Monday, April 30, 2007
Thursday, April 26, 2007
by Oriahe Mountain Dreamer
It doesn't interest me what you do for a living. I want to know what you ache for and if you dare to dream of meeting your heart's longing.
It doesn't interest me how old you are. I want to know if you will risk looking like a fool for love, for your dream, for the adventure of being alive.
It doesn't interest me what planets are squaring the moon. I want to know if you have touched the center of your sorrow, have been opened by life's betrayals or have become shriveled and closed for fear of further pain.
I want to know if you can sit with pain, mine or your own, without moving to hide it or fade it or fix it. I want to know if you can be with joy, mine or your own, if you can dance with wildness and let the ecstasy fill you to the tips of your fingers and toes without cautioning us to be careful, to be realistic, or to remember the limitations of being human.
It doesn't interest me if the story you are telling me is true. I want to know if you can disappoint another to be true to yourself, if you can bear accusation of betrayal and not betray your own soul.
I want to know if you can be faithful and therefore be trustworthy.
I want to know if you can see beauty even when it is not pretty everyday, and if you can source your life from it's presence.
I want to know if you can live with failure, yours and mine, and still stand on the edge of a lake and shout to the silver of the full moon...YES!
It doesn't interest me to know where you live or how much money you have. I want to know if you can get up after a night of grief and despair, weary and bruised to the bone and do what needs to be done for the children.
It doesn't interest me who you are or how you came to be here. I want to know if you can stand in the center of the fire with me and not shrink back.
It doesn't interest me what or where or with whom you have studied. I want to know what sustains you from the inside when all else falls away.
I want to know if you can be alone with yourself and if you truly like the company you keep in empty moments.
Monday, April 23, 2007
" I see the green of the trees, red roses too,
I see them growing for the humanity.
I think to myself... what a wonderfull world.
I see the blue skies and the white clouds.
The brightness of the blessed day, the sacred dark night.
I think to myself...what a wonderfull world "
from the book "the thinker's saga", augusto cury
Saturday, April 21, 2007
Text talk is a skill and an art, not unlike speaking, yet in important ways different than speaking. Proficiency in one does not guarantee success in the other. Some truly great authors and poets sounded bumbling or shallow during in-person conversation. A person's ability to communicate effectively in text talk obviously depends highly on writing abilities. People who hate to write, or are poor typists probably will not be drawn to text-based therapy. Self-selection is at work. Others report that they prefer writing as a way to express themselves. They take delight in words, sentence structure, and the creative opportunity to subtly craft exactly how they wish to articulate their thoughts and moods. In asynchronous communication - such as e-mail, message boards - they may enjoy the zone for reflection where they can ponder on how to express themselves. In those cases, asynchronous text may be a less spontaneous form of communicating than speech and online synchronous communication, such as chat. Unlike verbal conversation - where words issue forth and immediately evaporate - writing also places one's thoughts in a more visible, permanent, concrete, objective format. An e-mail message is a tiny packet of self-representation that is launched off into cyberspace. Some people experience it as a piece of themselves, a creative work, a gift sent to their online companion. They hope or expect it to be treated with understanding and respect. Clinicians might look for how these skills and preferences for writing versus speaking might be associated with important differences in personality and cognitive style.
The quality of the text relationship rests on these writing skills. The better people can express themselves through writing, the more the relationship can develop and deepen. Poor writing can result in misunderstandings and possibly conflicts. In the absence of an accurate perception of what the other is trying to say, people tend to project their own expectations, anxieties, and fantasies onto the other. A disparity in writing ability between people can be problematic. The equivalent in face-to-face encounters would be one person who is very eloquent and forthcoming, talking to another who speaks awkwardly and minimally. The loquacious one eventually may resent putting so much effort into the relationship and taking all the risks of self-disclosure. The quiet one may feel controlled, ignored, and misunderstood. As in face-to-face clinical work, therapists might modify their writing techniques - even basic elements of grammar and composition - in order to interact more effectively and empathically with the client.
