. Breathing became difficult. I was trapped. I was trapped inside this house. I might as well have been Under the Mountain. I might as well have been inside that cell again- I backed away, my steps too light, too fast, and slammed into the oak table in the centre of the foyer. None of the nearby sentries came to investigate. He'd trapped me in here; he'd locked me up. I stopped seeing the marble floor, or the paintings on the walls, or the sweeping staircase looming behind me. I stopped hearing the chirping of the spring birds, or the sighing of the breeze through the curtains. And then crushing black pounded down and rose up beneath, devouring and roaring and shredding. It was all I could do to keep from screaming, to keep from shattering into ten thousand pieces as I sank onto the marble floor, bowing over my knees, and wrapped my arms around myself. He'd trapped me; he'd trapped me; he'd trapped me- I had to get out, because I'd barely escaped from another prison once before, and this time, this time- Winnowing. I could vanish into nothing but air and appear somewhere else, somewhere open and free. I fumbled for my power, for anything, something that might show me the way to do it, the way out. Nothing. There was nothing and I had become nothing, and I couldn't even get out- Someone was shouting my name from far away. Alis- Alis. But I was ensconced in a cocoon of darkness and fire and ice and wind, a cocoon that melted the ring off my finger until the folden ore dripped away into the void, the emerald tumbling after it. I wrapped that raging force around myself as if it could keep the walls from crushing me entirely, and maybe, maybe buy me the tiniest sip of air- I couldn't get out; I couldn't get out; I couldn't get out-

She looked down at the man. His face appeared different than the first time she had seen him, as if he'd fought some battle and won. A peacefulness stole over her, causing her to take a deep breath. She closed her eyes, breathing deeply. His scent filled her mind and her fingers began to glide through his hair, exploring the shape of his head, then his temples, then down to the sharp plain of his cheekbones. "Come back, my duke," she whispered. "I have need to see thee fattened up and shouting orders." Suddenly she felt a touch on her cheek. Caught in the dreamlike spell, she turned into the hand without opening her eyes. As she had done, he caressed her cheek. Now his thumb ran along the line of her jaw. When fingers touched her lips, her eyes fluttered open. "Your voice saved me." His own was raspy and deep, but gratitude glowed in the dark pools that were his eyes. And he was even more devastatingly attractive with them open. Serena drew a sharp breath, wanting to get up, both trapped beneath his weight and that of his words. "Thou hast been very sick." She strained to right her senses. When she started to slide out from under his head, he grasped her hand with surprising strength. "Stay." "I must not. My father will be back soon." "Have we reached Philadelphia then?" "Yes. The others have already been sold. 'Tis fortunate thee wert so ill and escaped the soul-drivers, sir." As she spoke, she slid out from beneath his head and refilled his cup. "Here, have another drink, and thou wilt hear the tale." He smiled at her with such a look that she thought she might melt into the wood f the floor. "A long story, I hope. I would listen to your voice forever." Heat surged to her cheeks, her gaze dropping to the floor. Her mind told her how inappropriate it was to behave like this with a complete stranger. And yet, it was as if other parts of her- her heart, her soul, her very skin- knew him as deeply as she knew herself.

Simplicity, simplicity, simplicity! I say, let your affairs be as two or three, and not a hundred or a thousand; instead of a million count half a dozen, and keep your accounts on your thumb-nail. In the midst of this chopping sea of civilized life, such are the clouds and storms and quicksands and thousand-and-one items to be allowed for, that a man has to live, if he would not founder and go to the bottom and not make his port at all, by dead reckoning, and he must be a great calculator indeed who succeeds. Simplify, simplify. Instead of three meals a day, if it be necessary eat but one; instead of a hundred dishes, five; and reduce other things in proportion. Our life is like a German Confederacy, made up of petty states, with its boundary forever fluctuating, so that even a German cannot tell you how it is bounded at any moment. The nation itself, with all its so-called internal improvements, which, by the way are all external and superficial, is just such an unwieldy and overgrown establishment, cluttered with furniture and tripped up by its own traps, ruined by luxury and heedless expense, by want of calculation and a worthy aim, as the million households in the land; and the only cure for it, as for them, is in a rigid economy, a stern and more than Spartan simplicity of life and elevation of purpose. It lives too fast. Men think that it is essential that the Nation have commerce, and export ice, and talk through a telegraph, and ride thirty miles an hour, without a doubt, whether they do or not; but whether we should live like baboons or like men, is a little uncertain. If we do not get out sleepers, and forge rails, and devote days and nights to the work, but go to tinkering upon our lives to improve them, who will build railroads? And if railroads are not built, how shall we get to heaven in season? But if we stay at home and mind our business, who will want railroads? We do not ride on the railroad; it rides upon us. Did you ever think what those sleepers are that underlie the railroad? Each one is a man, an Irishman, or a Yankee man.

Madness is an insidious disease. We do not see the danger until it is too late. It creeps into the cracks and crevices of the mind and makes itself at home, like carpenter ants in the framing of a home. We do not know the floor has rotted away until one ill-timed step destroys the façade of normalcy. But carpenter ants do not destroy a home. They change it. As matter cannot be destroyed, they consume the structures we have built and rearrange it for their own use. While a home beset by such insects might seem uninhabitable for those who look at the situation from the outside, to the ants it was the intended outcome. We might inspect the foundation and find it derelict and dilapidated. We might scoff and say that anyone who lives within such a place is idiotic, and that they should have not neglected it in such a way. And, in extreme cases, they should move. Consider this metaphor in relation to one’s mind. That place in which we spend the entirety of our mortal lives. What happens when your home is beset by insects then? One cannot move out of one’s own mind, try as we might. We are trapped within these structures of ours, for better or worse and come what may. We must make do with what we are given and what we have left. Whereas you or I in our daily lives might seek a new homestead in such an infestation, in this labyrinth of the psyche, we cannot. There are different ways that a consciousness, once gnawed and riddled with holes, might come to adapt to such a state of being. Consider three men with this dilemma, if you will. The first man may seek to repair the damage—replace the eaten portions and shore up the foundations. This man is pragmatic, but shortsighted. He treats the symptoms, but not the cause. The second may seek to exterminate the infestation—to seek the illness at the root and rip it out. This man is wise, but must need act quickly before the house collapses around him. The third man merely laughs—he accepts his new state of being and does nothing to repair his home. He declares himself King of the Ants, lifts up hammer and sledge, and tears the remaining walls apart with his own two hands. You might think that man the fool. You might think him a harmless, laughing lunatic. It is a mistake that leads to ruin. For that man is the most dangerous of them all. -M. L. Harrow

Cassian said, 'You didn't think you were essential. You saved our asses, yes, but... you didn't think you were essential here.' One-two, one-two, one-two. 'I'm not.' He opened his mouth but I charged ahead, speaking around my gasps for breath. 'You all have a... duty- you're all vital. Yes, I have my own abilities, but... You and Azriel were hurt, my sisters were... you know what happened to them. I did what I could to get us out. I'd rather it was me than any of you. I couldn't have lived with the alternative.' His upraised hands were unfaltering as I pummelled them. 'Anything could have happened to you at the Spring Court.' I stopped again. 'If Rhys isn't grilling me with the overprotective bullshit, then I don't see why you-' 'Don't for one moment think that Rhys wasn't beside himself with worry. Oh, he seems collected enough, Feyre, but I know him. And every moment you were gone, he was in a panic. Yes, he knew- we knew- you could handle yourself. But it doesn't stop us from worrying.' I shook out my sore hands, then rubbed my already-aching arms. 'You were mad at him, too.' 'If I hadn't been healing, I would have kicked his ass from one end of Velaris to the other.' I didn't reply. 'We were all terrified for you.' 'I managed just fine.' 'Of course you did. We knew you would. But...' Cassian crossed his arms. 'Rhys pulled the same shit fifty years ago. When he went to that damned party Amarantha threw.' Oh. Oh. 'I'll never forget it, you know,' he said, blowing out a breath. 'The moment when he spoke to us all, mind to mind. When I realised what was happening, and that... he'd saved us. Trapped us here and tied our hands, but...' He scratched at his temple. 'It went quiet- in my head. In a way it hadn't been before. Not since...' Cassian squinted at the cloudless sky. 'Even with utter hell unleashing here, across our territory. I just went... quiet.' He tapped the side of his head with a finger, and frowned. 'After Hybern, the healer kept me asleep while she worked on my wings. So when I woke up two weeks later... that's when I heard. And when Mor told me what happened to you... It went quiet again.' I swallowed against the constriction of my throat. 'You found me when I needed you most, Cassian.' 'Pleased to be of service.' He gave me a grim smile. 'You can rely on us, you know. Both of us. He's inclined to do everything himself- to give everything of himself. He can't stand to let anyone else offer up anything.' That smile faded. 'Neither can you.

