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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/books/item_id/1101898-The-Dharma-Force/sort_by/entry_order DESC, entry_creation_time DESC/page/5
Rated: 13+ · Book · Opinion · #1101898
For every dark cloud, there is a silver lining. Does anyone has change for mine?
We are the BORG. Resistance is Futile!
Excuse me.
We are the BLOG, read, comment or be assimilated.

(If that joke is old, please drop me a line. Thank you very much!)

I never took myself seriously. Why should you? But at least I have some good qualities.
I am a good listener even though I am not that good of a writer.
I don't like to talk about myself that much, so please comment on your thoughts.
I am satisfied with my life, which makes me a very unbalanced person.
I do not get bored easily, but please feel free to try.
I do not have much free time, so that makes me a Dad.
Oh, and because of the previous three items, I can only write in Fantasy Genre. I fantasize about the time the kids will move out.
(I will delete and deny ever wrote the above sentences when the time comes that either my wife or my kids found out about my blog.)

OK. Let's pull up a chair!

No, wait! Where are you going?
Please come back! Please!
(A bit too much? Tune down a little bit? )

** Images For Use By Upgraded+ Only **
That's my new picture.
No, not the toilet.
Didn't you see me wave in the tank?
Previous ... 1 2 3 4 -5- 6 ... Next
June 4, 2006 at 1:02am
June 4, 2006 at 1:02am
#430771
That last entry was too dreadful and gloomy.

So I decided to post another one. One thing I do not want my kids to learn, at least from me, is depression.

You can only play the cards you are dealt with.

I'd like to tell another story from the Chinese Ghost Stories book. It turns out, my father has a copy of the book in his library. I was flipping through it today. This one is named "Cricket".

In Ming Dynasty, (Which is about 500 years ago) there was an emperor who loved crickets. He decreed that each province was to send a fixed number of crickets to the Palace each year.

Now, the decree became a burden to the people. A child's play became a curse. Crickets are used as entertainments for the emperor. They were to fight each other. So a good strong cricket became priceless.

In a province, a poor man was given the task of catching a good cricket for the emperor. He looked high and low, and all the good crickets were caught and hoarded by the gangs in the city. He could not find any.

As the deadline approaches, he became desperate. It was one thing to not catching a cricket, but it was quite another matter to defy an emperor's decree. He could be beheaded.

So he took the last bit of money from his house and went to a temple to ask an Oracle. The Oracle gave him a painting, nothing more.

He looked at the painting. It was showing a deserted backyard at midnight. With the moon high above the sky, and a cricket hid in the grass. But there was no words, no hints, nothing but a painting.

He looked at it for two days, without any luck. He asked all around, and nobody could see the meaning of the painting.

Then on the third day, as he was getting sick, his son came into the room. He was a boy of 10 years old. He saw the painting and said, "Daddy, isn't it the backyard of the temple?"

The man jumped from the bed and ran out.

He ran to the temple, and it was just around midnight. He went to the back, and sure enough, the scene was just like the painting. Just then, the moon was high in the sky, and he heard the singing of the cricket.

His heart leapt. He carefully parted the grass and saw the most beautiful cricket in his life. He said a prayer of thanks and reached for the cricket.

The cricket jumped away. The man ran after it, not caring all the debris that was hurting his hands and knees.

Finally, after a chase, he caught the cricket. He put it in a bamboo tube, and went home.

The whole family was in celebration. Both his wife and his son begged him to see the cricket, but he was tired. He put it on the shelf and went to bed.

Soon after, the cricket began to sing in the tube. That woke up the boy. He was too curious to sleep. So he went to his parents' room to find the bamboo tube.

He carefully took it off the shelf, and slowly opened the end. He just wanted to see it.

But of course, as you guessed, the cricket jumped out. The boy panicked. He grabbed at the cricket, and luckily he caught it.

However, unluckily, he used too much force, and he crashed the cricket in his hand.

