valuing creativity

what the rising signs value in life

Your rising sign is how you see the world and how you interact with and experience it.

Aries Rising: You prefer to always be busy and active, liking to be on your feet and doing things. You face life with enthusiasm and good energy. You value independence and like to keep motivated and to motivate others.

Taurus Rising: You like to take your time and be patient. You are very stable and like to have things stay the same. You face life with patience and responsibility. You value security and loyalty.

Gemini Rising: Naturally curious and inquisitive. Always wanting things to be new and fresh, changes of scenery can be really good for you. You face life with optimism and cleverness. They value intellect and flexibility.

Cancer Rising: You are very sensitive and in tune with your emotions and surroundings. You face life with sweetness and imagination. You value kindness and caring for others.

Leo Rising: Magnetic and charismatic. You are very self aware and aware of your surroundings and others. You face life with courage and pride. You value creativity and speaking your mind.

Virgo Rising: You can be quite shy or introverted, but you are also very soothing to be around. You are very adaptable and will go out of their way to help people, especially friends. You face life with hard work and modesty. You value dependability and practicality.

Libra Rising: Extremely friendly and easy going, being polite is very important to you. You face life with grace and compromise. You value your appearance (not just in your looks, but in how you appear to others) and being considerate.

Scorpio Rising: Strong and ambitious, you have an unmistakable aura. You like to have power over yourself or your situation. You face life with control and passion. You value dedication and observation.

Sagittarius Rising: You can be restless throughout life, wanting to see the world or to have new surroundings. You face life with curiosity and philosophy. You value happiness and keeping things lighthearted.

Capricorn Rising: You are reliable and hard working, and take things quite seriously. You face life with success and reservation. You value wise advice and being rational.

Aquarius Rising: You like to be individual and stand out, even in the littlest of ways. You face life with new ideas and revolution. You value education and acceptance.

Pisces Rising: You like to go with the flow, seeing where life takes you. You face life with softness and compassion. You value creativity and positive energy.

paradoxicallyhappy  asked:

You said that Slytherin and Ravenclaw are alike. Can you please tell me how are they alike?

Slytherins and Ravenclaws are alike in the sense that they both:

  • love knowledge, Ravenclaw’s for knowledge, Slytherins for both knowledge and power,
  • like witty comments and banter,
  • in general they both like learning,
  • they value smarts, knowledge, creativity and resourcefulness
  • massive nerds,
  • both house tends to have a few oddballs in their midst,
  • neither can handle incompetence or idiocy,
  • generally speaking, both houses see failure as a learning curve, rather than the end of the line,
  • both houses like getting good marks.
You are just as responsible for your fandom activism as creators are for their fanworks.

More so, in fact, because your primary purpose is telling people what to do or not do. Any instructive value in creative work is understood to be subordinate to entertainment and self-expression, but if you’re out there explicitly advocating for something, you’d damn well be ready to own it. Including all its implications and potential negative effects.

That means: If you’re urging people not to create some kind of fanwork because you think that’ll protect a vulnerable group, you’d better be ready to account for the members of that group who make it, enjoy it, and find solace in it.

That means: If you’re urging retaliation against creators, you are absofuckinglutely responsible for the harm that befalls them as a result, including harm to members of the group you’re trying to protect.

That means: If you’re holding everyone else to high standards about how they could affect someone with a trigger-able mental illness, you need to hold yourself to the same standards, including effects on people whose anxiety manifests as over-scrupulosity or intrusive thoughts.

That means: If you’re shaming erotica you find “gross,” you don’t get to blow off conversations about how that shame plays into conservative sexual-purity enforcement. You don’t get to wash your hands of the implications, whether or not that’s what you meant. Explicit activism has far more duty to consider indirect implications than anyone’s personal pursuit of sexual fulfillment does.

That means: If your activism has garnered you a huge follower count, you are responsible for the exposure you inflict on the people you pick fights with, and the dogpiles or hate mobs you incite. This can be a tough thing to learn if you get popular overnight, and even well-meaning people fumble with it at first, but it’s something you have to figure out. And don’t fucking give me that “it was just a block list, I didn’t mean for anyone to go into their askboxes on anon and tell them all to kill themselves” crap, the only people fooled by it are the ones looking for an excuse to be fooled.

That means: You are responsible for assessing the relative power and influence of the people you’re addressing, and not griefing marginalized subcultural small fry over artistic sins that are far more egregious among canon creators. Especially canon creators who are just as accessible on Twitter as fanwork creators are on Tumblr.

(Pre-emptive response to objections to the preceding paragraph: Only going after people you know you have social power over isn’t activism, it’s bullying with a thin veneer of activist lingo smeared over it. Only trying to clean up your immediate surroundings isn’t activism, it’s complaining to the local homeowners’ association–valid enough if someone’s running their chainsaw at 2am, but if you just can’t stand Betty’s problematic lawn flamingoes, dressing it up as concern for what tacky decorations say about the neighborhood is a little precious.)

If any of that is too burdensome for you, I suggest you take the advice fandom activists tend to have for fanartists and authors: if you can’t do it without doing damage and you’re not prepared to deal with the consequences, abstain. Restrict your activism to shit that’s not going to hurt people, even if that’s just being the best role model you can be.

You want to set yourself up as a moral authority? You want to dictate what people can and can’t create without activist blowback? That’s power–and yes, local power in a community can exist irrespective of society-wide systemic advantage. With power comes responsibility. Use it wisely or not, as you choose, but don’t act like you get to hold anyone accountable for their art’s indirect potential to harm if you don’t want to be accountable for your direct advocacy.

Your mother & I
dance under a cloudy sky
in an ambience dim;
raindrops hang off my hat’s brim
fall they do when her I dip
tears they become upon her quivering lip;
like dew dusking a tulip
here we embrace; in a blip –
gone the days, the memories
into a haze disappear the reveries
the anniversaries.
And so the music no one hears
tapers off as time to depart nears
I kiss her hand and she looks away
her sights set on another bay;
Gliding over the waters’ spray
she leaves dappled with dismay
I watch her go, feet firm on the shore
…it begins to pour.

anonymous asked:

Why are you so in love with science? (not meant in a bad way, I'm just curious)

I guess it’s because science just sort of makes sense to me, on a fundamental level.