ever. Amen. Thank God for self-help books. No wonder the business is booming. It reminds me of junior high school, where everybody was afraid of the really cool kids because they knew the latest, most potent putdowns, and were not afraid to use them. Dah! But there must be another reason that one of the best-selling books in the history of the world is Men Are From Mars, Women Are From Venus by John Gray. Could it be that our culture is oh so eager for a quick fix? What a relief it must be for some people to think “Oh, that’s why we fight like cats and dogs, it is because he’s from Mars and I am from Venus. I thought it was just because we’re messed up in the head.” Can you imagine Calvin Consumer’s excitement and relief to get the video on “The Secret to her Sexual Satisfaction” with Dr. GraySpot, a picture chart, a big pointer, and an X marking the spot. Could that “G” be for “giggle” rather than Dr. “Graffenberg?” Perhaps we are always looking for the secret, the gold mine, the G-spot because we are afraid of the real G-word: Growth—and the energy it requires of us. I am worried that just becoming more educated or well-read is chopping at the leaves of ignorance but is not cutting at the roots. Take my own example: I used to be a lowly busboy at 12 East Restaurant in Florida. One Christmas Eve the manager fired me for eating on the job. As I slunk away I muttered under my breath, “Scrooge!” Years later, after obtaining a Masters Degree in Psychology and getting a California license to practice psychotherapy, I was fired by the clinical director of a psychiatric institute for being unorthodox. This time I knew just what to say. This time I was much more assertive and articulate. As I left I told the director “You obviously have a narcissistic pseudo-neurotic paranoia of anything that does not fit your myopic Procrustean paradigm.” Thank God for higher education. No wonder colleges are packed. What if there was a language designed not to put down or control each other, but nurture and release each other to grow? What if you could develop a consciousness of expressing your feelings and needs fully and completely without having any intention of blaming, attacking, intimidating, begging, punishing, coercing or disrespecting the other person? What if there was a language that kept us focused in the present, and prevented us from speaking like moralistic mini-gods? There is: The name of one such language is Nonviolent Communication. Marshall Rosenberg’s Nonviolent Communication provides a wealth of simple principles and effective techniques to maintain a laser focus on the human heart and innocent child within the other person, even when they have lost contact with that part of themselves. You know how it is when you are hurt or scared: suddenly you become cold and critical, or aloof and analytical. Would it not be wonderful if someone could see through the mask, and warmly meet your need for understanding or reassurance? What I am presenting are some tools for staying locked onto the other person’s humanness, even when they have become an alien monster. Remember that episode of Star Trek where Captain Kirk was turned into a Klingon, and Bones was freaking out? (I felt sorry for Bones because I’ve had friends turn into Cling-ons too.) But then Spock, in his cool, Vulcan way, performed a mind meld to determine that James T. Kirk was trapped inside the alien form. And finally Scotty was able to put some dilithium crystals into his phaser and destroy the alien cloaking device, freeing the captain from his Klingon form. Oh, how I wish that, in my youth or childhood,

But as the daylight began to come through the curtains, I knew I was facing something for which I had not been prepared. It was a curious sensation, like suddenly feeling cold water round your feet, then feeling it slowly rising up your legs. It took me some time to realize that they were attacking from some part of my mind of whose existence I was unaware. I had been strong because I was fighting them out of knowledge, but I should have known that my knowledge of mind was pitifully small. I was like an astronomer who knows the solar system, and thinks he knows the universe. What the parasites were doing was to attack me from below my knowledge of myself. It is true that I had given some small thought to the matter; but I had—rightly—postponed it as a study for a more advanced period. I had reflected often enough that our human life is based completely on ‘premises’ that we take for granted. A child takes its parents and its home for granted; later, it comes to take its country and its society for granted. We need these supports to begin with. A child without parents and a regular home grows up feeling insecure. A child that has had a good home may later learn to criticize its parents, or even reject them altogether (although this is unlikely); but it only does so when it is strong enough to stand alone. All original thinkers develop by kicking away these ‘supports’ one by one. They may continue to love their parents and their country, but they love from a position of strength—a strength that began in rejection. In fact, though, human beings never really learn to stand alone. They are lazy, and prefer supports. A man may be a fearlessly original mathematician, and yet be slavishly dependent on his wife. He may be a powerful free thinker, yet derive a great deal more comfort than he would admit from the admiration of a few friends and disciples. In short, human beings never question all their supports; they question a few, and continue to take the rest for granted. Now I had been so absorbed in the adventure of entering new mental continents, rejecting my old personality and its assumptions, that I had been quite unaware that I was still leaning heavily on dozens of ordinary assumptions. For example, although I felt my identity had changed, I still had a strong feeling of identity. And our most fundamental sense of identity comes from an anchor that lies at the bottom of a very deep sea. I still looked upon myself as a member of the human race. I still looked upon myself as an inhabitant of the solar system and the universe in space and time. I took space and time for granted. I did not ask where I had been before my birth or after my death. I did not even recognize the problem of my own death; it was something I left ‘to be explored later’. What the parasites now did was to go to these deep moorings of my identity, and proceed to shake them. I cannot express it more clearly than this. They did not actually, so to speak, pull up the anchors. That was beyond their powers. But they shook the chains, so that I suddenly became aware of an insecurity on a level I had taken completely for granted. I found myself asking: Who am I? In the deepest sense. Just as a bold thinker dismisses patriotism and religion, so I dismissed all the usual things that gave me an ‘identity’: the accident of my time and place of birth, the accident of my being a human being rather than a dog or a fish, the accident of my powerful instinct to cling to life. Having thrown off all these accidental ‘trappings’, I stood naked as pure consciousness confronting the universe. But here I became aware that this so-called ‘pure consciousness’ was as arbitrary as my name. It could not confront the universe without sticking labels on it. How could it be ‘pure consciousness’ when I saw that object as a book, that one as a table? It was still my tiny human identity looking out of my eyes. And if I tried to get beyond it, everything went blank.

Just a moon ago, at dawn, I was drunk. Very drunk. I wasn’t thinking of you. You were the last thing on my mind. I was trying to get up from where I lay on the riverbank without falling in. I couldn’t tell the water from the sky. I was seeing two skies and two rivers and knew that if I took a wrong step I would probably drown, and I was deciding whether or not that would be a bad thing. The next thing I knew I was in the center of the river on that flat rock you used to sit on, and I looked up into the sky, and suddenly my vision cleared. I knew that you wanted me back. I knew, at that moment, we were both seeing into your heart.” She didn’t tell him that was probably the morning the baby came, but he saw her struggle and her resignation and her surprise. There’s no real reason for this, she thought. There’s no good reason. I can’t believe such nonsense, but it happened. I don’t know my own mind even now when he’s standing right in front of me, so dear, so beautiful, and much too good. Much too good. Why can’t I have his faith? Rising Hawk watched her face, and he began to believe that if he could just touch her, kiss her the way he had on the trail, she would give in. But then she said, “Rising Hawk. Would you do something for me?” Her voice suggested some new torment. His vulnerable expression fled. He wasn’t going to be made to look like a fool. Not even by Livy, no matter how dear she was to him. He thought about the winter. She made him laugh. Most of the time, she made him happy. They all believed she still had him bewitched. Maybe she did. Against his better judgment and his gut feeling, he felt himself nod yes. She took a deep breath. “Turn around and walk away.” “What?” “Turn around and walk away.” She had done all the thinking she could. By itself it held no answers. This was her last chance. “That’s what you want?” “Yes.” His next words had to fight their way out. His teeth were set like a bear trap. “I don’t know why I love you. It never makes any sense to me. Nothing about you does.” He turned. Livy watched him walk away. His familiar stride, the way he held his head, and the slight limp helped her remember the trail, their strange journey, and the gunshot. It’s not fair, she told herself as the pain of seeing him walk away one last time took hold of her. “It’s not enough,” she said aloud in an angry sob that rose in her throat and nearly choked her next words. “But I can’t help it. I can’t, and I don’t care anymore. I don’t care. Rising Hawk, wait!” she called, and broke into a run. He slowed at the sound of her voice and looked over his shoulder. The old smile returned to his face, gentle, mocking, assured. He didn’t wait for her to reach him, but turned to meet her halfway.