He woke up the parents and showed them what he did. Both of them started to cry. That meant the end of the father.

The son got scared, and he ran away.

The parents was so busy with their sorrow, they did not notice that until the next day. As the boy did not return for lunch, they got worried. They searched for him high and low, and finally they found him.

They found him in a well. He was so frightened and he felt so guilty that he jumped into a well and was drowned.

Now the parents' anger turned into sorrow and regret. They cried and prayed, and they were ready to end their own lives when the mother noticed that the boy was still breathing shallowly.

They put him into the bed and watched over him all day.

By night, the father was too tired to continue. As he walked out of the room, he heard the singing of a cricket. For a moment he thought his cricket was not dead because the sound was so familiar. But as he parted the grass to look, he found a little cricket. It was thin, small, dark and ugly.

He signed, and he was ready to leave when the cricket jumped onto his sleave. The father thought that a small cricket is better than the alternative, so he put it into the bamboo tube.

The next day, a visitor came. He was a member of the local gang. He had caught a bunch of crickets, and he was hoarding them for a better price. He heard that the father caught a good one, so he came to challenge the man.

The father was going to refuse, but he thought that his little cricket was useless to the task, he might as well get a fight out of it.

So he agreed. They went to the gang member's home to fight it out. When they saw the little cricket, all the people laughed. Then the other guy put out his own cricket. It was a beast!

They teased the big beast with a little straw, and it began to sing and huff and puff. But when they tease the little cricket, it was motionless. The people laughed even more. The father was impatient, so he poked his cricket a little bit.

Suddenly, the little cricket charged the big one, and jumped at it. He started to bite and to chew. The big one did not even realize what was going on when the little one bit off its leg and became the victor.

All the people was stunned. The gang member was shocked and angry. He got out of the crowd, and when nobody was noticing, he threw a rooster towards the father. All the people gasped as the rooster eyed the little cricket and pecked at it.

They all thought the little cricket was a goner. The father even closed his eyes. But the cricket jumped onto the rooster's crown and bit down hard. The rooster plucked and screamed, ran around in pain.

Finally, the people caught the rooster and pulled the cricket away from the hapless rooster.

The father was happy. When he got home, he got even more happier. His son woke up. But the boy was maim. He did not say a word, and he did not even recognize his parents. He just ate and slept, as if his brain was dead.

Father turned in the cricket to the local governor. When the governor saw the little cricket, he almost ordered the father's execution on the spot.

"What kind of fool do you take me for?" he said, "How dare you to turn in such a little sickly cricket!"

The father begged for an explanation, and he told the governor of all the extraordinary the little cricket did. The governor decided to test it out.

Sure enough, the little cricket not only beat all the other crickets, but it beat a rooster as well.

The governor was delighted. He sent the cricket to the emperor immediately. And when the emperor tested the cricket, he was more than delighted. He rewarded the father handsomely.

But the father was not happy. Even though he had money now, and he was forgiven the chore of catching more cricket, but his beloved son was still brain dead.

Then two years had passed, one day, suddenly, the boy, as if awoke from a long sleep, called out to his parents. The parents were overwhelmed. They rushed to his bed, and the son was alive and whole again.

He told his parents that he dreamt that he was a little cricket. And for two years, he was the emperor's favorite, until he woke up here in bed.

Kind of weird and interesting, huh?

June 4, 2006 at 12:03am
June 4, 2006 at 12:03am
#430755
I just learned a new word Thursday. "Orthopaedics"

Orthopaedics is the medical specialty devoted to the diagnosis, treatment, rehabilitation and prevention of injuries and diseases of your body's musculoskeletal system. This complex system includes your bones, joints, ligaments, tendons, muscles and nerves and allows you to move, work and be active.

I took my daughter to see an Pediatric Orthopaedic doctor on Thursday. She has a genetic condition that at both ends of her arm and leg bones there are bone spurs. According to the doctor, that was a pretty common condition. My wife has it, and she is just fine.