We might tend to think of writing abilities as a fixed skill - a tool for expressing oneself that is either sophisticated, unsophisticated, or something in between. It's also possible that the quality of one's writing interacts with the quality of the relationship with the other. As a text relationship deepens - and trust develops - people may open up to more expressive writing. They become more willing to experiment, take risks - not just in what specific thoughts or emotions they express, but also in the words and composition used. Composition can advance when people feel safe to explore; it regresses when they feel threatened, hurt, or angry. Those changes reflect the developmental changes in the relationship. Writing isn't just a tool for developing the text relationship. Writing affects the relationship and the relationship affects the quality of the writing.
This same reciprocal influence exists between the text relationship and writing style. Concrete, emotional and abstract expression, complexity of vocabulary and sentence structure, the organization and flow of thought - all reflect one's cognitive/personality style and influence how the other reacts to you. People who are compulsive may strive for well organized and logically constructed, intellectualized messages with sparse emotion and few, if any, spelling or grammatical errors. Those with a histrionic flair may offer a more dramatic presentation, where neatness plays a back seat to the expressive use of spacing, caps, unique keyboard characters, and colorful language. Narcissistic people may write extremely long, rambling blocks of paragraphs. People with schizoid tendencies may be pithy, while those who are more impulsive may dash off a disorganized, spelling-challenged message with emotional phrases highlighted in shouted caps. Different writing/personality styles may be compatible, incompatible, or complementary to other styles.
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Saturday, April 14, 2007
It means I can't do it for someone else.
To let go is not to cut myself off...
It's the realization that I can't control another...
To let go is not to enable,
but to allow learning from natural consequences.
To let go is to admit powerlessness,
which means the outcome is not in my hands.
To let go is not to try and change or blame another,
I can only change myself.
To let go is not to care for, but to care about.
To let go is not to fix, but to be supportive.
To let go is not to judge,
but to allow another to be a human being.
To let go is not to be in the middle arranging all the outcomes,
but to allow others to affect their own outcomes.
To let go is not to be protective,
It is to permit another to face reality.
To let go is not to deny, but to accept.
To let go is not to nag, scold, or argue,
but to search out my own shortcomings and correct them.
To let go is not to adjust everything to my desires,
but to take each day as it comes and cherish the moment.
To let go is not to criticize and regulate anyone,
but to try to become what I dream I can be.
To let go is not to regret the past,
but to grow and live for the future.
To let go is to fear less and love more.
Wednesday, April 11, 2007
HOW TO STAY YOUNG
1. Throw out nonessential numbers.
This includes age, weight, and height.
Let the doctors worry about them. That is why you pay them.
2. Keep only cheerful friends.
The grouches pull you down.
(Keep this in mind if you are one of those grouches!)
3. Keep learning:
Learn more about the computer, crafts, gardening, whatever.
Never let the brain get idle.
"An idle mind is the devil's workshop."
And the devil's name is Alzheimers!
4. Enjoy the simple things
5. Laugh often, long and loud. Laugh until you gasp for breath.
And if you have a friend who mak es you laugh, spend lots and lots of time with him or her!
6. The tears happen:
Endure, grieve, and move on.
The only person who is with us our entire life, is ourself.
LIVE while you are alive.
7. Surround yourself with what you love:
Whether it's family, pets, keepsakes, music, plants, hobbies, whatever.
Your home is your refuge.
8. Cherish your health:
If it is good, preserve it.
If it is unstable, improve it.
If it is beyond what you can improve, get help.
9. Don't take guilt trips.
Take a trip to the mall, even to a foreign country, but NOT to where the guilt is
10. Tell the people you love that you love them, at every opportunity.
And if you don't send this to at least four people - who cares?
But do share this with someone.
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
|Everyone always tells their friends they'll be "Friends Forever," but How Often does that last?|
You might be best friends one year, pretty good friends then next, don't talk often the next year, and don't want to talk the year after that!
|So, I just wanted to say, even if I never talk to you again in my life, you are special to me and you have made a difference in my life, I look up to you, respect you, and truly cherish you. |
|Let old friends know you haven't forgotten them, and tell new friends you never will.|
Remember, everyone needs a friend.
