De stress yourself here now.

[melanie]

Handle every stressful situation like a dog.
If you can't eat it or play with it, just pee on it and walk away.



er, I nay'd ave believed you cud have this much fun wit a computer

[theunify]

Is there an app for that? I'd love to destress on the go.

~theunify

Handle every stressful situation like a dog.
If you can't eat it or play with it, just pee on it and walk away.



er, I nay'd ave believed you cud have this much fun wit a computer

[melanie]

Is there an app for that? I'd love to destress on the go.

~theunify

Yes there is ........ and here it is >

Imagine a wave, 'moving through' the ocean.
It approaches the shore (its apparent destination) and crashes onto it.
The wave doesn't appear to be there any more.
But has the wave 'gone' anywhere? Has the wave 'disappeared'?
No, there was never a separate wave to begin with.
It was never 'born' so it cannot really 'disappear'.
There was only the ocean, appearing temporarily as a wave.
The wave actually went... nowhere.
There was no destination in the end,
except the absence of the one who would 'reach' it.
A non-existent wave cannot die...


Eternal souls? Eternal presence? Reincarnation? Rebirth? Afterlife?

It is all as real as 'you' are.

[labelwench]

Where do waves 'go' when they reach the shore?

Love it.......

Ever notice how those waves just keep on coming?

With the occasion 'becalmed sea' for variety.

[austintorn@aol.com]

The waves help push water on unto the sands, wetting our entwined bodies on the sandy upslope, as in our movie ‘From Here to Maternity’, some water sinking into the sands, the rest receding, perhaps even adding to an incoming wave, or partly nullifying it by going into the troughs.

[austintorn@aol.com]

CELEBRATION OF SOULS After love was made, we, connected, stayed, and, in each other’s embrace we laid, still in place, while our senses melted away, and were felt no more that day, having been replaced by a new sense, a joy that lay beyond sense—a realm of calm deeply felt as everywhere it dwelt, a sensation both mystical and totally magical.

In it we drifted, crossing oceans filled with good emotions, and floated down through deep caverns—deep we flew, rising and falling through a space where no thoughts could race, weightless, unlimited, unmeasured, in the poetic land of many pleasures—there becoming invisible, losing our bodily presence, choosing to remain as one, although to even move would have required too much effort—of which we had none, for, in spirit we had one become: ghostly phantoms, specters with human powers known only in myth, lying, awash, on some distant shore, our senses shining forevermore, like the sun, a scarlet flame above—beings quenched in the sea of love.

The pulse of love was still much with us as we lay awash on the shore, resting, entwined, in the paradise of lovemaking, where, we rode upon the waves, receding and returning, wet with liquid peace, fulfilled, as now and yet again small wavelets from the soul’s ocean of emotion swept on through us, in ripples, echoes of the storm’s mighty swell, vibrating and rinsing. Waves seemed to come from within us, yet, from all around, relaxing us, as each other we kissed, while rivulets ran back into the sea, every drop tingling as it found us in caress; then another, and yet another drop quivered its waving way over us, cascading, while we yet embraced, connected all the while in one all, flowing, immersed in romantic afterglow, water sinking into the sands, half drying before wetting again—moisture rising up into the air in one fluid motion toward the sun; then, yet one last whisper of watery sensation... calling us back into the sea.

[melanie]

CELEBRATION OF SOULS After love was made, we, connected, stayed, and, in each other’s embrace we laid, still in place, while our senses melted away, and were felt no more that day, having been replaced by a new sense, a joy that lay beyond sense—a realm of calm deeply felt as everywhere it dwelt, a sensation both mystical and totally magical.

In it we drifted, crossing oceans filled with good emotions, and floated down through deep caverns—deep we flew, rising and falling through a space where no thoughts could race, weightless, unlimited, unmeasured, in the poetic land of many pleasures—there becoming invisible, losing our bodily presence, choosing to remain as one, although to even move would have required too much effort—of which we had none, for, in spirit we had one become: ghostly phantoms, specters with human powers known only in myth, lying, awash, on some distant shore, our senses shining forevermore, like the sun, a scarlet flame above—beings quenched in the sea of love.

The pulse of love was still much with us as we lay awash on the shore, resting, entwined, in the paradise of lovemaking, where, we rode upon the waves, receding and returning, wet with liquid peace, fulfilled, as now and yet again small wavelets from the soul’s ocean of emotion swept on through us, in ripples, echoes of the storm’s mighty swell, vibrating and rinsing. Waves seemed to come from within us, yet, from all around, relaxing us, as each other we kissed, while rivulets ran back into the sea, every drop tingling as it found us in caress; then another, and yet another drop quivered its waving way over us, cascading, while we yet embraced, connected all the while in one all, flowing, immersed in romantic afterglow, water sinking into the sands, half drying before wetting again—moisture rising up into the air in one fluid motion toward the sun; then, yet one last whisper of watery sensation... calling us back into the sea.

Very beautiful Austin.

You took the words right out of my mouth.

EM brace yourself.

[melanie]

He came home. Said nothing.
It was clear, though, that something had gone wrong.
He lay down fully dressed.
Pulled the blanket over his head.
Tucked up his knees.
He's nearly forty, but not at the moment.
He exists just as he did inside his mother's womb,
clad in seven walls of skin, in sheltered darkness.
Tomorrow he'll give a lecture
on homeostasis in metagalactic cosmonautics.
For now, though, he has curled up and gone to sleep.

Wislawa Szymborska

[melanie]

Where do waves 'go' when they reach the shore?

They go to the same place that bubbles go to when they pop.

[labelwench]

De-stressing.....

Why do we instinctively assume the fetal position when we seek to escape from an over-active mind and physical stress factors?



A remake of a classic song with a stressful situation as the video accompaniment.