But my daughter has a problem on her left forearm. One of the two bones on her arm had stopped growing, or at least grew at a slower pace than the other bone. There was a gap between her hand and her shorter bone. As a result, the long bone grew bent.

It was such a shock for me to see the condition on the X-ray.

The resident who looked at the X-ray could not form an opinion on his own, and we had to wait for his boss, the real doctor to show up. That was the longest 15 minutes of my life!

The real doctor, Dr. Rab was a very nice doctor. He explained the condition and mentioned that there was a way to correct the condition. That will involve to cut off the head of the short bone that was not growing properly, and to take out a piece of her leg bone to connect to the end of the short bone.

But the problem is that the new bone will still be growing at a different rate from her other arm bone. So if we had done it now, they might need to repeat the procedure a few years later.

The good news was that her hand's function had not been affected by the deformity, so the doctor recommended us to wait, as long as possible, until she has fully grown. Then she might just need to have the procedure done only once.

I was so relieved that she did not need to have a surgery at the time.

But now, the reality sank in. My 6 year old daughter has a deformity in her arm. Her left arm will be forever shorter than her right arm. The weight of the realization was like a huge rock in my chest.

I remember the night she was born. I was with my wife, and the nurse took the baby to the nurse station because the incubation room was closed. I went out there every 5 minutes to see my baby girl. I was afraid she would be cold, hungry, wet or lonely. Every cry was like hers. So finally I moved her crib in with my wife. I looked at her the whole night, and I fed her the first bottle of formula.

I only wanted her to be happy. I did not care if she would be successful or famous, or well off. I just hoped and prayed that she would be health and happy, all through her life.

That was my only wish.

That wish, that hope shattered.

My daughter is a very nice and soft person. She has the typical happy-go-lucky mild temperament. When she was 3 years old and she went to a very good day-care center in the area. She got bit by a boy 12 inches shorter than her, multiple times within a month.

We argued with the director of the day-care center. Seeing nothing was being done, we finally pulled her out and put her in a different center.

In those days, I was so concerned about her, I went to the center during my lunch break and watched her playing in the yard. Usually she was alone. But she was not that concerned. She wrapped herself of a world of her own, and she walked to her own beat and tune.

I wanted for her to be like that forever.

But in my heart, I know that will not be so. She will grow up, she will taste the bitter taste of reality. She will know she is different. She will know she is unique. She will find her own path, and she will alone on that path. If she is lucky, she will find someone to share that path, and she will have a family, and her children will branch out from her path.

I just wished with my whole heart that day will come later, much later, when she is ready, when she is more than ready.

In a country where Asians were the minority of the minority, she had felt the stings of the outside world. She asked me once whether she was an American. I said, "Of course, dear. You were born here. Both your Mom and Dad are Americans." She said other kids said she was not, she was Chinese.

"You are both," I said, "You are a Chinese American."

But I am sure, that will just be the beginning. That is one of the reasons my wife and I take her to China every year. She is to see the other part of her heritage, to see people with the same skin color as her, to speak the same tongue as her grandparents.

Now, in one of these days in the future, I will have to explain to her why her left arm is so much different from the others!

I pray that I will find a country full of people with a shorter left arm before then.
May 30, 2006 at 1:59am
May 30, 2006 at 1:59am
#429431
What do you get when you combine "Da Vinci Code" and "Brokeback Mountain"?

I get Teletubby. The little weird plump babies with little antenna on their heads, who could not say a complete senetence. And that little weird sun with a cooing baby face in the middle.

The whole thing just gives me the creeps!

Conspiracy! Secret Society! I can smell them! I don't care if it is the Priory of Sion of the Illuminati, but ...

Oops! Lost my train of thought for a moment there! Weird.

Huh! Where am I? When is it now? How did I black out? Why did I have little gray aliens stuck in my head? And why can't I stop typing?

Where am I? OH, as I was saying, The Teletubby are so cute and lovely ...
There is no conspircy.
I love them so much ...
There is no secret society.