The processes of science and scientific analysis are very in line with how I see the world and how I think. I’ve always been a very sort of analytic thinker. Like I was the kid who always had to know why and was always questioning everything and always tries to explain everything (to the point that I was, at time, a very obnoxious child). 

I like facts. I like seeing how things fit together. I like sorting through things and finding the bigger picture and then seeing how the individual details slot into it. 

It’s how I make sense of the world I guess. Trying to find an explanation for things I don’t understand. It’s why I was never good at being religious but am fascinated by the history of religion and how it creates and is created by society. 

And it goes beyond the purely natural and physical sciences. I feel similarly about the social sciences and history and anything that relies on critical analysis. 

On a fundamental level I want to know why. And science, at it’s core, is an attempt to answer that question. 

I honestly feel like I would’ve enjoyed Dirk Gently a lot less if they’d taken the Grimdark™ option and done a dark and gritty reboot.

Because it would’ve actually been a really easy option for them? They could’ve taken Farah’s first scene (an attractive woman tied to a bed in a dark room with a creepy man standing over her) and really emphasized the rape-y aspects of it for the shock value. They could’ve taken Amanda catching fire and meticulously shown her skin crackling and blistering. They could’ve taken Bart (as a chaotic feral character) and shown her in a revealing, conveniently-ripped outfit to highlight how she just doesn’t care about her appearance (but is still magically attractive by Hollywood standards).

Dirk could’ve brooded heavily over his dark and tragic past, and only cared about solving the mystery rather than saving Lydia. Todd could’ve made everything about his Manpain™ and the narrative could’ve presented Amanda as unreasonable for not immediately forgiving him. Rimmer showing affection to his dog-in-a-young-girl’s-body could’ve been genuinely disturbing (as opposed to just vaguely unsettling).

… and I only just realized how many of these relate to their treatment of female characters, which says a lot about how they’re actually valued by the creative team.

But man, I was this close to turning the television off (my hand was literally on the remote) during Farah’s first scene because I’m e x h a u s t e d by the number of Strong Female Characters™ who have some sort of sexual assault in their past because male writers can’t imagine any other reason for women to be capable and self-assured? And I’m glad I didn’t turn episode one off (because my life would be a sad and dreary place without the show and without the fandom) but still, it was a close call.

There’s a lot of wickedly brilliant black comedy in season one and I’m 100% here for all of the CIA-related angst they want to throw at us, but there’s also no limit to how much darker they could’ve made the show and I’m sincerely grateful that we’ve instead been given the psychic sunshine bean and his cantankerous punk boyfriend in a universe that has sombre moments but still makes the audience feel better for having been part of the story.

Ilvermorny Sortings

I have been thinking about these houses all day and I like @theconsultingdramaqueen and her theory, so I am going to expand it a bit.

A SLYTHERIN VALUES AMBITION BUT DEFINES THEMSELF BY
Wampus - What they have done and will do. What am I doing to achieve my ambitions?
Thunderbird - Who has inspired them and the dreams of others that have woven themselves into their ambitions.
Pukwudgie - How passionate they are about their ambitions. How intensely do I believe in my dream?
Horned Serpent - Their beliefs and their ideologies surrounding their ambition. Their knowledge gets them to their goal.

A HUFFLEPUFF VALUES LOYALTY AND HARD WORK BUT DEFINES THEMSELF BY
Wampus - How they show their loyalty. What are they working hard towards?
Thunderbird - The inspiration from their peers. How have other people inspired them?
Pukwudgie - The intensity of their loyalty and the passion behind their hard work. Why do you work hard?
Horned Serpent - Their beliefs and ideas behind their loyalty and hard work. Your mind drives your actions.

A RAVENCLAW VALUES CREATIVITY AND INTELLIGENCE BUT DEFINES THEMSELF BY
Wampus - What they have created and what they do with their intelligence.
Thunderbird - The creativity of others and how it has inspired you to be more creative.
Pukwudgie - The passion behind your creativity and how you feel about learning new things.
Horned Serpent - Their beliefs and their ideologies that manifest into more knowledge and learning

A GRYFFINDOR VALUES BRAVERY BUT DEFINES THEMSELF BY
Wampus - Their brave actions and what they have done to be brave and chivalrous.
Thunderbird - The inspiration acquired from their brave peers and the lessons they have learned from others about bravery
Pukwudgie - Their feelings and emotions behind the bravery, why they commit to bravery.
Horned Serpent - Their beliefs and how their mind shapes their actions of bravery.


People are trying to correlate the Hogwarts houses with the Ilvermorny houses but I think their is no correlation. They have their similarities but are ultimately different. Please comment your opinion :)

Hogwarts Houses

When you think of Hufflepuff, think of dimpled smiles and curly hair. Think of diverse individuals. Hufflepuffs are more than loyal and cutesy. They’re fierce lovers, passionate, and sensitive. They’re not yellow flowers and sunshine. There are Hufflepuffs that are sad, depressed, angry, grieving, and lonely. Hufflepuffs are loud music, screaming the lyrics and long car rides where you don’t have to say anything, yet you can feel all the conversations between you and the passenger. Hufflepuffs are good at being independent, but can also be lovely company. Hufflepuffs remind me of smirks that change into laughter that rings  in the air, making its way in ripples to the listener’s ear. Hufflepuff is gentle by nature, but not afraid to be vicious and unstoppable when someone they love is in danger. Hufflepuffs are more that ditsy throw aways, they’re accepting, lovable and tough.