To add to the problem, it turns out your neural pathways cement themselves in the case of traumatic events. The result is that some people respond to reminders of stimuli, a condition known as post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). This trauma-induced reprogramming of the brain explains why it's impossible for many veterans to enjoy Fourth of July fireworks, for example. Their limbic system, the creamy nougat center of the human brain where our memories and emotional lives are housed, has coded “explosion” with “danger,” and so when these veterans hear fireworks, they react as they would, as any of us would, to a bomb going off nearby. From the outside, this condition may appear simple to correct. They're fireworks, not bombs, after all. But neuroimaging proves that when people are merely reminded of trauma, blood flow ramps up in the brain structures associated with extreme emotions and decreases in the areas associated with communication. The sufferer essentially becomes trapped in their own fear, at the mercy of neural patterns. The good news is that writing therapy, along with other mindfulness practices, including dialectical behavior therapy, art therapy, yoga, Qigong, tai chi, Alexander Technique, and meditation, allows you to reprogram your brain. You can literally change your mind.

It’s good to have a melting pot of friends. You need a little variety in your life. It’s like music. We’re all different and play our own instruments, but to make music, real, beautiful music, you gotta blend together.

I cannot stress this enough: content creators need to stop comparing their work with that of total strangers. Furthermore, we need to stop seeing ourselves as content consumers and realize that, as producers, we need time and distance from what is already out there in order to create truly innovative work. If you are always exposing your mind to others’ work, when will you gain the strength to create your own? Find a balance between inspiration and creation, and make sure that the first is indeed inspiring. What might start as a journey to gather ideas can quickly become a shortcut to discouragement. Know when to stop.

When at last she scooted over to him, Hunter experienced a feeling like none he had ever felt. It went beyond satisfaction, beyond contentment. Having her fair head on his shoulder felt perfectly right, as if the Great Ones had hollowed the spot for her long ago, and he had been waiting all his life for her to fill it. He curled his arm around her, his hand on her back. “It is good, eh?” She placed a palm lightly on his chest. In a dubious tone she replied, “Yes, it is good.” Another silence settled over them. He measured the thrums of her heart beneath his hand, pleased that the rhythm no longer reminded him of the frantic wing beats of a trapped bird. Staring at the conical roof, he longed for the weariness he had pretended. It didn’t come. He was relieved when she broke the silence. “Hunter, what did you mean when you said you had made no talk of marriage because I’m a White Eyes?” He brushed his lips across the top of her head, loving the flower smell that still clung to her hair. He would never again smell springtime and not think of her. “My chief wife will be a woman of my own blood.” He felt her stiffen and, seeking to mollify her, added, “You can be second wife, eh? Or third?” To his surprise she bolted upright, shaking again, this time in anger. With an indignant lift of her small chin, she flung herself away from him. “You are angry?” Her reply was frigid silence. “Blue Eyes, what wrong words have I said?” “What have you said?” Hunter frowned. “It would not please you to marry with me? Better a wife than a slave, yes?” “I will never play second fiddle, never!” Hunter studied her, trying to figure out why she had switched the topic of conversation from marriage to making music. “How dare you!” she cried. “Of all the-- You arrogant, simple-- Oh, never mind! Just you understand this! Amongst my people, a man has one wife, only one, and he looks at no other, thinks of no other, touches no other, until death do they part. I wouldn’t marry you if you got on your knees and begged me!

you can imitate unselfishness. You can go through all sorts of highly refined forms of unselfishness, but you are still tied to the wheel of becoming by the golden chains of your good deeds, just as obviously bad people are tied to it by the iron chains of their misbehaviors. This manifests in many ways—from spiritually proud people who believe they possess the one true teaching, to those who claim they are the most tolerant and inclusive and accepting, which is only a game called being more tolerant and inclusive and accepting than everybody else. The egocentric being is always in its own trap.

describes training in which you think about the existence of truth or Buddha and then become trapped by your thoughts. There are various interpretations of Shojo Zen, but here I think it would suffice to simply interpret it as believing in the truth of Dharma but lacking in the altruistic spirit of sharing your understanding of Buddhist Truth with others. You are too intent on your own gain and think only of your desire for the perfection of your own personality. As for the fourth kind of Zen, Daijo Zen (Great Vehicle Zen), Master Shumitsu called it training in which you are enlightened by the realization that the ego and the Dharma are both empty.

My personal note about love - There is no true love as far as my knowledge only attachments and vibrations that keep two souls and bodies for sometime and then they sperate. Somehow if they are trapped what is so called as social bondage i e Marriage, then they have responsibilities, children to make and nurture them. But world needs human resources so marriage is needed but here the concept of marriage in south and north. concept of marriage in south india is different than concept of marriage in north india where manu smiriti is written and rajputs (My previous life clans) dominates. Bhramin concept of marriage is totally unique. so when you love someone within your culture it becomes strong family bondage that is hard to break but that affects organization you work, if you inter marry concept of trust may break anytime, that is why north rajputs follow the concept of vibrations in love but that is not suitable in south india. And because of sexual activities it affects the society and ecology. So finally for my personal choice which is true true true love is almost impossible anywhere even within same culture or inter culture because both have their own pros and cons and trust issues, that is why i choose to be single but if I marry then I will keep my marrital relationship out of context or out of my organization or institution where i am going to. Sex is primary desire for men and women and also for theird genders. In western concept sex has gone into multiple varieties even incest nature. It is now difficult to classify which one is right and which one is wrong becaus they context specific and completely personal but problem is where legality is touching. So my personal choice is if getting married whatever community the girl is from I will keep it out of my research institutional context but most probably i will not marry as I am not sure about immorality and where immorality comes into touch and it may get against the meaning of what is ganapathy. Ganapathy should never be immoral nor his wife. so i will most probably be single and friendly to anyone, any sex, any nationality but i will keep recording each every aspect of science and where immorality comes to. And when i choose to die, I will write all about science and immorality and spirtulism and souls desire. Prostituion or porn industry can never be avoided completely nor should be avoided as it researches about human emotions. they are track records of human evolution. But I see these prostitutes and porn industry as a tool for finding where immorality comes forward. And inside research institutions whereever I am going to I will keep observing everything that goes in science. Traditional and modern science both i will keep on observing for sure. So finally if i marry somehow whomever it is, the girl should be out of my research working context or completely same mind set. And My marriage should not ruin the name of Ganapathy so they girl i choose will be very specific that can not ruin my names reputation at any cost. the girl i touch should be fire that fires other guys if they desire for her and she fires other girls that try to reach me