Someday you might feel like you have no friends at all, but just remember this and take comfort in knowing somebody out there cares about you and always will.
Friday, April 06, 2007
The first thing that Jéssica felt was fear. Then Nick pressed the lips against her neck and he made her to shake and to forget of everything, except that she wanted to be with him.
It extended the hands to unbutton her the shirt, but he hold her the hands.
- Not yet! - she cried out.
He smiled when seeing her frustration.
- Because first I want to play you. I want a long alone time to pass to play you. I want to feel how you shake and I want to hear to sigh you.
That hot promise did with that she wanted him still more.
But she also wanted to play him. she wanted to travel him s and the mouth, to feel his skin and to savor himt. And, then, to keep that experience forever.
She finished the champagne and it put the glass on top of the table.
- That are to the wait?
He smiled and it put his/her drink beside her.
- I also want to see you. I want to see as your eyes are darkened with the passion and as your heart it accelerates. - she lifted him the chin with a finger and she smiled.
- There are a lot of things that I want to see and to do with you, Jéssica.
he traveled the neck with finger and he went for the outline of their breasts. She supported the breathing when he continued the course for the waist.
He began to unbutton her the blouse, slowly, button to button. When it ended, it didn't remove her immediately, it just moved away her a little, enough to press the lips against the silk that covered/her the chest.
She felt as they became hard the nipples.
- Nick...- it was a sussuro, a supplication.
He sucked with force and her nailed her only fingers in the shoulders when feeling that the knees shook her.
- And did you want this part to jump?
- Me no... I she didn't know... ah... anything of this part.
Finally, he came undone of the blouse and of the skirt, and it took her to the lap for the bed.
She waited, impatiently, that him if it undressed, wanting, to feel himt close to itself. But he lied down to her side completely dress.
- There is still more - he told her. - Much more.
then, he kissed her.
He removed her bra , when it put the mouth on her chest, she screamed of pleasure. He slid the hand among their legs and she began to do her to fly.
She was to contort breathless and he undressed quickly. naked ,he among the legs and it moved away them.
- looks at me Jéssica!
She opened the eyes and it tried to focus him
- Nick. - opened the legs and he lifted the hips, felt her in the acme when feeling his nude skin against yours, when feeling it inside of itself.
Then, he began to move and she felt that the fire grew, until that everything emerged in a kaleidoscope of brilliant colors.
Nick woke up the following morning, to feel the happiest man of the world, until that was in search of Jéssica and she didn't find her.
In the cushion there was a ticket:
" I didn't want to enter home at the hour of the small lunch. Thank you at night yesterday"
Wednesday, April 04, 2007
Sunday, April 01, 2007
If I speak in the tongues of men and angels,
but have not love,
I have become sounding brass or a tinkling symbol.
And if I have prophecy and know all mysteries and all knowledge,
and if I have all faith so as to remove mountains,
but have not love, I am nothing.
And if I dole out all my goods, and
if I deliver my body that I may boast
but have not love, nothing I am profited.
Love is long suffering,
love is kind,
it is not jealous,
love does not boast,
it is not inflated.
It is not discourteous,
it is not selfish,
it is not irritable,
it does not enumerate the evil.
It does not rejoice over the wrong, but rejoices in the truth
It covers all things,
it has faith for all things,
it hopes in all things,
it endures in all things.
Love never falls in ruins;
but whether prophecies, they will be abolished; or
tongues, they will cease; or
knowledge, it will be superseded.
For we know in part and we prophecy in part.
But when the perfect comes, the imperfect will be superseded.
When I was an infant,
I spoke as an infant,
I reckoned as an infant;
when I became [an adult],
I abolished the things of the infant.
For now we see through a mirror in an enigma, but then face to face.
Now I know in part, but then I shall know as also I was fully known.
But now remains
faith, hope, love,
but the greatest of these is love.