When you think of Ravenclaw, think of beautiful braided hair and glasses sliding down the bridge of a nose and painted nails. Ravenclaws are more than lonely, quiet, brains. Their intelligence is a gateway for them to be innovative. They have pride in their minds, but they also see value in athleticism, creativity, and whatever will make them happy. They analyze situations and are ridiculously empathetic. They’re unwavering diligence is what takes them places and makes them lifelong companions. Ravenclaws are blueberry tea, but not in a quiet, dimly lit room, they’re a cup of blistering tea being served to a community of people, uniting and provocative. They’re the smiles that shine on people’s faces when their favorite show comes on, and the ideology to never give up. Ravenclaws are the unity of the sun and the moon, and they’re not cowardly. They’re not people with their nose in the book, they’re better than that, they’re the curious people running their hand over the pages, feeling the text in the ridges of their finger. Ravenclaws are warm sweaters and a feeling of serenity.

When you think of Gryffindors, think of a confident smile, and energy that radiates to everyone in the room. Gryffindors are more than brave and brash. They’re immensely caring beings, with a soft spot for kittens and puppies. They’re charitable, and understanding. They are people walking around, eyes glazing over patrons, making sure there’s nobody in trouble. They’re the people waking up in the middle of the night and tiptoeing to see if their parents or siblings are okay. They’re the tiny creak in the wood floor and the fuzzy socks over cold feet. They’re not loud mouths, rather they’re the reason for the laugh. Their words echo, because they’re unexpected and appreciated. Gryffindors are a breath of fresh air on a foggy day. Don’t doubt their rationale, because they’re always thinking a step ahead. Not every Gryffindor is brave all the time. They break down and have weak moments, but their true characteristic is their ability to bounce back efficiently and not let the past stop them.

When you think of Slytherin think of furrowed eyebrows and bright eyes. Think of delicate hands and smirks. Slytherins are more than coy and cocky people. They aren’t all clever and plotting. Sometimes they’re just creative and think in a  different way. Slytherins are the pockets of friends that will never drift apart, because they get each other. They’re the misunderstood, the daring, the controversial, and the fantastic. There’s not an inevitable evil to them, but an inevitable spring in their step, and quiet intelligence that guides them. Slytherins are the people in the front of the class visualizing the material and going home and practicing in their own way. They’re invested in their own growth, but when they find someone to love they grow for them. They’re not selfish, but timid, and wary. Not all are judgemental and harsh, some are just vulnerable and want to make everyone happy, and realize that sometimes the only way to do that is to be reserved. Slytherins aren’t bullies. Slytherins aren’t out to get you. They’re willing to teach to help others grow, but they won’t be taken advantage of. Slytherins are like black skinny jeans and a need to improve their self.

CAN YOU THROW SOME LIGHT ON THE FEELING OF NOSTALGIA?

The whole of humanity suffers from nostalgia. Yes, I call it a suffering - it is a disease. It happens only because we are not able to live in the present totally, passionately, intensely. Then the mind starts making substitutes for the present, and then there are two possibilities: either you move towards the past or you move towards the future. Neither the past exists nor the future: the past is no more, the future not yet. All that exists is this moment, only this moment. Now is the only real time and here the only real space.

But whenever you become obsessed with the past or the future it simply shows one thing: an escape from the present, an escape from the existential And why should one want to escape from the existential? Why should one want to escape into memories or into fantasies? There can be only one reason: you don’t know how to live now, you don’t know the art of getting in tune with reality.

Because your present is so empty, so meaningless, you have to compensate for it with something.

The easier way is to compensate for it with the past because the past once existed; it has left its footprints in the sands of your memory, so it is easier to fall back. The past seems more substantial than the future, hence ninety-nine percent of people fall towards the past. Only one percent - the poets, the visionaries, the artists - look towards the future, they compensate for their present with the future. But basically both are doing the same; more or less everybody is doing it in his own way.

Nostalgia means non-meditativeness, unawareness, unconsciousness, and it is an utterly futile exercise, an absolutely futile exercise. You cannot be nourished by the past, there is no way to live it again, but you can live in memories. Living in memories is an empty gesture.

So the first thing, Ronald, is to remember that it is not only you who is suffering from nostalgia, everybody is although there may be relative differences.

And the people who live in the future are also projecting their past, because where else can they get the material to make future dreams? They will get it from the memories. They will modify their past, decorate their past, make new combinations of the past and create a future - a future heaven. And this is true about individuals and about societies too.

The old societies, for example, India, live in the past. India’s golden age has passed. In the future there is only darkness and nothing else; the future holds no hope. So India falls back towards the past.

It happens to every individual in his old age - it is an indication of old age - because the old man cannot look ahead, there is nothing there but death. If he looks into the future he can hear the footsteps of death coming closer and closer and closer. It is frightening. He closes that door completely, he looks back. It is more beautiful - all those memories of youth and childhood…

The child lives in the future because he has no past. He is always hoping to grow up as soon as possible, as quickly as possible. The same is true about young societies, for example, America: its whole history is only three hundred years old. India has existed for at least ten thousand years; more is possible but not less. Ten thousand years certainly create a deep hankering for the past - the society is so old, so collapsing.

But America can hope for the future - it is so young; it has no past. If the American tries to go to the past, where can he go? Abraham Lincoln, Washington… and then comes the end. There is not much in it - three hundred years is nothing. India can go on and on as far back as one can conceive.

So it is true about individuals, it is true about societies, races, collectivities - that if you are very young you look towards the future, if you are getting old you start looking towards the past.

So one thing, Ronald: you must be getting old, if not physically then psychologically. But deep down you know that the peak of life has passed and the future looks dark and dismal. But I don’t differentiate much between future and the past because both are escapes.

The king had very small reproductive machinery. One day, while bathing with other nobles, a friend remarked, “My dear King, you have a really small thing there!”

And the king replied, “Yes. If it was another inch smaller I"d be a queen!”

Relatively speaking… This is the whole theory of Albert Einstein, The Theory of Relativity.

So, Ronald, you may be too obsessed by nostalgia and others may be a little less obsessed, or more, but it is only a question of quantity.

Only an enlightened person has no nostalgia because he need not escape from the present. The awakened person lives herenow, he knows no other life.

The first thing about nostalgia: it can be understood only if you understand the nature of the mind.

