5
" These examples suggest what one needs to learn to control attention. In principle any skill or discipline one can master on one’s own will serve: meditation and prayer if one is so inclined; exercise, aerobics, martial arts for those who prefer concentrating on physical skills. Any specialization or expertise that one finds enjoyable and where one can improve one’s knowledge over time. The important thing, however, is the attitude toward these disciplines. If one prays in order to be holy, or exercises to develop strong pectoral muscles, or learns to be knowledgeable, then a great deal of the benefit is lost. The important thing is to enjoy the activity for its own sake, and to know that what matters is not the result, but the control one is acquiring over one’s attention. "
― Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi , Finding Flow: The Psychology of Engagement with Everyday Life
10
" You cannot mend the chromosome, quell the earthquake, or stanch the flood. You cannot atone for the dead tyrants’ murders and you alone cannot stop living tyrants. As Martin Buber saw it, the world of ordinary days “affords” us that precise association with god that redeems both us and our speck of world. God entrusts and allots to everyone an area to redeem: this creased and feeble life, “the world in which you live, just as it is, and not otherwise.” “Insofar as he cultivates and enjoys them in holiness, he frees their souls…he who prays and sings in holiness, eats and speaks in holiness…through him the sparks which have fallen will be uplifted, and the worlds which have fallen will be delivered and renewed. "
― Annie Dillard , For the Time Being
16
" (From Danielle Raver's short story THE ENCHANTRESS)
Thick chains attached to the wall hold a metal collar and belt, restraining most of the tiger's movements. Open, bloody slashes cover his face and back, but he shows no loss of strength as he pulls on the chains and tries to rip the flesh of the surrounding humans with his deadly claws. Out of his reach, I kneel down before him, and his lightning-blue eyes cross my space for a moment.
“Get her out of there!” I hear from behind me.
“Numnerai,” I speak urgently to the tiger. “They will kill you!”
He growls and gnashes his teeth, but I sense he is responding to me.
“Great white tiger, your duty is to protect the prince. But how can you do that if they sink the end of a spear into your heart?” He looks at me for a longer moment. The fighters respond to this by growing still. In their desperation, they are overlooking my foolishness for a chance to save their fellows' lives. I crouch on my feet and begin to nudge closer to him. The tiger growls a warning, but does not slash out at me. “Think of the prince, protector of the palace. Right now he prays for you to live. "
― D.M. Raver , The Story Tellers' Anthology
19
" From my new WIP, Behind the Fan.
“Come with me.” His breath is warm; his lips lightly touch her ear, it gives her a delicious tingle. This seduction is no accident.
“Baby we can be anywhere, we will start new. Dottie, all I need is you.”
She opens her eyes, he turns when he feels the flutter of her lashes. She expects another plea instead; he kisses her. Soft and slow his lips pulling her down deeper into a sweet chasm. This assault on her proprieties will be slow and subdued. He has after all proven that he is a patient man. Those musicians’ finger will trail on the column of her neck first. The touch is warm, soft nevertheless deliberate. Do the top buttons of her blouse come undone on their own accord or has he banished them? She is never sure but before she can register the affect, he lightly strokes the swell of her breast. It is sinful; no matter how often she confesses her weakness to the priest, she is never stronger. Her body willingly betrays her; she will roam her hands down his back, beyond the tapered waist to the hard orbs of his backside. She herself is no innocent, she revels in his plead for more. She is going to hell she wished she cared for her soul.
“Honey leap with me, we will land safely I promise you.”
“Oh God, Nicky you know it is never this simple.”
Nick leans back enough to look into her eyes; she feels he can see damn near to her soul. She prays he will stay but knows her appeal is futile. He feels colder already, it does not matter how she tries to hold on he is already leaving. Leaving her behind. "
― Caroline Walken