20 Interesting Facts About Love | Bored Panda

Some extraordinary research has found that couples who are in love and bond in a romantic relationship synchronize their heart rates after gazing into each others’ eyes for three minutes.

When Two Lovers Gaze At Each Others’ Eyes, Their Heart Rates Synchronize

 

Love is pure, love is painful, love is sweet and love is dreadful. True love is overwhelming. Our lives depend on it and it often seems like our planet would stop spinning if love didn’t exist. Love is something we strive for and something we mourn the loss of.

A lovesick panda once said that “if you’re never been hurt, you’re either very lucky, or very lonely.”

We understand the poetry of the heart, but over the courses of our lives we tend to demystify this precious feeling more and more. We learn about biological processes that cause specific reactions; we learn about cultural influences on how we behave and think about love; we learn about the psychological and physiological processes that make us fall for someone.

And as soon as we think there’s no more place for romance in a world explained by science, we fall in love, or simply look into the eyes of our beloved, and all of that knowledge is pushed to the back of our minds. In the end, the feeling itself is what matters most.

Let us present you with 21 interesting facts and theories about love that will explain much about this all-absorbing phenomenon without dispelling its romance and poetry.

If you want to make a good impression on someone, you’ve only got about 4 minutes to do it. It is believed that it has far more to do with your body language, tone and speed of your voice rather than exactly what you say.

It only takes up to 4 minutes to decide whether you like someone or not

For the rest of the article follow the link below.

via 20 Interesting Facts About Love | Bored Panda.

 

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Valentine’s Day Facts

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Via: History.com

Looking for Love

141 million Valentine’s Day cards are exchanged annually, making Valentine’s Day the second-most popular greeting-card-giving occasion. (This total excludes packaged kids valentines for classroom exchanges.) (Source: Hallmark research)

Over 50 percent of all Valentine’s Day cards are purchased in the six days prior to the observance, making Valentine’s Day a procrastinator’s delight. (Source: Hallmark research)

Research reveals that more than half of the U.S. population celebrates Valentine’s Day by purchasing a greeting card. (Source: Hallmark research) Read more

How to Eat an Elephant

via: Pick the Brain

Image courtesy of Exfordy

How do you eat an elephant?

One bite at a time. We all know the saying, but we often fail to apply this lesson in our lives. If you view the elephant as one giant goal that your whole life depends on, you’re setting yourself up for disappointment. Why not enjoy the bites along the way? Read more

Born different…

By: Dennis Lowery

 

She had been born different.

Not like the others.

As she blossomed they became afraid of her—she would frighten the other saplings, they nattered to each other—she would disturb the structured order of their hard-grained, unclaimed, ignorance. Her difference was too much for them to comprehend. And lack of comprehension breeds fear and suffocates compassion. Read more

New Moon on New Years Day 2014

via New Moon on New Years Day 2014 | Boston Holistic Psychiatrist & Psychoanalyst.

On New Years Day 2014 there will be a New Moon. New Moons are always a time of new beginnings, of fresh energy, a time of focusing our attention and intentions. The New Year symbolically also shares the same connotation. So this is something worth noticing, because it does not happen frequently, a New Moon on New Years Day. Our felt experience of the energy created by the configuration of the planets on January 1st will set the tone for the rest of 2014. Read more

Ethan

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Reporting for Duty, Sir

May 20, 2013

With the permission of his family, I report, with much sadness, that another young veteran whom I have had the honor to serve died this past week. The cause of his death remains unclear, but all agree that it was not self-inflicted, and it does appear that he died suddenly and without suffering.

Ethan (not his real name) first came to my office a couple years ago. He was not in good shape. He had suffered a significant traumatic brain injury (TBI) from an IED (improvised explosive device) explosion while having served in the Middle East, and he had subsequently become hooked on opiates (painkillers). When I first met him, he was gaunt of body and of gaze. He had the distractibility that I have often seen in veterans who are struggling with the consequences of TBI, but his had a desperate edge to it, an irritation that appeared to be heading nowhere, targeting no one in particular.

How good it was, then, that he found Suboxone (an opiate-substitution medication) to be so hope-restoring for him. He filled out in body and in soul, and a smile took up permanent residence on the lower half of his much-less-lined face, a puckish one, I guess I’d say. Great word, puckish. Great smile.

He grew up in a semi-rural area south of Indianapolis. He once told me how to get there, and I realized that I had often passed the requisite landmark on Indiana State Road 37 during my many trips through the years down to Indiana University in Bloomington, where I had taught an undergraduate class. In fact, he was still in high school when I first began making that trek. It was a well familiar one to me, in other words, by the time his mother, who lived not far from that landmark, had already begun praying every morning, every night for his safe return home.

He did return home. But he was not whole. He knew it. His family knew it. Everyone knew it.

Ethan was working with two of our finest therapists at the Indianapolis VA when he came to see me, so he never had a need to share with me any of the worst aspects of his combat experiences. He did hint at them, though. I needed no more than that. His experiences of the War—both of what he saw and of what he had to do—haunted him daily.