The mind functions like the pendulum of an old dock: it moves from one extreme to another, it never stays in the middle. If the pendulum stays in the middle, the dock stops. That’s exactly true about the mind: if it remains in the middle, the mind stops, and that is the beginning of meditation. To be in the present is the beginning of an immense journey into eternity.

Eternity is vertical, time is horizontal. In time you move from A to B, from B to C, from C to D; it is linear, a line, a horizontal line. The moment you stop in the middle, you don’t move from A to B, your whole dimension changes - it becomes vertical. You dive deep into A: from Al to A2, from A2 to A3, from A3 to A4, and you go on diving deeper and deeper into A - not to B, not to C. The horizontal is no longer there; it is vertical. And the heights of life and the depths of life belong to the vertical dimension. The horizontal means the shallow, the superficial.

The mind is equivalent to time, hence it is not only a metaphor when I use the clock and the pendulum as symbols for the mind, it is literally true. The moment you are out of the mind - that is, you are moving in the vertical dimension - you are also out of time.

A Sufi saying attributed to Jesus is that when a disciple asked Jesus, “What will be very special in your kingdom of God?” he said, “There shall be time no longer.” The disciple may not have ever thought that this was going to be the answer: “There shall be time no longer.” It is not reported in the New Testament - the New Testament has missed many important things about Jesus - but other secret traditions have carried those messages. “There shall be time no longer.” He defines his kingdom of God by that statement - that will be the most special thing about it - no time, timelessness.

The mind is time; the moment there is no mind there is no time. And when there is no time there is no past, no future. Remember, time consists only of past and future: nostalgia for the past and dreams of the future. The present is not part of the time at all.

So when you hold the pendulum of the clock in the middle, the clock stops; when you hold your attention, your awareness, exactly in the middle, in the present, mind disappears, time disappears.

If you don’t know the art of meditation then the pendulum goes on moving from one extreme to another: from the past to the future, from the future back to the past. That’s how it keeps itself going, that’s how it keeps its momentum.

A beggar knocks at the gate of a Bavarian convent and asks the sister on duty, “Please, do you have any old robes for me?”

A bit ruffled, the sister replies, “But this is a nunnery! We don’t have any men in this house and no men’s clothing, of course! ”

The beggar apologizes and leaves.

The Mother Superior, who has overheard the conversation, says, “You shouldn’t have told him that we are without any male protection. Now that he knows he might come one night and molest us.” After a brief moment of thought, the sister on duty opens her little window and shouts after the beggar, “Hey, you, listen! At night the house is full of men!” That’s the way of the mind - from one extreme to another; it never stops in the middle. It is extremist, either rightist or leftist; it knows nothing of the golden mean.

You ask me, Ronald: FREUD CALLED IT REGRESSIVE AND A SEEKING OF THE WOMB. THIS DOES NOT SATISFY ME.

You have not understood poor Sigmund Freud; he is one of the most misunderstood men of this century. He had many insights of tremendous value and they gain more value because of the fact that he was not an awakened man. He was a blind man groping for the door and many times he came very close to the door. But obviously, not being enlightened himself, whatsoever he says about the door, his experience of being close to it, does not have that clarity which only a Buddha or a Lao Tzu or a Jesus can have. He uses words which can be very easily misunderstood. His words are ordinary, his insights very extraordinary. It is almost a miracle that a man who knows nothing of meditation, who knows nothing of his own consciousness, has many times come so close to the truth. One step more and he may have stepped out of darkness, out of blindness.

For example, Sigmund Freud calls it regressive. It is true, but the word “regressive” hurts. Nostalgia is regressive. Of course, it does not satisfy because it does not give you any nourishment for the ego. Regressive? And you always thought it was some great poetic quality, that you had a great understanding of the past, that your memory was magical, that you could recreate the past, you could relive it as if it were there again. You may have thought of it as something of very great creative value - and Sigmund Freud comes and he calls it “regressive”. It is certainly regressive.

You think of yesterdays only because you are not grown-up yet; you are still living somewhere farther back. The average psychological age of human beings is twelve years. And that is the average, Ronald - one may be ten, eight, seven, six, five, because there are people who are sixteen, twenty, twenty-five… So don’t take the average for granted.

Just look into your nostalgia, where you are lingering in past. There must be a few special spots, a few special memories which come again and again. That’s an indication that something has remained there, something has not grown since then. A part of you is still six years of age if that is the time which gives you sad and sweet memories. If you remember some other time then another part is still clinging there. Man is spread out almost all over the way.

There is a story in India:

Shiva’s wife died and he loved the woman so much, so madly, that he in his madness thought that there must be a physician somewhere in the country who could still bring her back to life. So he carried the dead body of his wife Parvati on his shoulders and roamed around the country looking for some miracle worker, some physician who knew the secret of the nectar which could revive the woman.

Of course, the body started deteriorating: it became rotten, parts of the body started falling. But he was so mad he went on and on. The hands fell in one place, the legs fell in another, the head fell somewhere else… That’s how the Indian sacred places were born - this is the story. One part fell in Varanasi, another fell in Puri, another fell in Ujjain, and so on and so forth. The body fell in twelve parts all over the country. By the time his tour was over nothing was left; the woman had disappeared. But wherever one part of the woman fell a sacred spot arose; it became a teertha, a place for pilgrimage.

This is somehow very significant for each of you. A part of you fell when you were four years of age and that part has remained there, another part fell somewhere else… you are spread out all over the way. You are not one piece, you are a multiplicity - multi-psychic many minds. And one part of may be very grown-up and another may be very childish.

A scientist may be a very grown-up man as far as his science is concerned. When he goes into his lab he is a very skilful, intelligent person, he works with great acumen, talent, genius, but another part of his life may be very childish, almost stupid. When he is out of his lab he is a totally different person.

It is said about Karl Marx that one day he brought many boxes of cigarettes to his home. The wife was a little puzzled. Women are more together than men; they are more earth-bound, more earthly and live more closely to the present.

