literature
Whether written centuries ago or just last year, literary couples show that love is timeless.
International Yoga Day Cultivating Mindfulness for Inner Peace and Balance
Observed annually on June 21st, International Yoga Day is a significant global celebration that shines a spotlight on the traditional practice of yoga and its wide-ranging advantages for the body, mind, and spirit. Originating in ancient India, yoga has become a widely embraced holistic approach to enhancing mental and physical well-being on a worldwide scale. In the following discussion, we will delve into the importance of International Yoga Day and examine the positive effects that yoga can have on mental health. To establish harmony between the body, mind, and spirit, yoga is a comprehensive system that incorporates physical postures (asanas), controlled breathing techniques (pranayama), meditation, and ethical principles. Yoga's very name, which signifies the harmonious unification of diverse elements within an individual, means union. Positive social relationships are a common outcome of individual yoga practice, and offering affordable or complementary classes to those with limited financial means allows more people to experience the benefits of inner peace and physical wellness.
By Hridya Sharmaa day ago in Humans
THE SKY
In a world fraught with confusion and neglect, the colors of the sky—blue, white, and the fiery hues of sunset—often serve as silent witnesses to the tumult of human existence. Each color, with its own symbolic weight, becomes intertwined in a dance of conflict and mingling, reflecting the chaos and the calm, the passion and the purity that characterize our earthly experience.
By shumaila bibi2 days ago in Humans
Whispers of the Unseen
The Adventure of a Little Ghost, as Told in Whispers of the Unseen The melancholy of the Little Ghost One particular house had a transparent figure that wandered about the rooftop of the house. The area was a charming suburban community where the houses stood peacefully beneath the starry sky. This was Emily's house, and the ghost was her unborn daughter, Lila. Emily's house was named after her. The shape of Lila's body sparkled softly with an ethereal light, and her large, wide eyes were filled with a mixture of melancholy and yearning. During the moment that she was hunching slightly and reaching up with one hand to wipe away a tear, a strand of gray hair drifted over her head.
By Estalontech3 days ago in Humans
Techniques to Learn Faster and Retain More
Have you ever envied characters like those in the movie 'Limitless,' who effortlessly absorb vast amounts of information? While a magic pill for perfect memory remains fictional, understanding the science behind memory can significantly enhance our ability to learn and retain information effectively.
By Destiny Osaretin Ebare6 days ago in Humans
The Quiet Crisis of Loneliness
The Intimate Affliction of Today’s Disconnected World In our hyper-connected world, where social media, instant messaging, and constant online interaction are the norms, a paradoxical phenomenon has taken root: loneliness. This pervasive and often silent affliction is affecting millions, transcending age, geography, and social status. While technology promises to bridge the gaps between us, it appears to be widening them, leading to an intimate crisis that many are reluctant to admit.
By Irsa Sultan8 days ago in Humans
Madness Needs Direction
Madness needs direction - I've not a doubt in my mind about it. Madness must be tamed with a gentle whipping that corrects the act like a lion in a circus. Madness needs a cigarette in the morning before the day begins, since the day would be wasted did it not begin with joy; the joyousness of drawing deep into our lungs a puff of smoke for the iron horse that continually holds the power to bring soothing, to bring ease, to bring calm into the revolting state of existential dread. The morning smoke brings purpose to an otherwise meaningless curiousity that we all too simply label as life. And our purpose is death, or at least that's what it becomes. We age - graciously or otherwise - and learn to be less concerned with all the atrocities that this thing called life brings about. Or we don't learn this, and we delve deeper, we seek further the blackness, or the psychotic absurdity that is the will to live and to survive. I smoke the morning smoke, not because I'm a punk rocker defying authority, nor because I believe that good health and the enemy of natural endorphins are something to be shunned or ignored, good health is a healthy choice. I smoke the morning cigarette, each and every morning, in an attempt to partake in the devastatingly tricky game of accepting my inevitable fate, which is of course, death. It comes to all of us, and it makes us all the more mad knowing it. Whether old age, cancer, or being struck suddenly by a passing bus, it comes to us. It makes us mad, this is the reason for insanity. Love is a losing game, she said, but I say that to live is a losing game. This madness needs direction. Us curious ones are like the puppy without a leash, a dog without an owner. We wander the streets and look into the shop windows and see the things we can't afford to buy, we then resolve the nagging curiosity by staring into the sky and pondering the cosmos, the great abyss, as if that is going to solve it. I've been like the lost dog. I've stood on main roads and watched the headlights barely miss me as I contemplate no longer whether fate or luck is at work. It's fate that I was mad enough to stand in front of the cars, it's luck that they narrowly missed me. I write. I write because madness needs direction. I strum and I bash at the strings of my guitar as I sing my heart out when I've drunk too much red wine, because madness needs direction. I spend the last of my money on booze, or what little I have on a gamble, because madness needs direction. I sit here in this bar, spending my money and writing this story and listening to the bar room chatter and my headphones playing and staring out the window and smoking cigarettes because madness needs direction. And I had no where to be today. I see the lady outside pushing a trolley full of parcels she's collected and a baby strapped to her chest and her toddler following along. She has direction. The men who don't mind drinking in the mornings continue their chatter and all of our days go on. I think I'll go and have a cigarette.
By Michael O'Connor8 days ago in Humans