Infinity of your thoughts Time does not seem to pass, As moments appear to be frozen in an unknown thought, I try hard to bypass, This eerie feeling and the war always lost yet often fought, And I wonder what is this feeling, This enigmatic state of endless time, With which I have now been for very long dealing, A state where time no longer remembers it is time, Then in this moment, Where infinity is cast in a battle with finity, Time remains suspended in an uncertain moment, Where every virtue exists except for certainty, As the war rages and both lose, Infinity retreats to its zone while finity retains its domain, And time that had been held trapped in this noose, Now attains its lost state and claims its lost domain, That spreads across infinity in the subsets of finity, Then my darling Irma, I love you infinitely, Because now there is certainty, And I want you to know, you are my only joy, my moment in time, my eternity, As time resumes its pace, I think of you in the lanes of my mind, And within it I discover our space, Where time still lies trapped, and it does not mind, This existence in a moment where infinity lies everywhere, The infinity of your feelings, your memories and your beauty, And there I lie thinking of you always somewhere, To feed the appetite of our love and its eternity, So if you ever talk to me my love, Maybe I am thinking in this corner feeding the infinity, Of your beauty and our love, To steal from time, from fate, from the Universe, our destiny, Where you lie within me, And we lie in this space of infinity, You loving me and I loving thee, Discovering the charms of your beauty, That is where my love I shall be, If you ever talk to me and you still need to find me, Walk into my mind, but tread softly for you shall be treading over infinity, Where I have spread my feelings just for thee, only thee, And as you behold me, Do not hesitate to wake me up, There in the corner of my mind where I shall always be, Kiss me and wake me up, Then let me cast you into the infinity of my mind and its thoughts, And reveal your own beauty to you, And as you wake up in the infinity of my thoughts, Allow me to cast the veil of infinity bearing your beauty and you, Then let time stop forever, Because now there shall be no need of new thoughts or new feelings, And we shall now exist forever, and forever, In infinities impenetrable ceilings, Where everything is just you and me, Nothing else, and where nothing exists, You and I lying in an eternally amorous state and what a wonder it shall be, Because now there is no identity, I am you and you are me, And both of us surrounded by eternity, In the universe where we have created our own space beyond every scalable limit, And we have become the masters of our own destiny, With nothing to include and nothing to omit, Because there is only one need, Your love for me and my love for you, And there is nothing to worry about or heed, Just your beauty and you, only you, in an endless existence where it is only you, Everywhere, here and there and even that space that time refers to as somewhere, There we lie wound on every loop of infinity, To spread with it everywhere, And believe in the beauty of our singular destiny!

One thing leads to another in this world, Flamen, and we human beings get dragged along like—like dead leaves spinning in the wake of a skimmer. Diablo was saying a while back how you fine down your principles so that a machine can handle them, and pretty soon the person using the machine comes to imagine that this is how it’s always been— there never was a subtler way of thinking. That’s some of where it’s at, but it’s not all by any means. Take the fine expensive home you live in, with its automatic defenses and its mines sown under the lawn like daffodil-bulbs. You shut yourself up behind armor-plate, you shut your mind too. You advertise Guardian traps on your show, don’t you—those steel bands spiked like an Iron Maiden? What’s the mentality of someone who’s prepared to come home from visiting neighbors and find a corpse hung up in the doorway? I say he’s already insane when he commits himself to that course of action, and you don’t have to wait for him to lose his marbles under an overdose of Ladromide before he stops thinking as a responsible mature person ought to! And what’s the reason that’s advanced for acting this way?” He rounded on Reedeth. “You know! You probably have it dinned into you a dozen times a day at your work! ‘Be an individual!’” Conroy contrived to make the slogan sound obscene. “And what’s this been twisted into? The biggest Big Lie in history! It’s no use making your life so private you refuse to learn from other people’s experience—you just get stuck in a groove of mistakes you need never have made. We have more knowledge available at the turn of a switch than ever before, we can bring any part of the world into our own homes, and what do we do with it? Half the time we advertise goods people can’t afford, and anyhow they’ve got the color and hold controls adrift because the pretty patterns are fun to look at when you’ve bolted and barred your mind with drugs. Split! Divide! Separate! Shut your eyes and maybe it’ll go away! “We mine our gardens, we close our frontiers, we barricade our cities with Macnamara lines to shut off black from white, we divide, divide, divide!” A stamp emphasized each repetition of the word. “It gets into our families, goddamn it, it gets into our very love-making! Christ, do you know I had a girl student last year who thought she was having an affair with a boy back home and all they’d ever done was sit in front of the comweb and masturbate at each other? Twenty miles apart! They’d never even kissed! We’re going insane, our whole blasted species—we’re heading for screaming ochlophobia! Another couple of generations and husbands will be afraid to be alone in the same room with their wives, mothers will be afraid of their babies, if there are any babies!

Think about that for a moment: I wish I were feeling happier. How do you feel now? You probably feel worse. This is because you focused on the gap between how you feel and how you want to feel. And focusing on the gap highlighted it. The mind sees the gap as a problem to be solved. This approach is disastrous when it comes to your emotions because of the intricate interconnection between your thoughts, emotions and bodily sensations. They all feed into each other and, left unchecked, can drive your thinking in very distressing directions. Very quickly, you can become trapped inside your own thoughts

Enchantment is small wonder magnified through meaning, fascination caught in the web of fable and memory. It relies on small doses of awe, almost homeopathic: those quiet traces of fascination that are found only when we look for them. It is the sense that we are joined together in one continuous thread of existence with the elements constituting this earth, and that there is a potency trapped in this interconnection, a tingle on the border of our perception. It is the forgotten seam in our geology, the elusive particle that binds our unstable matter: the ability to sense magic in the everyday, to channel it through our minds and bodies, to be sustained by it. Without it, I feel I am lacking some essential nutrient, some vitamin found only when you go digging in your own soil.

How to look a demon in the eye It’s easy to want to run away from bad feelings. When we feel sadness or fear we greet them as problems to be instantly solved or dismissed. I can remember that when I was first in the middle of a deep depression, I wasn’t just feeling depressed. I was feeling depressed about feeling depressed. Anxious about feeling anxious. And so, inevitably, the negative feelings kept on multiplying themselves. The key to recovery lay in acceptance. This was the paradox. To escape depression I had to get to a point where I accepted it. To stop having panic attacks I had to get to a point where I almost invited them. I would feel that sudden heightened alertness symptomatic of panic, and I would say to myself I want this. This is not a strategy you should necessarily follow. And I certainly don’t mean to belittle the horror of a full-blown panic attack. I know as well as anyone how utterly terrifying it can be to feel trapped in your own mind when it is in total freefall. But after a hundred or so panic attacks I realized something about them. They were self-referential. They fueled themselves. I mean: the panic became worse because I was panicking about the panic. It is a rolling snowball of its own making. But if I stopped myself being frozen about the panic, if I melted into a state of acceptance, the panic snowball ended up running out of the ice-cold terror and couldn’t grow. Eventually it would float right through. My mind would watch the panic rather than fight it. A totally different type of engagement. Sometimes, situation permitting, rather than trying to ignore the panic or walk it off, I would just lie down on the floor and close my eyes and really focus on it. And when you really analyze fear you realize, first, that it is only a natural part of us. And second, that it is the sister of hope. Because both are born from the uncertain fabric of life. In Tibetan the word re-dok is a portmanteau of the words rewa (hope) and dokpa (fear), acknowledging they coexist and both stem from essentially the same thing—uncertainty. When we analyze rather than evade our darkest fears, we learn that even our largest demons are not as invincible as they first appear. Often, when we stare at them, deeply, they disintegrate before our eyes.

Our malleable brains as children make us amazing learners, receptive to every experience and primed to take any shape our culture decrees. Think, for example, about how a child born in a multicultural home can grow up to speak two or three languages fluently. But it also causes us to take on all forms of childhood conditioning. Ever notice how often a child asks why? The typical parent’s response to the steady barrage of why, why, why is usually something along the lines of: “Because I said so.” “Because that’s the way it is.” “Because God wanted it this way.” “Because Dad says you need to do it.” Statements like these cause children to get trapped in a thicket of Brules they may not even realize are open to question. Those children grow up to become adults trapped by restrictions and rules that they have taken to be “truth.” Thus we absorb the rules transmitted by culture and act in the world based on these beliefs. Much of this conditioning is in place before the age of nine, and we may carry many of these beliefs until we die—until or unless we learn to challenge them.