Yet as time progressed—and even more, as he worked with his therapists—those haunting experiences receded in prominence, leaving in their wake the far-less-easy-to-treat symptoms of his TBI. Day-to-day detail often confused him far more readily than it had before deployment. Often he forgot where he was to be and when he was to be there—appointments, for example. Family did their best to help him keep track of everything, a challenge for them all. How many times did Ethan come into my office, once more apologizing for having forgotten something, sometimes an important something, sometimes not. Read more

Awaken

The Awakening

By Sonny Carroll

 

There comes a time in your life when you finally get it …

When in the midst of all your fears and insanity you stop dead in your tracks and somewhere the voice inside your head cries out “ENOUGH! Enough fighting and crying or struggling to hold on.” And, like a child quieting down after a blind tantrum, your sobs begin to subside, you shudder once or twice, you blink back your tears and through a mantle of wet lashes you begin to look at the world from a new perspective.
This is your awakening.

You realize that it is time to stop hoping and waiting for something, or someone, to change, or for happiness, safety and security to come galloping over the next horizon. You come to terms with the fact that there aren’t always fairytale endings (or beginnings for that matter) and that any guarantee of “happily ever after” must begin with you. Then a sense of serenity is born of acceptance.

So you begin making your way through the “reality of today” rather than holding out for the “promise of tomorrow.” You realize that much of who you are, and the way you navigate through life is, in great part, a result of all the social conditioning you’ve received over the course of a lifetime.

And you begin to sift through all the nonsense you were taught about:-how you should look and how much you should weigh,
– what you should wear and where you should shop,
– where you should live or what type of car your should drive,
– who you should sleep with and how you should behave,
– who you should marry and why you should stay,
– the importance of bearing children or what you owe your family,

Slowly you begin to open up to new worlds and different points of view. And you begin re-assessing and re-defining who you are and what you really believe in. And you begin to discard the doctrines you have outgrown, or should never have practiced to begin with.

You accept the fact that you are not perfect and that not everyone will love, appreciate or approve of who or what you are… and that’s OK… they are entitled to their own views and opinions. And, you come to terms with the fact that you will never be a size 5 or a “perfect 10″…. Or a perfect human being for that matter… and you stop trying to compete with the image inside your head or agonizing over how you compare. And, you take a long look at yourself in the mirror and you make a promise to give yourself the same unconditional love and support you give so freely to others.
Then a sense of confidence is born of self-approval.

And, you stop maneuvering through life merely as a “consumer” hungry for your next fix, a new dress, another pair of shoes or looks of approval and admiration from family, friends or even strangers who pass by. Then you discover that “it is truly in giving that we receive [1] and that the joy and abundance you seek grows out of the giving. And you recognize the importance of “creating” & “contributing” rather than “obtaining” & “accumulating.” Read more

The Old Trunk… – Dennis Lowery

 

“Life was as delicate as the paper held in her hand.”

 

The above is a line from one of my stories and I’ve had people comment they thought it, “Beautiful.” I remember the flashback memory I had when I wrote it and how very true it is. It’s particularly appropriate, I believe, this time of year.

As a teen one of the jobs I had was in an antique store. The owners would buy things from estate sales all over, often in large lots and sometimes wouldn’t know if they had bought “trash” or potentially “treasure” until they received and went through piece by piece. One day, unloading a new batch of things they had brought in, I found an old trunk.

I had personal need of something like that trunk and though old (don’t know how old) it was still sturdy with solid wood, good hinges and even a lock with the key still in it. I asked the store owner if I could buy it or work off the purchase price if they didn’t want to keep it for re-sale. He checked it out and decided it was nothing special. All it had in it was some old scrap newspapers. I think I bought it for $10 and worked an extra three hours or so to pay for it.

I took it home and that evening as I cleaned it up and out… I saw the newspapers were from New Orleans and dated late November 1918. Of course the major news was still about the Armistice and end to World War 1. Wrapped inside a wad of newspaper I found several letters written in French. I took them to my high school French teacher and she translated them (she had a hard time because they were on thin paper, some brittle, and the ink had blotched and faded. They were love letters from a French soldier; the last dated 30 October 1918. On that letter’s envelope someone had written, so hard there were little stabs and tears in the paper, “Il ne reviendra jamais…”

“He’ll never come back.”

When I wrote the line I gave you at the beginning I flashed back to when I held those letters in my hand. Obviously someone had written them out of love… and the slashing comment on the envelope out of bitterness… and in pain. But they couldn’t bear to throw the letters away. Maybe part of them couldn’t give up their love for the man. Though the man was lost they couldn’t leave them and their love behind. Perhaps over the years they took them out and remembered him. Or possibly not… maybe they were something that “was” but no longer “is”… stored in an old trunk.

This time of year lends itself to reflection and the Thanksgiving holiday makes me reflect more than any other. I think about all the things I have stored in my “old trunk.” Like with most people there are many memories. Bits and pieces, large and small, of a life full of experiences, bad and good.

