wayne-dyer

If you didn__ fall down, you would never have learned how to pick yourself up.

Like Salvador Dali__ paintings of watches melting in the sand, time wanders at its own curious pace whenever you__e on vacation in a foreign country.

Find a way to learn something from every disappointment.

If there__ a takeaway from working here, it__ an understand that, as bioorganisms, we are a walking time bomb programed for cellular self-destruction. Not if, when.

Barely halfway back, exhaustion sets in. What if I don__ make it? An edge of panic gets intercepted by a calmer inner voice: Look behind you.

Flip a coin. Life or death. Heads or tails. You never know.

Lucid dreams often feel like this__s if you are observing yourself from a point over your shoulders-arm flexed, hands curving around the boom, breathing, in three dimensional silence.

Inside, my spirit is sparkling like foam on the crest of a wave at high tide under a full moon.

Out here on the water, it__ a fine line between feeling in control and losing it altogether.

Instead of falling, I am dancing with the wind.

Soul-to-soul contact sweeps through, like a tsunami, leaving in its wake just this: unconditional surrender and overwhelming gentleness.

There are two kinds of special events: planned and unplanned.

Swirling around my ears, the wind and I whooping at the sea, picking up speed, breathing it all in. An act of loving life.

Producing obituaries is a way of creating a legacy to remember important people of our times and their contributions. No matter whose obituary it is, I look for something inspirational about each person.

Of all the things I wish for her, above all, I want her to know and love the sea.