Do you like this series?” “Eh…yeah. I love it…” “Do you? So what are your feelings on the holy knight’s valet?” “You mean Edgar? Eh…well, I totally love him?!? ‘To put others before oneself.’ He’s a fine man who’s not afraid of getting hurt while protecting others! Gosh, I mean I completely understand why the readers would love him, he’s my favo—” “Tch…!” “Tch…!?” “…Ohh, I see. Hate to tell you…but I…utterly despise that piece of shit known as Edgar…!! He talks so self righteously, it pisses me off.” “Eh…” “Self-sacrifice makes me wanna puke.” “No way…!” “Why the hell’s a guy like him so popular? I mean, it’s obnoxious that even in the story, the other characters love him so blindly!” “Hey…how could you!? After I told you I liked him..!” “This is how I feel, so I can’t help it. Most of all, I can’t stomach his final moments. He laid down his life to protect his master…and went and died alone while praying for the happiness of those dear to him…just what part of a guy like that’s so great-!!?” “EH!? Edgar…dies…” “? He did…right? Around the middle of volume sixteen, I think it was…” “Uwaaaaaaah!! That is such a spoiler—!!” “Huuh!? Not my problem!! Any real fan would have read it already! Hey don’t get all up in my face!!” “Shut you’re trap! I got ten years o’catching up ta do, darnit! Ahhhh, all the motivation I had to read it is gone! Gonnne just like that—! Anyway the point is…protecting his master to the death is just wonderful. It’s just like Edgar!” “Hah!? All that amounts to is satisfying his own ego, you idiot!!” “This guy..” “This jerk…” “Really pisses me off…!!” “Ahh, you two there. Would you mind keeping it down a little?” “Leo!” “Josephine is in trouble right now. Nnn…I never would have thought Jackie would be the culprit. What a surprise. Besides, I’d say Elliot was at fault just now.” “Huuuh!? What did I do—” “You asked someone for his own opinion…but tried to force your opinions on him when you didn’t like what you heard.

Growing up, I saw first-hand the devastation untreated mental health issues could cause. This sparked a passion within me to make a difference. I understand what it feels like to be trapped in your own mind. The walls closing in, the feeling that no one truly sees you.

observing your own mind; notice the different ways in which you struggle. Do you judge your thoughts

I am living in many dimensions at once; the appearance of being trapped in time and space is an illusion: Today I will experience myself beyond limitations. I will set time aside to be present with myself in silence. As I breathe I will see my being spreading outward in all directions. As I settle into my own inner silence, any image that comes to mind will be asked to join my being. I will include anyone and anything that comes to mind, saying, “You and I are one at the level of being. Come, join me beyond the drama of space and time.” In the same way I will experience love as a light that begins in my heart and spreads out as far as my awareness can reach; as images arise in my mind, I will send love and light in their direction.

At the core of all utopian visions lies one of the main structural dysfunctions of the old consciousness: looking to the future for salvation. The only existence the future actually has is as a thought form in your mind, so when you look to the future for salvation, you are unconsciously looking to your own mind for salvation. You are trapped in form, and that is ego.

Here I stand, regretting our missed opportunity to walk. A year ago I would have happily run up in the hills, whether it rained or not. And I was thinking that I could go out, in spite of the weather, but I wouldn’t enjoy it like I used to.” She gestured in amicable agreement. “There’s no fault in misliking the feel of a water-soaked gown.” “That’s part of it,” I said, seizing on the image. “Last year I wore the same clothes year round. My only hat was a castoff that Julen found me somewhere. I loved the feel of rain against my face, and never minded being soaked. I never noticed it! Now I own carriage hats, and walking hats, and riding hats, and ball headdresses--and none of them except the riding hats can get wet, and even those get ruined in a good soak. My old hat never had any shape to begin with, or any color, so it was never ruined.” I turned to face the window again. “Sometimes I feel like I didn’t lose just my hat, I lost my self that horrible night when I walked into Bran’s trap.” Nee was silent. I ran my thumb around the gilt rim of the cup a couple of times, then I made myself face her. “You think I’m being foolish?” She put her palms together in Peaceful Discourse mode. “Yes I do,” she said, but her tone was not unkind. “One doesn’t lose a self, like a pair of gloves or a pin. We learn and change, or we harden into stone.” “Maybe I’ve changed too fast. Or haven’t changed enough,” I muttered. “Have you compromised yourself in any important way?” she asked. I opened my mouth to say Of course, when we were forced to give up our plans to defeat Galdran, but I knew it would be an untruth as soon as it left my lips. “I think,” I said slowly, “I lost my purpose that day. Life was so easy when all I lived for was the revolt, the accomplishment of which was to bring about all these wondrous miracles. Nothing turned out to be the way we so confidently expected it to. Nothing.” “So…” She paused to sip. “…if you hadn’t walked into that trap, what would be different?” “Besides the handsomeness of my foot?” I forced a grin as I kicked my slippered toes out from under my hem. No one could see my scarred foot, not with all the layers of fine clothing I now wore, but the scars were there. She smiled, but waited for me to answer her question. I said, “I suppose the outcome in the larger sense would have been the same. In the personal sense, though, I suspect I would have been spared a lot of humiliation.” “The humiliation of finding out that your political goals were skewed by misinformation?” “By ignorance. But that wasn’t nearly as humiliating as---” my encounters with a specific individual. But I just shook my head, and didn’t say it. “So you blame Vidanric,” she said neutrally. “Yes…no…I don’t know,” I said, trying not to sound cross. “I don’t.” I looked down, saw my hand fidgeting with the curtain and dropped it to my side.

It has been like being stuck in a room while I watched your life unfold on a television. All of this time I’ve been trapped in my own mind, screaming, but nobody could hear me.

We could talk about it.” “Talk about what?” “Why you look like someone shot your dog. Shelby, I assume.” “Nah,” Luke said, taking a drink. “That’s not serious.” “I guess that has nothing to do with your sleeplessness or your mood then. Trouble with the cabins? The town? Your tenant/helper?” “Aiden, there’s nothing bothering me, except maybe that I’ve been working my ass off for three months getting a house and six cabins rebuilt and furnished.” Aiden took a sip of his drink. “Twenty-five, so Sean and Mom say. And gorgeous.” “Sean’s an idiot who can’t mind his own business. She’s just a girl.” “She’s just a girl who has you looking a little uptight.” “Thanks,” he said, standing. “You don’t look that great yourself—I’m going to bed.” He threw back the rest of his drink. “Nah, don’t,” Aiden said. “Fix another one. Give me ten minutes, huh? I can just ask a couple of questions, right? I’m not like Sean, I’m not going to get up your ass about this. But you haven’t talked about it much and I’m a little curious.” Luke thought about that for a second and against his better judgment, he went into the kitchen and poured himself a short shot. He went back and sat down, leaning his elbows on his knees. “What?” he asked abruptly. Aiden chuckled. “Okay. Relax. Just a girl? Not serious?” “That’s right. A town girl, sort of. She’s visiting her family and she’ll be leaving pretty soon.” “Ah—I didn’t know that. I guess I thought she lived there.” “Long visit,” Luke said. “Her mother died last spring. She’s spending a few months with her uncle until she gets on with things—like where she wants to live. College and travel and stuff. This is temporary, that’s all.” “But—if you felt serious, there isn’t any reason you wouldn’t let it…you know…evolve…?” “I don’t feel serious,” he said, his mouth in a firm line. “Okay, I get that. Does she? Feel serious?” “She has plans. I didn’t trap her, Aiden. I made sure she knew—I’m not interested in being a family man. I told her she could do better, I’m just not built that way. But when I’m with a woman, I know how to treat her right. If she needed something permanent, she was in the wrong place. That’s how it is.” “Never?” “What do you mean, never? No one in this family is interested in that.” “Bullshit. I am. Sean says he’s having too much fun, but the truth is he has the attention span of a cabbage. But me? I’d like a wife, a family.” “Didn’t you already try that once?” Luke asked, sitting back in his chair, relaxing a little bit since the attention had shifted to Aiden’s life. “Oh, yeah—I tried hard. Next time I try, I’m going to see if I can find a woman who’s not certifiable and off her meds.” He grinned. “Really, that’s what happens when you ignore all the symptoms because she’s such a friggin’ miracle in bed, it causes brain damage.” He shrugged. “I’m on the lookout for that.” Luke grinned. “She was hot.” “Oh, yeah.” “She was worse than nuts.” “Nightmare nuts,” Aiden agreed.