The wife asked, “What made you bring so many cigarettes? And we are out of money!” He said, “Don’t be worried at all! I have found a secret way of earning money, that’s why I have purchased so many cigarettes. I will tell you the secret. Just along the way while coming back home I thought about an economic law: that if you smoke twelve cigarettes per day and you can find cheaper cigarettes, then with each cigarette you will be saving money, so the more you smoke the more money is saved! So now there is no need to worry about money. I will simply smoke and money will be saved! And I have found the cheapest brand. So much money will be saved that now you need not worry!”

The woman thought he had gone mad! He closed his doors and started smoking, two cigarettes at a time, because he was in such a hurry to earn money! And the woman rushed to one of his friends, Friedrich Engels, and told him the whole thing: “He has gone mad! He is continuously smoking, and two cigarettes at a time, because he thinks that the quicker the better!”

Engels came and tried to convince him, but he argued. It was very difficult to bring him down to earth.

And this happens to many people: in one part they may be grown-up, in another part very childish.

Nostalgia is regressive. You may not like the word, but the truth is there. Sigmund Freud is very dose to the right point. And he is also right about the womb; again he is using a word which seems offensive. Who wants the womb? Who wants to go back into the womb? The very idea is sickening!

What can you get in the womb of a mother? Just the very idea will make you vomit!

Just the other day Ajit Saraswati sterilized my tailor, Veena, and my librarian Gayan went to see the operation. Before Ajit started the operation, Gayan fainted. The very idea of looking into the womb was enough! And if this is so about a woman, what about a man?

Just think: looking back into the womb - if there were a window and you could look inside - would you like to go there? You will escape as far away as possible from any womb because a few wombs are very dangerous - they can suck you in!

I have heard:

A woman was lying on the street dead and naked. A rabbi was passing by. Seeing the naked woman he removed his hat and covered her, particularly her private parts.

Then a drunkard came by. He looked at the naked woman and, being completely drunk, he thought there was a man there also. So he asked the rabbi, “What are you going to do?”

The rabbi said, “I am going to contact the hospital people.”

But the drunkard said, “First we should take this guy out. Just his hat is showing, the rest of the guy has gone. By the time you bring the hospital people the guy may have disappeared! First let us take this guy out and then you can go anywhere you want. I am concerned about this poor man.”

Who wants to go into the womb? So it offended you, Ronald, but what he means really is that those nine months in the mother’s womb - of course you are not conscious of them anymore, you were not conscious of them even when you were in the womb - were the most pleasant time. Unless you can find a more blissful space the desire to go back into the womb remains; it is an unconscious longing.

Those nine months were of tremendous silence, rest, warmth There was no worry, no problem. You were fed, you were taken care of, and everything was absolutely automatic. You were surrounded by warm water and the womb was keeping you in a very cosy space, protected, safe, secure. Those nine months are still there in your unconscious, hence there is a desire to go back to the womb. That is part of nostalgia; in fact, that is part of what you call love.

The man trying to penetrate the woman is nothing but a search for the womb - very much changed but deep down still the same search. Every man is looking for the mother and unless your woman fulfils the role of your mother you will not be happy with her.

Now you are asking something impossible, hence so much unhappiness in the world. You are asking your woman to be your mother and yet be your woman - young, very alive, beautiful and yet at the same time motherly. Now, she cannot do both things. If she has to be very beautiful according to your criterion of beauty, if she has to be very young, then she cannot be your mother. If she tries to be your mother then she will no longer be beautiful; then she will not be a Sophia Loren. Then she will be like my Sushila - she is a perfect mother! You can find the mother, but if you are asking for Sophia Loren in Sushila then there is going to be trouble! What can she do? She cannot do both things. And Sophia Loren will look good in the films, but she cannot be a mother to you. She cannot give you that warmth - she does not have that much fat. How to give you warmth? She is bony!

Don’t ask a woman to be both a model and a mother. But that’s what everybody is asking. And every woman is asking the same from the man: to be a dad and to be a lover. No man can fulfill both roles together; it is almost impossible. Hence you will be frustrated this way or that; frustration is bound to be there.

The search is for the womb. You may not like the word “womb”, but that’s your misunderstanding.

Nothing is wrong with Freud using the word, but you have misunderstood it.

Punya has sent me a joke. She says, “This is a real joke. I heard it on the main street of the ashram between the boutique and the bag check.”

One sannyasin said to another sannyasin, “What I can’t stand about this ashram is: wherever you look, there are queues.”

The other said, “What? Jews?”

This is your misunderstanding, Ronald.

Mr. Gold had been married for many years when he had to go to Paris for a business trip.

In that city of love, he easily fell victim to the amorous advances of the pretty mademoiselle. But somehow Mrs. Gold found out about it. She wired her husband at his hotel, “Come home! Why spend money there for what you can get here for free?”

The next day she received a cable in reply: “I know you and your bargains!”

Just a misunderstanding on your part…

An English vicar checked into a large hotel. As he was walking up the main stairway he met a tiny old lady half-way up, panting for breath and carrying an enormous suitcase.

He eagerly took the case from the speechless old lady and carried it to the top of the stairs.

When he returned to help her up, she kicked him viciously in the shins. “It took me ten minutes to carry my case that far down!” she shouted.

Ella: “I’m homesick!”

Bella: “But this is your home.”

Ella: “I know, and I’m sick of it!”

The newly-arrived ambassador to a Far Eastern country called on the Emperor to present his credentials. Although he was disturbed by the presence of so many comely, half-nude maidens in the palace, he was determined not to show it. Trying to restrict the conversation to affairs of state, he asked, “Your Highness, when was the last time you had an election?”

“Ah,” said the Emperor, with a smile and a sly wink, “Just befo” blekfast!“

Ronald, the problem is not with poor Sigmund Freud, the problem is with you! What can he do if it does not satisfy you? It is not a question of satisfying you - the truth is truth.

You say: SOMETIMES THE PERFUME OF A FLOWER, SOUNDS, A PLACE OR AN INCIDENT FROM CHILDHOOD, CAN EVOKE A FEW SECONDS OF FEELING AND YEARNING THAT ARE SO SAD AND SO SWEET, IT CAN CHOKE ME WITH ITS INTENSITY.