Down deep are: pain and misfortune experienced; opportunities squandered or lost; misplaced love or a sad facsimile because I’d yet to discover true love; anger and its life-eating ways. Those are the dusty, faded, cobwebby things at the bottom I rarely take out. Never to dislodge from their resting place but still part of what made me who I am.

Above that is the good stuff: joyful experiences; things I did right; true love found and a more even-keeled temperament.

And on the very top, the things I take out frequently to cherish that renew me and give me spirit: thoughts of my wife, daughters and appreciation for a life well-built despite all those things at the bottom of the trunk.

I think about those letters I found decades ago in that old trunk; the love, loss and pain they signify. And I think about my life today. There are so many things for which I’m very thankful.

 

via The Old Trunk… – Dennis Lowery.

Rebirth Beach by Dennis Lowery

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The inlet was secluded.

The heavy growth of underbrush and scrub trees, not deterred by saltwater, grew almost to the edge of the water. The packed sand, never trod upon, had been carved by the tide’s fingers. Scooped and scalloped by a myriad of rivulets it revealed a face and upper body.

Image (c) Unknown--Source: Rachel Estella Garcia at G+She opened full obsidian orbs that looked in wonder at the richness of the color of the surface world. A cataract of blues and white above she reached to touch what seemed so deep yet so close.

A flicker of red caught her eyes. What were these… these things dancing over her?  What was this they swam in? It seemed they moved to and fro on some current.

The familiar wetness of the sand still bound most of her body as the wash of waves lapped over it. She breathed deep. The first lungful of air in centuries. Long ago she’d been human. Different, yet human still. But they had not accepted her and had driven her back into the sea.

She began to lift and push herself up — the wet sand cloying and heavy. She wanted to walk this land and see the other wonders and beauty she had long forgotten… and hoped the land humans had learned love and compassion.

VIA: Dennis Lowery.com

 

A Ten-Month-Old’s Letter To Santa

Dear Santa,

     I am a ten-month-old baby and I write because my mother has been sending out my “Christmas List” to people, and her list does not in any way represent the things I really want.  I could give two s#ts about receiving stacking cups. And I know you’re ready to make the joke about ten month-old babies and how all we want is the wrapping paper and the boxes.  Touché, Santa.  Touché.   We do, of course, want those things.  But I have a number of additional things I want very badly. My list is enclosed below.  Have a lovely holiday.   -Ten Month-Old Baby

 This Laptop Cord

I want this laptop cord more than I have ever wanted anything.   Please.  I also want the power strip with the orange on/off button and the white label on the other cord pictured (the one not connected to the laptop).  I would be ok with just a bunch of electrical cords in general, but I would really love these specific ones that are located behind my mother’s desk next to the air-conditioner (whose cord I also want).

*          *          *

 House Keys

I would love a set of house keys.  To eat, obviously.  Only metal house keys will do.  Please do not buy me plastic ones.  I am not an idiot.  I know that plastic house keys are not real keys.

See the rest of the pictures via the link below.  This a  a sweet article.

via A Ten-Month-Old’s Letter To Santa | The Ugly Volvo.

The Wreath

I flipped over the wreath…

I held in my hands to make sure the wire loop was secure but instead of hanging it, I thought about our home. It had plenty of room to raise a family, an office for me, fireplace and nice yard… it was a great. While we had it.

On the back of the wreath was the little tag my wife put on all our keepsakes so she’ll know when we got them. This one read: November 21, 2008. Not long ago but it seemed an eternity.

That was a good year. My job was going well and we bought a house. We had looked forward to that for so long. Dreaming of the day when we wouldn’t be jammed in a small apartment like we’d lived in since our marriage six years before. It had grown tinier with Anna’s birth almost on our first anniversary. We’d pushed to get the purchase closed so we could move in before Thanksgiving and celebrate in the first real home of our own. Diane insisted we stop after the closing to buy the perfect wreath she’d found to go over the fireplace mantle for the holidays. Seeing her so happy and excited made me smile. Read more

“The Roots Reach…”

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Off in the distance a light shone in the castle…

 

while the sun died a red death as twilight fell. The Lord, so much younger than the former Lady of the castle, dined alone. All had discovered his charm was a thin veneer… a scrim to cover a cruel, spoiled, soul that cared only for himself.

The servants knew but were afraid. The Lady did not find out until it was too late. She should have known when he showed contempt for the care she bestowed on her small garden in the interior courtyard.

And one day the Lady died. Fallen from the western battlements, overhanging the water below, the new Lord claimed. “She so dearly loved to walk it at sunset,” he cried. Her body was never found.

Little did the new Lord know, but buried where he believed none would discover her, she had been accepted by the loam… the tissue of the earth just below the surface nourished her dead body. Drawing it into form and substance from the materials at hand. Soon she would do more than reach for the sky with a gnarled limb. Soon she would walk. The castle was not far… and the roots reached… indeed, the roots reached.

[Picture via Eli Zuñiga Mondragon at Google+]

VIA:  Flashfiction by Dennis Lowery

I follow Dennis on Google + and he’s a phenomenal writer. It is with his permission that I bring this to you today. You can follow him on G+ or his blog at the link above.  I hope you enjoyed it as much as I do.  🙂