Panic is like a wall, trapping you within the limited borders of your own mind.

MARCH 16 IT IS GOOD THAT YOU RECOGNIZE YOUR WEAKNESS. That keeps you looking to Me, your Strength. Abundant life is not necessarily health and wealth; it is living in continual dependence on Me. Instead of trying to fit this day into a preconceived mold, relax and be on the lookout for what I am doing. This mind-set will free you to enjoy Me and to find what I have planned for you to do. This is far better than trying to make things go according to your own plan. Don’t take yourself so seriously. Lighten up and laugh with Me. You have Me on your side, so what are you worried about? I can equip you to do absolutely anything, as long as it is My will. The more difficult your day, the more I yearn to help you. Anxiety wraps you up in yourself, trapping you in your own thoughts. When you look to Me and whisper My Name, you break free and receive My help. Focus on Me, and you will find Peace in My Presence. I have strength for all things in Christ Who empowers me [I am ready for anything and equal to anything through Him Who infuses inner strength into me; I am self-sufficient in Christ’s sufficiency]. —PHILIPPIANS 4:13 AMP A cheerful heart is good medicine, but a crushed spirit dries up the bones. —PROVERBS 17:22

When We Want God to Breathe New Life into Our Marriage Do not remember the former things, nor consider the things of old. Behold, I will do a new thing, now it shall spring forth; shall you not know it? I will even make a road in the wilderness and rivers in the desert. ISAIAH 43:18-19 WE ALL HAVE TIMES when we know we need new life in our marriage. We feel the strain, the tension, the sameness, or possibly even the subtle decay in it. When there is so much water under the bridge over what seems like a river of hurt, apathy, or preoccupation, we know we cannot survive the slowly and steadily rising flood without the Lord doing a new thing in both of us. The good news is that God says He will do that. He is the God of new beginnings, after all. But it won’t happen if we don’t make a choice to let go of the past. We have been made new if we have received Jesus. “If anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new” (2 Corinthians 5:17). But in a marriage, it is way too easy to hang on to the old disappointments, misunderstandings, disagreements, and abuses. It becomes a wilderness of hurtful memories we cling to because we don’t want to be hurt, disappointed, misunderstood, disregarded, fought with, or abused again. Hanging on to old patterns of thought and negative memories keeps them fresh in your mind. And you don’t let your husband forget them, either. You remain mired in them because you don’t feel the situation has been resolved—and it still hurts. Only God can give you and your husband a new beginning from all that has gone on in the past. Only He can make a road in the wilderness of miscommunication and misread intentions, and make a cleansing and restoring river to flow in the dry areas of your relationship. Everyone needs new life in their marriage at certain times. And only the God of renewal can accomplish that. My Prayer to God LORD, I ask that You would do a fresh work of Your Spirit in our marriage. Make all things new in each of us individually and also together. Dissolve the pain of the past where it is still rising up in us to stifle our communication and ultimately our hope and joy. Wherever we have felt trapped in a wilderness of our own making, carve a way out of it for us and show us the path to follow. If there are rigid and dry areas between us that don’t allow for new growth, give us a fresh flow of Your Spirit to bring new vitality into our relationship. Help us to stop rehearsing old hurtful conversations that have no place in any life committed to the God of new beginnings. Sweep away all the old rubble of selfishness, stubbornness, blindness, and the inability to see beyond the moment or a particular situation. Only You can take away our painful memories so that we don’t keep reliving the same problems, hurts, or injustices. Only You can resurrect love, excitement, and hope where they have died. Help us to forgive fully and allow each other to completely forget. Help us to focus on Your greatness in us, instead of each other’s faults. Holy Spirit, breathe new life into each of us and into our marriage today.

When He Must Find the Liberty God Has for Him The Lord is the Spirit; and where the Spirit of the Lord is, there is liberty. 2 CORINTHIANS 3:17 EVERYONE NEEDS to be free of something. We all need to be free of our past, free from our sins, and free from the bondage we have because of them. We need freedom from our own limitations and from the enemy of our soul. The list is long. If nothing else, we need to be free from the notion that we don’t need to be free of anything. That’s because the enemy of our soul is always seeking to entice us off the path God has for us and into some trap of temptation, sin, or disobedience he has planned for us. It is not hard for a wife to see what her husband needs to be set free of because it is usually very clear to her. The challenge is not constantly reminding him of it, but instead continually praying he will find the freedom God has for him. It is sometimes difficult for a man to see his own need for liberation. Too often he may accept things about himself as being “just the way I am.” If you see clearly something your husband needs to be free of and he doesn’t, ask the Lord to reveal it to him. Ask God to open up your husband’s heart to hear the truth—from the Lord, from you, or from someone else God puts in his life. Then ask God to help your husband seek the presence of the Holy Spirit—who is the Spirit of liberty—where all freedom is found. That may seem like an impossible prayer to have answered, but nothing is too hard for God. My Prayer to God LORD, I am grateful that You are the Spirit of liberty and in Your presence we find freedom from whatever keeps us from becoming all You made us to be. I pray my husband will find freedom from anything that keeps him from moving into all You have for him. Enable him to understand that in Your presence he can find freedom from anything that controls him other than You. Liberate him from whatever limits him and keeps him from living Your way and doing what You have called him to do. Deliver my husband from any wrong mind-sets, bad attitudes, negative thoughts, or unwise actions. Release him from all addictions, enticements, temptations, harmful habits, or pollution of the mind and soul. Liberate him from destructive memories of past events. Where something has taken hold of his mind or heart that is not of You, I pray You would open his eyes to see the truth about it and convict him of his need to reject it. Don’t let him pursue something that takes him away from Your will for his life. Give him a vision of the freedom You have for him. Enable him to see that liberty doesn’t mean freedom to do whatever he wants; it means freedom from anything that keeps him from doing what You want. Help him find the liberty that comes from being in Your presence. I know if You set him free, Lord, he will be completely free (John 8:36). In Jesus’ name I pray.

This is an opportunity to access your deepest wisdom and assimilate it so that it becomes a part of your daily living. Beware of any potential traps or ruses that you’re tempted to get involved in. Rather than staying stuck in this apparent impasse, open your mind to the infinite number of possibilities that are before you, and make a choice. Don’t limit yourself to the mundane world, but instead be willing to explore other dimensions and realities. It’s time to write creatively without limits of tradition or habit, allowing yourself to be inspired by Nature. BLACK WIDOW SPIDER It’s time for a fresh perspective on what you’re doing, perhaps even a perspective that’s contrary to your usual way of thinking and seeing things. Your intuitive powers are very strong now, so pay closer attention to the subtle sensations in your body rather than relying solely on what meets the eye. You’ve done the hard work; now be patient and wait expectantly for the rewards that will come. There’s soon to be a substantial shift in the direction of your life, with a beneficial and renewed sense of purpose. This is a good time to do a dietary cleanse and detoxification to clear out any toxicity or pollutants in your body. Be direct and straightforward in all of your dealings, rather than dancing around the issues. What you once thought of as threatening is really quite harmless, so there’s no need to fear. There’s a situation you’re involved in where it will work better for you to remain in the background. BROWN RECLUSE SPIDER This is an opportunity to eliminate as much toxicity in your life as possible, in your body and in your relationships. Honor your need for solitude. This is a time of great transformation for you. TARANTULA Trust your intuitive senses—what you feel in your body—more than what you see. This is a time to shed anything that has served its purpose for the growth of your consciousness but is now no longer needed. Your sensitivity is increasing, particularly to the vibrations you feel from your environment. Be especially gentle to yourself in the next few days, doing whatever you can to provide comfort and self-nurturing. In spite of your sturdiness and strength, this is a very sensitive and delicate time for you, so treat yourself accordingly. Although you tend to stay in the background and by yourself, be willing to come forward as necessary for your own social and emotional nourishment.