*Bigsmile*
Just to prove I am not crazy, here is the train of thought.

I was drinking beer and reading the response to my "Brokeback Mountain" comments, and I was watching History Channel on TV. (Yeah, I know. I can multitask like a fox in a henhouse.*Rolleyes*)

Then suddenly I heard about the guy in TV is talking about the "V" shape in "Last Supper" is the symbol of femininity.

I said Wow that guy can really reach. Just like the other guy said the teletubby with the triangle on his head is gay, just like who will think that you can have a movie about gay cowboys.

See. It is as logical as 1+1 = 2. *Pthb*

Anyway, for all those who wanted to see a picture of me in that trade show. I finally decided to shut all of you up by posting a picture here.

Before you click on the item. Please remember, I am quite sensitive about my looks. So please, please, do not comment about my looks. Now, also, I was in the show for quite a while, and my color was off.

Anyway, there is the "Invalid Item.

By the way, do I look fat in that picture?
I await your judgement.
*Confused*
May 26, 2006 at 11:05pm
May 26, 2006 at 11:05pm
#428704
OK, just got back from the trade show. I have been up 19 hours straight. So I will make this one short.

Went there, and I proudly defy the order by no hats nor boots. So for those of you want a pic, here is one *Pthb*

So, after the first day among the white cowboy hats, the rest of my colleagues wore, at dinner time, I was stopped by two very nice ladies.

"Wow! You guys are the talk of the show." They started with a very nice smile.

"Oh, yeah," I was proud and happy, "We are? What are they saying about us?" I naively added.

"Did you guys watch 'Brokenback Mountain'?" They giggled so hard, I think (and hope) they are going to melt into puddles. *Confused*

I have been giving my fellow guys a lot of room for the rest of the show!
May 22, 2006 at 11:58pm
May 22, 2006 at 11:58pm
#427669
I am dedicating this entry of my blog to the following phrase:
"Whip cream on toad."
(OK, for the 18+ readers please substitute the "oa" with "ur" to have a more dramatic affect)

Hugh! The phase has been stuck in my head for the whole day, and now let's see if by writing it out, I can forget about it.

The whole story started when I am going to do a trade show with my boss, and my boss's boss, and my boss's boss's partners.

They liked to do a theme for the show every year. Basically, it summons up to be the whole bunch of guys will dress up in very colorful T-shirts to attract customers. In truth, I think it is all about the office manager (Who was a girl with wonderful sense of humor) wanted to see how hilarious we will be when we dressed up like peacock and flamingos.

The case in point, this time, we will be wearing Pink, Tangerine and Red shirts for the three days.

OK. In my wardrobe, if there is anything red or pink, it is usually blood! It is not even going to wine stain! Because I am not going to wear anything with the color hue outside of the cold color zone! The blood stained shirt was either a badge of honor to prove my bravery, or more likely a smelly reminder of my stupidity.

On top of everything else, we are supposed to wear cowboy hats and boots to stand in a trade show that will last 12 hours everyday!

I am REALLY looking forward to next year now. Maybe they will have a "Flintstone" theme. I will be "Bam Bam" with a big stick! And I am going to test that stick by cracking open some heads!

When I called up my wife to inform her of my new set of outfits, she just said, "Bring back some pictures. Maybe you will look good in them."

That is when the wonderfully crude "Whip cream on t..d" expression first popped up in my head.

I don't like to dress up. Not for anyone, not for anything. Going to church, weddings, funerals, OK, I will wear suit and tie, but that is it. A person should shine from within, with his knowledge, his wisdom, his humor and his soul. Then, only then, he can dress up, and not being a hypocrite. But chances are, he will not be interested in the wardrobe anymore.

Look at Gandhi. He started of as a impeccably dressed English lawyer, and by the end of his life, he was like an old Indian peasant. And yet, who will deny the ascension of his soul?