It is possible only if this moment is not intense enough to grip you totally, only if something is left out of this moment if you are holding back.

For twenty-five years I have never thought of my past, of my childhood - no nostalgia. And I have never thought about the future either. This moment is so much - in fact, too much - so overwhelming, who bothers about past and future?

You say: MY CHILDHOOD WAS NOT SO HAPPY, NOR IS THE WOMB SO APPEALING THAT MERE SENTIMENTALITY FOR "THE OLD DAYS” CAN EXPLAIN IT.

Nobody’s childhood can be happy, it cannot be happy for the simple reason that the child is so dependent, so helpless. He is continuously being manipulated by the parents, by the teachers, he is continuously repressed by everybody, ordered, commanded. No child can be ever happy, but everybody, later on, thinks that the childhood was the most beautiful thing that happened to him.

The reason is again relative: the childhood was miserable, but now you are in far more misery! Now the childhood looks beautiful: seeing all the worries of life and the responsibilities and the troubles and the anxieties, it looks beautiful. But that is the only relative - the older you become, the more beautiful it will look.

That’s why it is both sad and sweet. The sadness is its truth and the sweetness is your invention.

And when the childhood was not happy - you say it was not happy - that simply shows you must be living a really miserable life today. If even an unhappy childhood attracts you, that shows only one thing and shows it definitely: that today is just dark, meaningless, hence the past pulls you backwards.

I can say only one thing to you: learn the art of meditation - meditation simply means the art of being herenow totally, absolutely - and then all this nonsense about nostalgia will disappear. Otherwise, it is going to remain with you to the very end.

From the cradle to the grave people go on living somewhere where they cannot live and go on escaping from the only place where it is possible to live.

we’ve seen the severe consequence of suppressing the feminine/left brain qualities since the church’s reigns 

these are the energies contained by all beings regardless of physical form

they are supposed to be in harmony, like all dualities. they do not exist without the other. there has been a discordant disequilibrium whereby the feminine has been buried, and therefore masculine energies have an empty space to fill, and so these energies have themselves become defiled and devouring. the blood of menstruation became shameful but we gorged on the ‘blood of christ’ because this energy could not create its own. a virgin was once revered, a being pure in its ability to self create with indwelling functions, but even this terminology became violated, and suddenly the orgasm that had been worshiped for its profound spiritual energy that replicates the creative energies of the great mother was an energy to be internalised, left unsatisfied, a source of shame, impure for apparently being touched by the ‘pure’, the contradictions become compelling. this imbalance has resonated through all beings and contaminated the collective, masculine energies become devouring and our values lose alignment. we pillar these energies as superior qualities and we see the results, a worship of power, control, materialism, loss of touch with the inner world, logic, and left brain functions, so we have lost the value in its polarity - the values of creativity, empathy, the inner world, and nurturing. in this imbalance we have lost the ability to nurture each other, and we have lost the ability to nurture the feminine that is active inside everyone 

it’s consciousness that alters this process. remember it was only the light of consciousness that killed hydra’s heads. we must consciously re-activate these qualities so these can be again at one. what this does not mean then is defiling the other which is the masculine, because by this act we are doomed to repeat the same process where dualities become imbalanced. neither is more or less divine, its only through togetherness divinity is achieved 

anonymous asked:

could you give a little comparison/summary of all the signs developed and undeveloped? (also lil question, is it possible to be half developed and half undeveloped?) thanks ❤️

Sure! - 

Aries: Developed - Motivated, confident, capable of defending themselves without attacking others. Underdeveloped - Cocky, can’t differentiate defense from offence,  ignorant

Taurus: Developed - Determined, patient, generous. Underdeveloped - Greedy, lazy, over-indulgent. 

Gemini: Developed - Inspirational, eager to learn, easy to talk to. Underdeveloped - Two-faced, aloof, insensitive

Cancer: Developed - Caring, protective, ambitious. Underdeveloped - Jealous, Moody, wallowing

Leo: Developed - Confident, self assured, brings out the best in others. Underdeveloped - Self centered, bully, snobbish

Virgo: Developed - Efficient, helpful, creative. Underdeveloped - Values purely academic success, cold, thinks their way is always the right way.

Libra: Developed - Caring, mediators, peaceful. Underdeveloped - Door mats, overly idealistic, gullible.

Scorpio: Developed - Deep thinkers, resilient, loyal. Underdeveloped - Possessive, wallowing, thinks their lives are 1000x worse than anyone elses.

Sagittarius: Developed - Wise, love to experience, able to see the bigger picture. Underdeveloped - Blunt, tries to tell others how to live, can get lazy.

Capricorn: Developed - Ambitious, determined, success-oriented. Underdeveloped - Aloof, cold, deceitful. 

Aquarius: Developed - Inventive, brings out the uniqueness in others, fights for equality. Underdeveloped - “Special snowflake” mindset, rebellious without cause, detached.

Pisces: Developed - Spiritual, empathic, forgiving. Underdeveloped - Manipulative, self-victimizing, escapists. 

(Also yes you can be half and half, it’s sort of like a thing that develops over time!)

The first time I took the test on Pottermore, I got Gryffindor, but some people have said I’m a Hufflepuff because I can be really nice and sweet.

I went through a slight period of House Identity Crisis, but now I’m 99.9999% certain I’m a Ravenclaw. I mean, it really makes sense. I’ve done quite a few Ravenclaw things, like copy down a basic International Phonetics Alphabet table for a class I have next year in college. I also highly value open-mindedness and creativity and I’m seen as quite odd.

And for Ilvermorny, I got Thunderbird the first time, which makes too much sense because I like to write to escape to new worlds and I hate routine and the house values adventurers.

Captain Underpants is like Dreamworks’ own Lego Movie. It values creativity and fun over anything else. Like, almost every scene involves a really clever gag that’s never been done before.

A while back, my boyfriend and I were talking about feeling disconnected from our deities. I gave him some advice that I’d like to repeat here.