Steve Jobs when he was asked to address the graduating class at Stanford: Your time is limited, so don’t waste it living someone else’s life. Don’t be trapped by dogma—which is living with the results of other people’s thinking. Don’t let the noise of others’ opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. They somehow already know what you truly want to become. Everything else is secondary.

I looked at the people who were making me feel uncomfortable and realized how uncomfortable they were in their own skin. To make fun of or try to intimidate someone they didn’t even know based on race alone was a clear indication that something was very wrong with them, not me. But when you have no confidence it becomes easy to value other people’s opinions, and I was valuing everyone’s opinion without considering the minds that generated them. That sounds silly, but it’s an easy trap to fall into, especially when you are insecure on top of being the only. As soon as I made that connection, being upset with them was not worth my time. Because if I was gonna kick their ass in life, and I was, I had way too much shit to do. Each insult or dismissive gesture became more fuel for the engine revving inside me.

That means a complete break with all past evolution because human beings, as they currently exist with a few exceptions, are very much what the behaviorists say – we are very much like any other animal: easily conditioned, mechanically trapped in repeating reflex actions, and that includes not just our behavior but our consciousness too. We all have what Leary calls conditioned consciousness. That is, our minds have been conditioned that only some things are possible to us where as the human mind theoretically should be capable of doing anything that any other human being has ever done. But most people are very limited. With the true science of psychology, when it becomes a science, it should be possible for you to master anything that any other human being has mastered from higher mathematics, to writing symphonies, to karate, to judo, to water skiing, to being an engineer, to becoming a choreographer of ballet, to making contributions to physics equal to those of Einstein. And especially, you should be able to change any compulsive behavior that depresses you and has bothered you all your life and you don’t know how to get rid of it. All that should be possible. You should be able to reprogram your own nervous system in any way you want.

What can be worse than rough hair which is split at the ends?Split ends and breakage of hair come off as one of the most annoying and chronic hair issues ever faced; their occurrence always comes off regardless of hair types and orientation. Achieving healthy hair after split ends may end up being tiring and a long process. The required solution may range the right way of detangling to many advanced levels of clinical operations. Before things go out of hand, keep in mind the following in your consciousness to carry out the most anticipated scalp as well as hair care. GENTLE MOTIONS A hairbrush with a soft ergonomic shape is the ideal solution for damaged and rough hairs. The NuWay C Brush takes the required care of the delicate hair follicles and puts firm and controlled pressure on the scalp while gently and smoothly. It ensures the intactness of the hair strands which further prevents them from breakage. HEAT REDUCTION Heat is considered as one of the most harmful and destructive causes for damaged scalp and hair. A brush with a proper venting scheme can be stated as a good brush since it possesses the capacity of absorbing heat and distributing heat evenly, thus preventing your hair or scalp from burning. EVERYDAY DETANGLING Detangling is the best way to prevent split ends and breakage as it helps the hair strands from colliding and getting trapped with each other, which inevitably ruins the strength of the hair. HYDRATION Moisturisation and hydration might be some of the forgotten steps which are most of the time taken for granted. The scalp skin is more delicate than the skin on other body parts. Just like the facial skin requires hydration, the scalp demands it too! When your hair is fully moisturized it allows your scalp and hair to rejuvenate and prevent drying out which in turn helps to prevent hair breakage. Therefore, it doesn't matter what hair care products you use, but you need to take care of the scalp and provide moisturisation in all cases. NUWAY BEING THE PRO SPLIT ENDS AND BREAKAGE HANDLER Ever thought of a brush that could properly promote blood circulation? The C Brush from NuWay does it all, just for you. There are millions of underlying reasons for our superior acclamations. NuWay is one of the reliable hair product companies that believes in providing a one-stop solution for every hair issue of yours NuWay's Double C shape brush has all the amenities one can ever think of. Besides being the pro brush for detangling, it is a vent brush that absorbs heat. So what are you waiting for? Hurry up! Shop your own C brush and see your tresses shinning and healthy!

AGENCY: OWNING YOUR LIFE “Agency” is the technical term for the feeling of being in charge of your life: knowing where you stand, knowing that you have a say in what happens to you, knowing that you have some ability to shape your circumstances. The veterans who put their fists through drywall at the VA were trying to assert their agency—to make something happen. But they ended up feeling even more out of control, and many of these once-confident men were trapped in a cycle between frantic activity and immobility. Agency starts with what scientists call interoception, our awareness of our subtle sensory, body-based feelings: the greater that awareness, the greater our potential to control our lives. Knowing what we feel is the first step to knowing why we feel that way. If we are aware of the constant changes in our inner and outer environment, we can mobilize to manage them. But we can’t do this unless our watchtower, the MPFC, learns to observe what is going on inside us. This is why mindfulness practice, which strengthens the MPFC, is a cornerstone of recovery from trauma.12 After I saw the wonderful movie March

The psychiatrist, to his great credit, remained very calm in the face of her outburst and offered a second suggestion. “Sienna, if you prefer not to take pharmaceuticals, we can try a more holistic approach.” He paused. “It sounds as if you are trapped in a cycle of thinking about yourself and how you don’t belong in the world.” “That’s true,” Sienna replied. “I try to stop, but I can’t!” He smiled calmly. “Of course you can’t stop. It is physically impossible for the human mind to think of nothing. The soul craves emotion, and it will continue to seek fuel for that emotion—good or bad. Your problem is that you’re giving it the wrong fuel.” Sienna had never heard anyone talk about the mind in such mechanical terms, and she was instantly intrigued. “How do I give it a different fuel?” “You need to shift your intellectual focus,” he said. “Currently, you think mainly about yourself. You wonder why you don’t fit … and what is wrong with you.” “That’s true,” Sienna said again, “but I’m trying to solve the problem. I’m trying to fit in. I can’t solve the problem if I don’t think about it.” He chuckled. “I believe that thinking about the problem … is your problem.” The doctor suggested that she try to shift her focus away from herself and her own problems … turning her attention instead to the world around her … and its problems. That’s when everything changed. She began pouring all of her energy not into feeling sorry for herself … but into feeling sorry for other people. She began a philanthropic initiative, ladled soup at homeless shelters, and read books to the blind. Incredibly, none of the people Sienna helped even seemed to notice that she was different. They were just grateful that somebody cared. Sienna worked harder every week, barely able to sleep because of the realization that so many people needed her help.

It would be futile for me to “make up my mind” to be a painter if I have no talent in that direction. But the truth is, if the talent is lacking, the desire will be absent, too. Your genuine self does not want to do things that are utterly foreign to it; it wants to realize its own potential. Of course, people can come up with all kinds of crazy notions about what they think they want to do or be, but they are just that—notions, and not genuine impulses. When we use our willpower to achieve goals that do not spring out of us, but which we set for the sake of pleasing others or to fulfill a fantasy about who we are, we create a kind of monster, a mechanical man in which our living self is trapped. We have all seen people who are held together by sheer willpower; the effort is enormous, but the result is hardly worth it. They aren’t people we enjoy being with—or who enjoy being with themselves.

In my first book, The Emotion Code, I explained how your subconscious mind, your vastly intelligent inner self, knows all about the “emotional baggage” you are holding on to. The Emotion Code provides a way for you to find and remove your own trapped emotions, the emotional baggage that has been disrupting your life, creating physical, mental, and emotional symptoms.

