balance

I just keep losing. I mean, some people just...are supposed to lose? For balance in the universe? I mean, like, are there just some people on earth who...are supposed to be here just to make it easier for the winners?

In trying to commit my life to finding and participating in some of the purposes of Christ, as I can determine them, my energies and abilities are gradually being focused and are working together.

not every breakfast needs to be something worthy of posting to a food blog. Sometimes food is simply fuel, something we eat to live. But with TV ads and billboards and in-store displays saying otherwise__n colorful and provocative ways__hat can be a hard case to make.

We look up to see if it is day or night. If stars burn cool and moon does shine, we take to smoke divine and wine. If breath of sun does belch its heat, we boil coffee and prepare to eat.

We look up to see if it is day or night. If stars burn cool and moon does shine, We take to smoke divine and wine.If breath of sun does belch its heat,we boil coffee and prepare to eat.

Find the right balance in life. Man is body... mind... spirit. Give the right amount of attention to each.

And we remember that there must be a balance. No birth without death. No life without tears. What is taken from the world must be given back, and from him who takes and does not give back, who would tip the balance of the river, from him all will be taken. No one should live forever, but should give his blood to the river when the time comes so that tomorrow another may live. And so it goes.

Health and happiness are the two most precious and elusive of human conditions. At their core, they are one and the same. Both are a function of balance.

Account of Love gave me several results, and its amazing:a. When man doesn__ make time to talk to woman, woman feels man is not caring her.b. When woman doesn__ make time to talk to man, man need to understand her problem.c. When man makes mistake he had to give clarifications by speaking truth or even lying. d. When woman makes mistake mad had to accept all excuses given by woman.e. When man suffers, most of the time he had to accept whatever happens.f. When woman suffers, man had to make woman happy by doing anything possibleg. When love ends man need to hide all the tears as he feels he is strong.h. When love ends woman uses tears to blame the man for all the mistakes.

He drew from under the table a sheet of strangely scented yellow-Chinese paper, the brushes, and slab of India ink. In cleanest, severest outline he had traced the Great Wheel with its six spokes, whose centre is the conjoined Hog, Snake, and Dove (Ignorance, Anger, and Lust), and whose compartments are all the heavens and hells, and all the chances of human life.

Yesterday it was sun outside. The sky was blue and people were lying under blooming cherry trees in the park. It was Friday, so records were released, that people have been working on for years. Friends around me find success and level up, do fancy photo shoots and get featured on big, white, movie screens. There were parties and lovers, hand in hand, laughing perfectly loud,but I walked numbly through the park, round and round, 40 times for 4 hoursjust wanting to make it through the day.There's a weight that inhabits my chest some times. Like a lock in my throat, making it hard to breathe. A little less air got throughand the sky was so blue I couldn__ look at it because it made me sad, swelling tears in my eyes and they dripped quietly on the floor as I got on with my day. I tried to keep my focus, ticked off the to-do list, did my chores. Packed orders, wrote emails, paid bills and rewrote stories,but the panic kept growing, exploding in my chest. Tears falling on the desktick tick tickme not making a soundand some days I just don't know what to do. Where to go or who to see and I try to be gentle, soft and kind,but anxiety eats you up and I just want to be fine.This is not beautiful. This is not useful. You can not do anything with it and it tries to control you, throw you off your balance and lovely waysbut you can not let it.I cleaned up. Took myself for a walk. Tried to keep my eyes on the sky. Stayed away from the alcohol, stayed away from the destructive tools we learn to use. the smoking and the starving, the running, the madness,thinking it will help but it only feeds the fireand I don't want to hurt myself anymore.I made it through and today I woke up, lighter and proud because I'm still here. There are flowers growing outside my window. The coffee is warm, the air is pure. In a few hours I'll be on a train on my way to sing for people who invited me to come, to sing, for them. My own songs, that I created. Me__ittle me. From nowhere at all. And I have people around that I like and can laugh with, and it's spring again. It will always be spring again.And there will always be a new day.

We can't control on how each day will fall, but we can control how we fall into each day. Learn to make adjustments to match the circumstances.

The rough must always accompany the smooth. Without one or the other one learns nothing about oneself.

I__ like to share with you a parable: the parable of Bob the Angel.A girl was walking down a darkly lit city street late at night. A man jumped out from the shadows and attacked her, suddenly she was suffocating and disoriented as hands clasped around her neck and the force of his attack started to push her down. She tried to yell as she struggled to pull his arms from her neck while she crumpled backwards to the ground, __od . . . help me!_ The next thing she remembers__ust as the fear consumed her, and right as she disappeared into the misery and despair of helplessness__as a loud crash and an explosion of glass which rained down upon her and her attacker. The assailant__ lifeless body was suspended above her, held from collapsing on her by an unknown force, and then pulled away from hovering over her and dropped onto the pavement beside her. She opened her eyes in the faint shadowy light, to see black matted hair and a long, black beard framing the eyes of a man. The smell of alcohol on his breath would have knocked her out if the adrenaline was not still trilling through her veins. There he stood, God__ angel, off-kilter and drunk, with a broken whiskey bottle in his hand. __ou probably shouldn__ be walking through here this late at night,_ was all he said as he turned away.__ait! What__ your name?_ she asked, still stunned half sitting up on the ground.All she heard as he walked away was his trailing voice calling, __ob__ as good as any. . . ._ An angel is a messenger, and sometimes we only want letters sent in white envelopes with beautiful gold print, when sometimes a simple __o_ on the back of a gum wrapper is what we are offered. Every postcard from heaven does not come with a picture of the sunset there, nor should it. If it is an answer we want, an answer we will get. As far as pretty postcards, there are many others willing to send us that. If not harps and gold-tipped wings, what then is the mark of an angel? An answer which pierces your soul, and which inspires a question that invites you to look outside of yourself and up to God.

Fearing the wind that causes the shaking branch directs you to where energy is needed for improving your life.

For every thorn is just as essential to the longevity of the plant as the blossoms.

It's important to achieve balance in sandwiches, because who really knows how to achieve it in life? Life is messy, difficult, occasionally great but mostly upsetting and out of your control. But you can always make a good sandwich, and a good sandwich will make you happy!

The act of speaking our intentions aloud shifts them from wishful thinking into action.