First, it is not a vital thing to have a deep, exciting, saga-worthy connection to a deity. They do not have to be your bosom buddy, your confidante, or the most important figure in your life. If you never have any deep, personal interaction with them, and all they are in your life is a distant figure whose stories you find meaningful…that’s okay. That’s enough. That’s wonderful, and amazing, and perfect. 

Mysticism does not have to be the backbone of your faith. To borrow a phrase that I heard often growing up Catholic, not all of us are called to spiritual service; most of us will live and die without ever intimately knowing the will of God (or, in this case, gods).

My advice is to make a list of all the things that first drew you to the deity or deities you honor. If it’s more a case of you feel that they called and you were compelled to answer, make a list of the things that made you want to answer.

Make a list of the traits, associations, and behaviors that made you look at that deity and say, “Yes, this is who I want to hold up as important. This is who I look at and am inspired by.”

Then do what you can to honor those things. If you value a deity’s creativity, do what you can to foster creativity in yourself and others. If you value a deity’s connection to agriculture, tend your own garden, support sustainable farming, or just stop to smell the roses. If you value a deity’s knowledge and wisdom, spend time researching and reading about the things you find interesting. Etc., etc.

These things don’t even have to be formally dedicated to that deity, if you don’t want to make them a big deal. It is enough to just do them, and live your life as a reflection of what inspires you.

You do not have to develop a grand, epic, personal relationship with a deity to honor them. You do not have to even fully believe they exist. It is enough to know what it is about them that you find valuable, inspiring, and worthy of emulation.

6

The Flash characters + Values - Cisco Ramon [3/?]

I know you’re new here, so I’m just gonna break it down for you. The whole naming the bad guys thing? That’s my jam.

MBTI types and Kinds of Thinking

Creative thinking: ability to conceive new innovative ideas by breaking from established thoughts, thories, rules and procedures.
Analytical thinking: ability to separate a whole into basic parts, in order to examine the parts and their relationship.
Critica thinking: ability to exercise careful evaluation and judment in order to determine accuracy, worth, validity and value of something.

Creative thinking: probably anyone can “think outside the box” in certain (and right) situation, so i think “ALL TYPE”
Analytical thinking: ISFJ, INFJ, ISTP, INTP, ENTP, ESTP, ESFJ, ENFJ
Critical thinking: ISTJ, INTJ, ISFP, INFP, ENFP, ESFP, ESTJ, ENTJ

(more than one can be used sometimes)

My World is a Kaleidoscope

My world is like a kaleidoscope, I want to tell them
Soft pastels bleed into a setting resembling a Monet painting, while a single thread of focus holds my attention
A book, a particularly rhythmic piece of music, the bliss of a soft pair of pants
It sounds silly, to say it out loud, but my world is not the same as your world
Or maybe we just experience it through different lenses

I won’t lie, it isn’t all beautiful
The sound of someone using a paper towel grinds on my ears like the shriek of monkeys
If you say something to me in the wrong tone of voice, I have to try and convince myself you aren’t angry

People tell me I look nice with my hair up, but what they don’t know is that wearing it down makes my neck feel as though a million pine needles are rubbing against my skin
I couldn’t wear jeans until I was in middle school, because their fabric felt like sandpaper on my skin
When I went to primary school in England, my mother had to order special shirts for my uniforms because if someone tried to put a polo on me, I would cry and scream because the collar felt like someone was strangling me

There used to be a commercial about recognizing the signs of a stroke, with Sharon Stone in it
She wore all white makeup, and the lighting would menacingly flicker in, and she’d talk in a deep, monotone voice
And every time I saw that commercial, up until I was 12 or 13 and they stopped airing it, I would instantly feel my blood go cold and my skin go clammy
My heart would start beating really fast, and since I didn’t know what was happening to me, all I could do was scream until someone else ran in to mute the commercial
It was involuntary, I have no idea what it was about that commercial, but I remember it vividly
I remember being ashamed, embarrassed, that I could not control myself
That part never went away

I want to tell them that I am an artist
When I was little, I mean, like two years old, I used to memorize the names of all the Crayola colors in the box
And when I went to pre k, and everyone else was learning red, green, blue
I knew magenta, burnt sienna, turquoise, sky blue, royal blue, violet, periwinkle, lime
I said these colors like they were the gospel because to me they were something beautiful, and I loved all of them

I couldn’t hold a pencil until I was in third or fourth grade, and I had to get special permission to type my assignments
My hand didn’t have the fine motor skills necessary for writing, which meant it didn’t have the motor skills necessary for coloring or drawing neat little pictures

But everyday, I’d bring my parents piles of artwork, piles of colored pictures, all outside of the lines, all scribbled glory and unabashed youth
Kids used to make fun of me, and I spent so much time crying out near the cubbies because I couldn’t color like they did, or write my name like they did
Then they made fun of me for crying, but I kept drawing

Today I’ve won county, state, and regional contests, when I was a freshmen my art made it to a national contest through 4H
And still, sometimes my hand will drop a pencil, or fling a utensil out in front of my desk for no reason
And everyone will look at me, but I don’t cry anymore
Never in front of them again

I want to tell them that I love science
When I was very young, I mean, 4 years old, my mom pulled up videos of amoebas on our home computer
I thought those were the greatest, funniest things in the world, the way they ate up the other organisms and absorbed them into their own mass
I used to look up different types of bacteria, strep and staph and their different strains, I looked up genetic diseases and the rarest medical conditions
My favorite show was House M.D. as a fourth grader

When asked what I wanted to be when I grew up, I said a neurologist, than I said neuro-genetics, and now I say biochemistry and genetics
I used to be ashamed and scared of my interests, and nobody ever wanted to talk to me about CRISPR or gene therapy or cloning, and now these things are assets to me
I’ve been lucky enough to know what I wanted to do since I was six, and I think how many people get to know what their passions are before they even know how to write