BROADCASTING RESONANCE Anchored in nonlocal consciousness, your local life begins to change. As you resonate with the cycles of nature, as your heart’s coherence conditions the energy space around you, as you vibrate to the signal of love and joy in your consciousness, you attract people and conditions that match your states and traits. Without effort, as your magnificent new signal broadcasts out around you, resonating with the music of the universe, you’ll come into synchrony with people and events that bless and delight you. You’ll discover that you’re not alone. As you tune to the great symphony of life each day, you’ll find that you’re tuned to millions of other people who are likewise attuned. With no effort at all, you’ll discover wonderful new friends and companions wherever you travel. As the light shines from your eyes, it meets the light in the eyes of others. When you’re awake, you naturally enjoy others who are awake. 9.3. Coming into synchrony. LOVING THE SLEEPER Not everyone is awake, and that’s fine. Sometimes your friends and family members are tossing in their sleep, suffering unnecessarily. Their plight touches you. You feel their misery. You would love to see them wake up, and shed those beliefs, thoughts, and habits that drag them down. You can’t force them to do so, no matter how much you love them. Everyone makes their own choice. What you can do for people who are suffering is shine brightly yourself. If they’re ready, they’ll wake up. If they don’t, trust the universe. We each wake up when the time is right. Their time might come later; it’s not up to you. You can share this book and other resources with them. You can share your story as I have shared mine, and perhaps these examples will inspire them. If and when each of us wakes up is our choice. UNLOCKING YOUR POTENTIAL As you live in synchrony with the universe, enjoying the community of other Bliss Brainers, you find new possibilities opening up. You start to unlock potential that’s been trapped inside the suffering, selfing self. Increasingly, you’re not just in Bliss Brain during meditation. You’re in the Awakened Mind state with your eyes open, going about your day. All kinds of possibilities that were previously unavailable to you now become available.

What to Do Tonight Spend private time with your child, ideally without electronics. Take turns with each child if you have more than one, so that the ratio is one-on-one. It is remarkably healing for kids and will help you to enjoy them. It also makes them feel like they are your number one priority. If you’re highly anxious, do something about it. Treating anxiety is one of the best things you can do for yourself and your family. Consider participating in cognitive behavioral therapy: you can learn very effective strategies for identifying and “talking back to” the distorted and unproductive thoughts that contribute to high anxiety. Learn to meditate. Take a yoga class. Be very regular in your exercise routine. Spend time in nature. Get more sleep. Socialize more with friends if it helps you feel calm. Avoid making decisions for your child based on fear. If you find yourself thinking, “I’m afraid if I don’t do this now, then—” stop. Do what you feel is right now, not what you feel you have to because of what you’re afraid will happen if you don’t. If your child is struggling, schedule a short time every day for you to worry about his or her problems. Literally write it into your planner. This will let your brain know that it is safe not to worry all day long. Remember who’s responsible for what. It cannot be your responsibility to see that everything goes well for your children at all times. If you are very worried about your teenager and have talked through the issues together many times, write your child a short letter summarizing your concerns and offering any help the child might need. Then promise that you will not bring the issue up again for a month. When you break your promise (because you will) apologize and recommit to it. Get out a piece of paper and draw a vertical line in the middle. In the left-hand column, write statements such as the following: “It’s okay for Jeremy to have a learning disability,” “It’s okay that Sarah doesn’t have any friends right now,” “It’s okay for Ben to be depressed right now.” In the right-hand column, write down the automatic thoughts that come to your mind in response (likely rebuttal) to these statements. Then question these automatic thoughts. Ask questions such as, “Can I be absolutely sure that this thought is true?” “Who would I be if I didn’t believe this?” This kind of self-questioning exercise, developed by author and speaker Byron Katie and others, can serve as a useful tool for discovering the thoughts that trap you into negative judgments.18 Create a stress-reduction plan for yourself. Can you get more exercise? More sleep? What calms you down and how can you do more of it? Don’t make yourself available to your kids at the expense of your own well-being. Wall off some “me” time. Model self-acceptance and tell your kids what you’re doing.

No man’s land They call it no man’s land, Their nobody treads and nobody dares to stand, Because it belongs to nobody, Neither this side, nor that side, and there I saw somebody, Standing there, looking at it from every side, And it neither sulked nor made any attempt to hide, But it said something with clear thoughts and in a very clear sound, “This is where everything lies, but never nothing is found, Because it is the no man’s land, Created by man’s mind alone and not by the God’s hand, Here lie trapped, and exiled emotions many, memories endless, A region in a constant state of emotional lockdown ruled by sensations pitiless, Because the side that owns the half, wants the other half too, And the one that owns the other half, only believes one is always followed by two, And the pull from one side is resisted by a strong push from the other, But if you ask me about the no man’s land, just the land, one half is always missing the other, Because both sides receive the same sunshine the same moonlight, And ah in the summer, they witness the same and beautiful feelings of delight, Same flowers, same wind, same smiles , same everything, Except human feelings, the only opposing thing, And here I stand exiled in eternity of no man’s land, I am life, that has forsaken you all, the life that was created by God’s own hand, Your wars lead to miseries, to untimely deaths, and to the creation of no man’s land, Where one day you too shall just beside me, trapped in the eternity of forlorn stand, Then let us stare at one another and forever, Because in no man’s land, what gets in; leaves never!

No man’s land They call it no man’s land, There nobody treads and nobody dares to stand, Because it belongs to nobody, Neither this side, nor that side, and there I saw somebody, Standing there, looking at it from every side, And it neither sulked nor made any attempt to hide, But it said something with clear thoughts and in a very clear sound, “This is where everything lies, but never nothing is found, Because it is the no man’s land, Created by man’s mind alone and not by the God’s hand, Here lie trapped, and exiled emotions many, memories endless, A region in a constant state of emotional lockdown ruled by sensations pitiless, Because the side that owns the half, wants the other half too, And the one that owns the other half, only believes one is always followed by two, And the pull from one side is resisted by a strong push from the other, But if you ask me about the no man’s land, just the land, one half is always missing the other, Because both sides receive the same sunshine the same moonlight, And ah in the summer, they witness the same and beautiful feelings of delight, Same flowers, same wind, same smiles , same everything, Except human feelings, the only opposing thing, And here I stand exiled in eternity of no man’s land, I am life, that has forsaken you all, the life that was created by God’s own hand, Your wars lead to miseries, to untimely deaths, and to the creation of no man’s land, Where one day you too shall just beside me, trapped in the eternity of forlorn stand, Then let us stare at one another and forever, Because in no man’s land, what gets in; leaves never!

Panic is panic, Clara would have liked to explain: words are a finicky, miserly fiction, a trap that hides organic chaos behind a false dramaturgy of order. Perhaps that’s why she liked correcting her students’ texts, working with neat and normalized writing: because it was better to set your feet on the cement of verbal logic than lie naked in the ocean of your own mind.

The college admissions arms race mind-set goes something like this: “If I let my kid write this paper on his own, he might not do well and may even do poorly, and yes I hope he’ll learn from that and do better next time. But he’ll be competing with a classroom full of other children, many of whose parents will have heavily edited or written their kid’s papers. My kid might learn but their kid will get the better grade and be put into the honors program where they’ll be exposed to greater things. Their kid will get into the college I want for my kid.

In Your Thoughts Irma! I was lost in your thoughts Irma, your hopes and in your imagination, When the breeze whispered “follow me and feel the new celebration!” And I replied, “no matter where I may tarry I am never away from her sensation, That has dissolved in my every emotion!” I seek you in every corner of light, In the morning hope, in the flowers., in the stars and in the moonlight, Then I look into the mirror and investigate my own sight, To find you in my own eyes and what a delight! I often remember our moments of togetherness from the past, The kiss that is still fresh and warm, but was the last, Always together even in the shadows that we cast, Everything feels like yesterday, but in every today, yesterday is always the past! My heart loves being a prisoner of your thoughts and your imaginings, And my mind seems to have got used to my heart’s longings, Leaving me marooned in love’s beautiful trappings, Where your smiling face is a part of all my mental surroundings! You are like the moon of my night, Where you shine on the shore of my life with love’s light, And I let you be my fate, my destiny and my joy’s every scalable height, So it is you and only you I dream of every night. Sometimes you are a palpable dream passing through my closed eyes, Often you are a beautiful embrace the warmth of which never dies, Until I wake up and seek you with my open eyes, It shall be the same every day and night until we meet again under these open skies! For now let me seek you within me and outside my own existence, I miss you deeply because I love you without any pretence, And I wish sometimes if I could bear wings like Gabriel to overcome every distance, But I am sure, I will either find you or bear wings to be kissed by your magnificence. Someday we both shall be reduced to nothing, just an impalpable feeling, But even then my soul shall find your thoughts healing, And when all shall before the God be kneeling, I shall be the only one still seeking myself in your omnipresent feeling!