Live, Love, and Laugh - The Most Profound Self-Help Advice

Wednesday, November 19th, 2008

“Our task must be to free ourselves from this prison [the illusion of space and time] by widening our circle of compassion to embrace all living creatures and the whole of nature in its beauty.” - Albert Einstein

Our Sense of Time
The human brain is the most amazing data-processing system yet discovered. In comparison, the most powerful computers yet built are simpler than the simplest single-celled biological organism.
Digital computers encode signal inputs and outputs as bits (strings of 0s and 1s) and process information by electronic on/off switches that manipulate the bits.

Gratitude is a Key to Health And Happiness

Wednesday, June 18th, 2008

I have a confession: When I go to a bookstore, I like hanging out in the self-help section. I don’t know if it’s because I think I’ll find a book that will solve all my problems, or if seeing all the books on problems I don’t have makes me feel better about myself. But whatever it is, I keep going back.

On recent visits, I’ve noticed a trend: The market has been glutted by books promising the secrets to happiness. That might not seem new (isn’t happiness the point of the entire section?), but these aren’t touchy-feely self-help titles - they’re books by scientific researchers, who claim to offer prescriptions based on rigorous empirical research. It’s all part of the “positive psychology” movement that has spilled out of academic journals and into best-selling books, popular magazine articles, and even school curricula.

A New Approach to Igniting And Sustaining Creativity

Tuesday, May 13th, 2008

Mary squirmed in her chair as she continued, “I just don’t know what is wrong with me. Why can’t I just do it? I feel stressed all the time when I’m not writing. ‘I should be writing’, I say to myself, but I don’t. I think, if I just get the laundry done, then I’ll be free to sit down and write the next chapter. But then I don’t. Maybe I need to exercise first, and I go for a run. I get back home, fully intending to sit down at the computer. But I don’t. And all the while I’m feeling bad and stressed about not writing. What is wrong with me? Maybe I’m just lazy. Or maybe unconsciously I don’t really want to write. Or maybe it just means that I’m not really cut out to be a writer. ‘Writers write’, I tell myself.