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"I got more views in one hour than I got in a month." -Mariano
Hoje, no meu caminho para o trabalho, perguntei a mim mesmo se seria possível captar a essência de alguém simplesmente por a olhar. No fundo trata-se de perceber daqui para lá ou de lá para cá se existe impacto no que estamos a observar.
Quando olho para ti, tento buscar o ínfimo pormenor do teu olhar, tento chegar lá bem fundo, como quem escava um buraquinho para poder colocar a raiz de uma planta. Tenho aquela sensação de que consigo plantar aquela parte do meu coração, que te quero dar mesmo sem palavras, como se alma falasse por mim e te pudesse dizer o quanto te amo, o quanto és importante para mim.
O meu amor tem a sustentabilidade do betão, concreto e poderoso, mais do que alguma coisa antes sentida por mim. Tu tens aquela força em mim, repetindo à razão porque o tempo deixou de ter pressa e passou a ser pano de fundo de um concreto estado absoluto de amor.
Hoje antes de te deixar, tentei que os meus olhos falassem...queria ter braços que chegassem até ai, neste agora que é o meu momento. Bem sei que os braços da vida cada vez mais se estendem, apoiados no meu coração. mas eu quero mais, porque tu me fazes querer ser mais e eu, nesta profunda admiração e orgulho na pessoa que és, quero descobrir-te mais e mais, linda que és dentro de mim...
Ontem aquele miminho que te levei à noite, falou comigo quando o vi...quando na minha busca por algo que te roubasse aquele sorriso lindo que tens de quatro segundos, me fez voltar atrás depois de passar por ele. E tu és isto: a busca incessante de algo que te roube o mais pequeno segundo de ti, para o colocar direitinho no meu coração.
I have a little routine when I wake up in the mornings, it happens something a little like this:
This usually happens a few times before I actually get out of bed, yesterday morning was slightly different. Why? It was an exam day. Instead of shielding my eyes from the sunlight my mouth turned dry, my head span, my palms started sweating, my stomach wrenched uncomfortably and a million thoughts started rushing through my head. What if I didn't revise enough? What if I forgot the time of the exam? My morning was filled with worries.
Now, a day later, I feel lethargic. As do many of my classmates who sat the exam. So what is it about exam that is so worrying? Well the honest answer is I don't know. Well of course I do, there are many worry things about exams. The important ones can change the course of your life. But even the ones that are not this important are somewhat worrying. But why? Why worry?
I think the main cause for exam stress is the constant self-depreciating comparison to others. The first thing you do when your results come through is to compare with others. But we were not born like this. We did not come out of our mother comparing notes, can you imagine it? "Oh my stay was much better than yours" says one infant to another. This is a ludicrous thought. So where does this need come from?
So I'm over 55 and I still have things I need to accomplish. The problem is even tho a lot of these things are dreams and goals I made in my 20's, my body cannot do (as easily) what it could all those so many years ago.
My bucket is getting rusty and my list is gonna fallout if I don't take better care of me and start crossing some things off of the list!
perhaps you can already spot a theme. yes, I'm a bit obsessed with planes. (in the last year i've been on fifteen)
i'm not sure what it is, perhaps it's that you are completely helpless. yes, i know i've watched countless movies and even played by brother's xbox game, but i've certainly never done anything close to landing a plane. when you're in the air, you aren't in a country, you're going somewhere you might never have been before, about to try things you've never done.
i love planes, they take you somewhere new to teach you something about yourself.
What do you do when you find yourself, a grown man with a wife and children, sitting in your car outside your office sobbing like a baby? That was me approximately four years ago this past spring. Unfortunately, sometimes we suck at life.
That was a low point for me. I had it all; a good paying career, a wonderful and supportive wife, and four awesome children. Yet I sat in my car wallowing in self-pity and doubt. But it was more that; it was a true depressive panic attack. I could not control it. I was on the verge of calling in from my car to quit my job.
Thank God the call I made was to a different individual who talked with me and “encouraged” me through the remainder of the day. The subsequent shift in my outlook was not instantaneous. It was incremental. And it was life-altering.
When life hands us a lemon we can pucker up and curse the world, or we can be thankful that we were handed something for free. My crying jag was a pivotal moment where I had to decide which way I was going to go. For many years prior I sucked on the lemon and bemoaned The Fates. This time; however, I chose differently.
At first I was going to title this talking VS doing, but the whole point is that you need both.
I'm sure you've all heard "Don't talk the talk, walk the walk" or some variation of it, point being you need to follow through with your actions. "Actions speak louder than words" too.
And this is true for the most part. But you need both. You can't just rely on the doing, even moreso today than 50 years ago (of course I wasn't around 50 years ago so I could be mistaken).
In the vast majority of cases, a person should follow the traditional advice so they err on the side more doing, less talking. But, if you're smart or productive and have legit value to the world, often the doing isn't enough. In fact, the highly competent people could probably reverse the old sayings and turn out better.
After ten years running Samovar Tea Lounge I’ve experienced many highs and my fair share of low points. The worst times were the periods of fear, uncertainty, and doubt--the three demons that eclipse goodness and hope, consuming everything in their path as things that once seemed so sure and solid crumble to pieces.
Over the years I’ve had plenty of opportunity to look Fear in the eyes, and while it’s never been easy, with the guidance of mentors, friends, family, and a whole lot of reflection I’ve learned to stand my ground. Here’s what I’ve learned.
Name it. Face it down. Look it in the eyes. Call out what you feel: Fear? Say it. Anxiety? Say it. Anger? Say it and identify it. Running or squirming away from the feeling will only make it bigger.
Be present. This moment is the only moment. Do whatever it takes to become present. I like to pay attention to my breath. Inhale for an eight-count. Exhale for an eight-count. Repeat three or four times, increasing the length of both the in- and out-breath.
I've been taking a science class recently. It's almost done (*happy dance!!!*), and I've been very tired. Anyway, I was coming home from school today when I realized just how tired I truly feel, and the fact that no amount of rest is actually making it better. Anyway, for a long time, I'd always been afraid of Jesus' Second Return. I guess for a moment I forgot what is really waiting for me on the other side. I was focusing on something else "For where your treasure is, there your heart will be also" (Luke 12:34). But today, as I was coming home, I smiled at the thought of the eternal peace and rest waiting for me in Heaven. So I say, any who are suffering, search for Him, and you WILL find peaceful rest.
The main characters are Abuelo and his grandson Antonito. Abuelo starts telling Antonito about life when he was a boy, when he brought up a bull, he called it Paco. Abuelo went to a bull dance and he didn't want Paco to be killed, so one night he got on Chika- the mare he usually rode, to round up the herd of bulls and set Paco free. Paco, Abuelo and Chica saw war planes which bombed on Sauseda, his village. Abuelo led down on Chika but fell off. His uncle found him and took him home.
I liked the story because of the diferent textures Michael Morpurgo used. I learnt about bullfighting and what life was like in Spain during the civil war of the 1930's. I would recommend this book to children aged six and upwards