So, let's see "Whip cream on toad." That is what I will be tomorrow. However, after length debating, the pink shirt along with the cowboy boots and hats are out!

Thank God! Let me tell you, out of 2 billion Asians, only Jackie Chen can look OK in cowboy hats. And that pair of boots just reminds me of high heels.

To all the cowboys out there owns a pair of boots, please tell me if it is the boots or the jeans make you walking like a barrel stuck between your legs?

*Laugh*
Whip cream on toad, my friends, maybe I will change my handle to this phase.

Maybe not.

May 17, 2006 at 11:55pm
May 17, 2006 at 11:55pm
#426603
Does anyone remember the years before Internet or cell phones?

My wife went back to China to visit her family, and she found out that her Cingular Wireless cell phone actually works there. It was not so just a year ago. She can call any local number just as a local cell phone, and I can call her cell phone just by dial the number here in the U.S.

Wow!

So I am back to my question, does anyone remember the years before Internet or cell phones? I sure don't anymore.

It finally happened! There is no escape! When you cannot escape your life when you go to China, you are hooked and linked everywhere!

Hopefully my boss does not know that yet. I am scheduled to join my wife and kids next month, and I really really do not want to get a phone call on the top of the Great Wall and was told that they had a problem with the code I wrote for our most important client.

Then I will be obliged to go to the nearest computer café, which is probably just by the parking lot, receive a couple of e-mails I can get through my hotmail account, and spend the next several hours, instead of admiring the ancient technology marvel, cursing the latest technology advance.

Oh boy! I need to set my vacation destination further out. Anyone has any good ideas? How about North Pole? A bit cold. And Santa probably has a DSL connection. How else can he get all those e-mails from kids? How about Iraq? As long as I stay away from the green zone, I will be fine. *Rolleyes* I can always get a AK-47 and shoot out the nearest cell phone tower. *Confused*

And how many people around the world are watching the NBA Dallas vs. San Antonio game? When I am finished here, I can check out the blogs online discussing the game, in both English and Chinese.

The earth is getting crowded here. No wonder those big shots with tons of money are trying to check the flight to moon.

Of course, I can always get a beer and shut off the cell phone. *Bigsmile*
Cheers!

May 15, 2006 at 2:12pm
May 15, 2006 at 2:12pm
#426087
Wife is out of the town! Yeah, party at my place, beer for everyone.

Ok, the excitement is over. I am a very dull guy, so that only lasted for about 5 minutes and I am stuck with the reality of the thing.

My wife has been taking care of me and all the kids since forever, so now, I am left to fend for myself.

And the worse thing is that she left our 6 years old daughter in my charge.

*Sick* *Cry* So cold! So lonely! So do not know what to do!

If anyone has a magic formula to shut up a 6 years old girl, please give it here!

My usual weapon of "Ask your mother." is out of commission for now. And I cannot lay a guilt trip on her when she gets back because she took the energizer bunny reincarnated 1 and 1/2 years old boy with her.

So I am standing between the Rock and the Abyss. And I definitely have a fear of heights, or the rock, or myself.

Took the girl to the mall on Saturday. Got her some books. Cost $40.
Took the girl to see a movie on Sunday. Cost $40.
Taking care of the girl for one weekend. Cost 10 years of my life!

The worst thing of this experience so far, is not the wasted Happy Meal she only ate a bite and went to play the little worthless toy; nor the wasted popcorn, she only ate two handful and declared them to be too greasy (She asked for the exact butter in the first place); nor the wasted movie "Ice Age the Melt Down" she only saw about less than half because she was scared of the rumbling of the ice, or the pre-historical alligators in the water, or the loud suspenseful music.

The worst part of the whole ordeal is I have to bind her hair into two little piggy tails!

The horror! The humiliation!
The first try brought on two pimple like dots!
The second try was like I am disguising her as a witch without warts.
The third try was a success except the two little piggy tails are not level. As a matter of fact, one was pointing down and the other was pointing up.