I want to tell them about my family
My sister, the nonconformist who loves to read and despises fractions with a passion
Whose wit is sharp enough to slice steel, whose stubbornness and perseverance earned her the affectionate nickname “little buffalo”
My little sister with perfect pitch, who plays two instruments and isn’t even in middle school yet
My sister who has the best stories but can’t spell to save her life, who is the most creative mind in school but is confined to fill-in-the-blank standardized tests that confuse her
My sister, who people keep reminding me “isn’t like me,” they see me the say “prodigy”
And they see her and they think “unfocused, doesn’t apply herself, isn’t academically gifted but has a great personality,” which is to say they only value creativity when it’s measureable, profitable

My mother, who knows what I am going through and sees too much of herself in me for this to be an accident
Who grew up dissecting animals on the farm because she loved anatomy, who couldn’t follow social conventions, who never had the opportunities I do now
My mother who grew up in a time where people like my sister and I weren’t accommodated but beaten, whispered about, stared at in the middle of small town gatherings
My mother who lost friendships with other parents who took personal offense to me as a child, who raised me with no knowledge on what Autism Spectrum actually meant
My mother who has grown so much, who sees her own childhood and experiences finally explained in me and through the information now available

My father, who is so quiet and also the entire comforting roar of ocean waves
He is an artist like me, but also a builder, a thinker, an innovator
A master of blending in, and still I recognize an air of familiarity
In the exhilarated discussion of the Everglades and tropical fish, and in the brutal scrutiny in his carpentry
I hesitate letting him in on school projects because even though I know that with him it will be absolutely perfect, he will spend an hour trying to get the paper on the poster board straight
My father, the kitchen’s beat boxer and repeater of words, the artist and builder and crafter, who loves my sister and I and understands as closely as anyone will ever get

I want to tell them that I, that we, people like me, are not accidents
We’re not just mistakes in genetic code, or a series of environmental factors, or puzzles waiting to be solved
If they really want to get to know us, they can just ask us
Our lives aren’t always easy, we suffer sometimes, I know I’ve suffered sometimes
Sometimes we can be tedious, our needs may be difficult to pinpoint, our behavior may shock you or horrify you or scare you or bewilder you
But then, at this point I ask, doesn’t everyone have moments like this
We are all burdens, we are all gifts, we are all worthy of living as we are

I want to tell them that I don’t want to be fixed, because there is nothing to be fixed
Maybe I’d like to not bang my head against a wall when I’m stressed, or not be too uncomfortable to be hugged, or not scratch and pick at my skin when I’m anxious, or not be unable to talk sometimes, or not feel like my brain is stuffed with cotton during verbal conversations
Maybe I’d like to be able to write like other people, to be able to copy down pictures and graphs in my physics and math classes with ease like they do, to be able to read numbers like they do, to be able to go to parties and malls and social gatherings without feeling like I’m floating away like they do

But I think of all the things I’d potentially be giving up if they would have their “cure”
My drawings, maybe I’d still be an artist, but I never would have had the determination, the passion I do now because I would have known what it was like to color inside the lines, my art would not be the same
Maybe I’d still like science, but I would never have spent hours researching the human brain and psychology and genetics, I would never have known the joy and amusement I felt when my mother showed toddler-me the amoebas

Maybe my sister would still be a musician, but she would not have the focus to listen to the same song over and over, the ability to recognize when a note is flat or sharp or just right without looking at sheet music
She’d never have the compassion and open-mindedness she has now because she knows what it’s like to truly function differently from everyone else and be ridiculed for it

Maybe we wouldn’t have our problems anymore, but we also wouldn’t be us anymore
Our experiences would be taken from us in the name of our own good, our passion exchanged in the name of normalcy

They can argue with me all they want, tell me I don’t know what I’m talking about, call me a liar, dare to call me “high-functioning”
But they will never know what it’s like at all, they’ll never see the world as a kaleidoscope

And that’s okay, but what I really want to tell them, is that they don’t have to be afraid
I want to tell them that their children are going to be okay, and they are too
I know it’s hard, I know it’s confusing, but they will get through this and their kids are not broken, they too will persevere

I want to tell them that vaccines did not cause this, we have always been here
I want to tell them that people don’t grow out of this, there are plenty of adults on the spectrum, and that’s okay

I want to tell them that trying to make their kid “normal” only teaches them to be ashamed, and only teaches them to hide their true nature, which only causes more problems
I want to tell them that even if there was a cure, they’d be altering the entirety of a person’s mind, their interests, behavior, personality, potential experiences, and I don’t think that that is a choice anyone should get to make

I want to tell them that they’ll never entirely understand, no one can entirely understand another person’s brain anyway and it would be foolish to try and generalize anyways
I want to tell them that’s okay
We just experience things from different lenses

Validation

So you know that feeling where you churn out a self indulgent Marichat trash drabble in like an hour and you get several hundred likes/reblogs in minutes But then you write something a little more outside your comfort zone that you are really proud of and no one says anything???? 

 That’s been my feelings about a lot of my work lately. The things I am proud of seem to be hated, and random crack pieces get insanely popular… 

 It’s taken a toll on my work and hasn’t helped me focus through my depression. It makes me wonder if I actually have talent or if I just am ok at filling a particular niche. 

 As much as we try as artist to do everything for ourselves, its easy to fall victim to the need for validation. To feel like our time and creativity is valued. 

 However, validation doesn’t mean hundred, or even dozens, of comments and likes. Sometimes just having a few is enough to get you motivated. 

 And then if you are really, really lucky, your whole world fills with sparkly rainbows because you wake up and find that someone (Looking at you @hchano) drew you fanart, and it’s perfect, and you remember how much you love your own work and that it doesn’t matter if everyone loves it as long as you do and can share it with your friends!

Originally posted by gifsforthemasses

This is why it is so important to show your support for the artists and writers that you follow. Give them likes, kudos, reblogs, comments… you never know if you will be the one person that makes them feel like its all worth it! 

(Also I am so excited for H to post her art later its sooooooo goooooooddd like omg… I seriously got teary eyed when I saw it this morning) 

I’m going to let you in on a little secret.
Weaknesses can be strengths if you take hold of them like a steering wheel.
—  B. E. Barnes