About Anxiety


“Almost 1 in 5 people feel anxious a lot of or all the time”

It is believed that anxiety comes from biological or psychological factors, and also from “ultra-modern-too-many-choices-quickly-changing-world” (word using by Kimberly Lieu).

As I see it, anxiety is a kind of gift for us; perhaps a “warning sign” is a better expression than a “gift”.  Anxiety comes from spirit. Our spirit feels that we make the wrong decisions. We make bad choices because we want to be all too similar to other people, because we want to have the same things, the same interests, the same views, etc. We put a lot of effort into diabolic jugglery rather than devote ourselves to the joy of creation.

“As human beings, we LOVE control and we love to think that we are in control. The problem is, in the grand scheme of life, we aren’t at all. There are certain things we can control and there are certain things we can do to somewhat manage things, but we are really only fooling ourselves when we think we are in control.”
Lena A. Derhally, You’re Not Nervous: Anxiety, Worry and Control in Motherhood

And therefore, by the human limitation of controlling, I believe that anxiety is an indication that we should change our actions. No therapy, no pharmacology, no meditation, and especially – no ignoring anxiety. Just listening to our spirit is the best solution.

About Beauty

“The girl was remarkably beautiful, and that was unmistakable to me and to those who were looking at her as I was.

If one is to describe her appearance feature by feature, as the practice is, the only really lovely thing was her thick wavy fair hair, which hung loose with a black ribbon tied round her head; all the other features were either irregular or very ordinary. Either from a peculiar form of coquettishness, or from short-sightedness, her eyes were screwed up, her nose had an undecided tilt, her mouth was small, her profile was feebly and insipidly drawn, her shoulders were narrow and undeveloped for her age–and yet the girl made the impression of being really beautiful, and looking at her, I was able to feel convinced that the Russian face does not need strict regularity in order to be lovely; what is more, that if instead of her turn-up nose the girl had been given a different one, correct and plastically irreproachable like the Armenian girl’s, I fancy her face would have lost all its charm from the change.

Standing at the window talking, the girl, shrugging at the evening damp, continually looking round at us, at one moment put her arms akimbo, at the next raised her hands to her head to straighten her hair, talked, laughed, while her face at one moment wore an expression of wonder, the next of horror, and I don’t remember a moment when her face and body were at rest. The whole secret and magic of her beauty lay just in these tiny, infinitely elegant movements, in her smile, in the play of her face, in her rapid glances at us, in the combination of the subtle grace of her movements with her youth, her freshness, the purity of her soul that sounded in her laugh and voice, and with the weakness we love so much in children, in birds, in fawns, and in young trees.

It was that butterfly’s beauty so in keeping with waltzing, darting about the garden, laughter and gaiety, and incongruous with serious thought, grief, and repose; and it seemed as though a gust of wind blowing over the platform, or a fall of rain, would be enough to wither the fragile body and scatter the capricious beauty like the pollen of a flower.”

Anton Chekhov, The Beauties


About Pleasant Life


“good news is good news first; how good matters rather little. So to have a pleasant life you should spread these small “affects” across time as evenly as possible. Plenty of mildly good news is preferable to one single lump of great news.”
Nassim Nicholas Taleb, The Black Swan: The Impact of the Highly Improbable