I had to tell her it was the newest style and asked her not to walk near me for the rest of the day. (Just a fun game for her of course.)

WHY? WHY ME? WHY HER? WHY? WHY? WHY?
OK, OK, deep breath, deep breath, wax on, wax off ...
I need to save my strength. It is not over yet. I need to endure the next 4 weeks of this. So I'd better save some of the rants for later.

WHY? WHY? WHY?
STELLA!

I don't know who that was. But I am scheduled to take her to see the "Over the Hedge" next weekend, and I saw the trailer yesterday.
May 13, 2006 at 5:54pm
May 13, 2006 at 5:54pm
#425696
I just got back from the book store. Got a bunch of books for my 6 years old daughter.

Now she is sitting on her bed, examing in detail all the books with utter concentration.

I think she got my passion for books. I hope so.

At the same time, I am watching a movie called "The Ninth Gate", with Johnny Depp. It is a weird movie about the devil leaving clues for someone to find him/her. And I do not care for Johnny Depp that much.

But I like the movie, only because it is a movie about books.

A true book lover would care his books like he cares for his children. One of the minor character in the movie is a book collector, but it is so much fun to see him comparing two books of the same edition with extreme delight.

"Aww, two books, brothers, united after 300 years of separation," he said, "Look here, on this page, the slight imperfection, yes, it is the same here. They are from the same edition, same print. If not for the slight discoloration on your book here, I can not tell them apart."

"I care for them," he proudly exclaimed, "I keep them away from dust, air, light, moisture and mice. I air them every day."

Then of course, he got killed. And to show his cool, Johnny lit a smoke while he examined the two books.

I winced at his action. Death to the idiot! *Cry*

"It is a delight, " one not so famous Chinese author once said, "to have a new book in a winter's night, while you are in bed. The fresh smell of ink filled your bed ...."

I could not remember his name or his exact words, but the picture, the scent remained.

In the book store, a quote said, "If I have some money, I will buy books, and if I have any left, then I will buy food."

I know exactly how he felt. The store is such haven, that as if time itself stopped outside of it.

In it, as I was browsing, I could feel no weary, no pain, no hunger, just the books.

Amazon.com can not replace that, never could replace that. Books bought online just did not have the same feel to it.

If only they have a books section in the Macy's, then I will happily go there with my wife. *Bigsmile*

I once had a dream that one day, in the distant future, when I retire, I will open a little book store. Not for money, just so that I can smell them day in and day out.

Then of course, the movie "You've got mail" came out, and my dream was in the gutter.

Thank you Tom Hanks! Why can't you just make a sequel to "Saving Private Ryan" or something. Oh, that is right. He got killed in that.

Well, We'd always love another "Forrest Gump", don't we? My dear Forrest will not likely open a book store now, won't he?

As I am writing this, I am feeling old. One of these days, the books can only be found in a antique shop, curious item for all to see. Just like oil lamps and steam engines.

Maybe that will be my retirement. An antique shop filled with books!

Savor them while you can.
May 11, 2006 at 7:16pm
May 11, 2006 at 7:16pm
#425293
I was doing some chores the other day, when a beige round ball came into the corner of my eyes.

I turned slightly and found that it was the bobbing head of my 1 and 1/2 years old son.

He walked over, without a glance at me and opened a drawer.

It was filled with all kinds of odd things. Take out menus from restaurants we never visited. A couple of keys that would not open any doors. Leftover bolts from the book shelf I assembled. (Hey, as long as it stands ... I consider the job is done! Do I look like an engineer? Wait, I am an engineer. Do I look like a technician?)

Anyway, he opened the drawer, and rumbled through the stuff expertly. He found a broken ballpoint pen, and he made invisible lines on the menus. He twisted the washer on the bolt, and tirelessly stuffed the paper through a plastic cup, and took them out again.

Obviously, this was not his first investigation of the drawer, because he knew exactly where things were, and he played with the eagerness only a little kid could muster.

After watching him for a few minutes, my mind started to wonder. (If you saw the kid repeat a single motion again and again, your mind would wonder too!)

I remembered when I was a kid. Whenever I went to visit my grandma's house, I would stop at my uncle's room.

He was a Physics teacher at a local high school, and he was the smartest person I knew. He could fix stuff. From radios to TVs.

I could hole up in his little room, watch him working on a broken TV for hours.

He had a drawer designated for me also. It was full of weird stuff. A bar of solder, a little cup of flux in wax form. Some vacuum tubes, a lot of nuts and bolts, and my favorite, a real magnet.

It was actually just a half piece from one of the TV tube, but it was magically. Not only you could suck up half of the drawer onto this but you could run it through the top of a TV and made the figures on the screen went wiggly.

Very cool indeed. And he could make the most amazing noodles. A little bit of black vinegar, a little bit of soy source, a little bit of sesame oil, a little bit of Worcestershire Sauce. Boy that was heaven.

Anyway. Time flies. Really! He used to carry me around on his shoulders, and now, my daughter was too heavy and too grown up to be carried my shoulders, and my son had taken over the riding spot.



May 8, 2006 at 11:55pm
May 8, 2006 at 11:55pm
#424608
After commenting on a nice lady's blog, I started to think about meditation.

Mind is like a computer. We are the users, but we are also the programmers except, usually we don't know it.

With the modern operating system like Windows XP and such, I can describe exactly what I mean.

We only use a very small portion of our mind. Our arms, legs, eyes, ears are controlled by us. They are like the word processor, the spreadsheet, the internet explorer, etc. They are very complicated, and it usually takes us the entire childhood to control them.

Some of the features, since we have not used for a long time, like a few generations, we do not know how to do anymore. Like wiggling our ears. Go a head, try it. Some of us can do it, some of us can't do it. The other thing will be arch an eyebrow. I tried to teach my daughter when she was very young, and every time she could only raise both of her eyebrows. I can only arch my right eyebrow and some people can do their left eyebrow, or both side individually.

We don't control the more lower level stuff. We don't control our heart rate, we don't control our temperature control, and we certainly do not control our sleep or our dreams. These are like low level programs that only a programmer can touch.

Normally, that will suit us just fine. But what happens when you have a high blood pressure? What happens when you have a depression? What happens if you have insomnia? What happens if you have a bipolar disorder?

Modern medicine cannot fix these. They try to regulate, neutralize, slow down, contain these disease, but that is not the most efficient way to do it.

It is like when your computer has a virus, you just replace the hard drive. It will work, to a degree, but it is not the best way. Besides, we cannot manufacture a heart like we do a hard drive.

But there is still hope for us yet. Meditation is our key. With meditation, it is like suddenly, you have access to your lower level programming. You can control your emotion, you can control your heart rate, and you can control your sleep, and most important of all you can control your weight.

You can still do all that if you believe you can do it, and you can reach a deep level of trance.

There are tons of techniques out there, ranging from the full lotus position sitting to the elastic Yoga exercises. The goal is the same. You have to reach your sub-conscious by bypassing your conscious. It is a trick feeling. Every waking moment is controlled by our conscious, and most of our dreams are actually a manifest of our conscious did not want to let go.

Only through these exercises, basically, your conscious is so tired that it did not want to play anymore, then while your mind is still active, it switched off.

Think of it as an overload of your conscious, then, only then your sub-conscious can take control and regulate itself.

I am just watching the TV program "David Blaine: Drowned Alive". In it, David Blaine will attempt to hold breath longer than world record. I am not interested in stunts like this, but if I am to guess, he will try to keep a trance just like I described above to slow down himself, sort of like a hibernation of bears.

Ancient Indian Gurus had tried stuns like this before. Including dropped into a sea or buried alive for some time. It is a challenge against one's self, to reach a level of self-control, and from that a level of enlightenment.

To understand the world, a good beginning place will be self.


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