I enjoyed it. It's an interesting way of looking at plants.Nope. Good shit?
I enjoyed it. It's an interesting way of looking at plants.Nope. Good shit?
Something that I should have added to that comment was my conclusion that there are indeed a few people whose sole attraction to a danger sport is that is that it is dangerous. They've looking for that thrill, and without it they're bored and quit the sport. People like that are the bane of the rest of us in the sport, because they don't care about minimizing danger, only about getting that thrill. They generally screw up eventually and give the rest of us a bad name. That's why they're pariahs.We used to tell our students: "Hang gliding is dangerous. It will never be completely safe. But you can make it safer by cautious flying, rigorous checks of your equipment, and awareness of the air. " Later on, when I was test-flying prototypes and production gliders, my attitude was always that this particular glider wanted to kill me, and it was my job to figure out when and how that might happen, and take steps to ensure that it wouldn't. I took pride in accomplishing that. That may be another answer to the question.
Reminds me that the ability to read is an amazing everyday miracle.
When I was or am in psychosis, I can not read in any great length. It's one of my first signs that I need to alter my medication. I see the words, and can read them, but there's just too much going on inside the mind for me to continue reading them. The mind jumps around. And if I do manage to read something, it can sometimes be a mind-altered text, meaning that what I read is not real either. The words change to fit into whatever narrative my mind has created for me.A yoga friend of mine told me that her husband had had a mild stroke, the only affect of significance being a sudden inability to read. He can see letters and understands the concepts, but simply cannot make it work. He's currently undergoing some form of speech therapy to cause neuroplasticity to help his brain adopt alternative approaches. Many years ago, as a young teen, I collided with another baseball player, and we hit heads. I ended up with a large bump and nagging headache. That evening I looked at the evening newspaper (we had those back then, look it up younguns) and saw nothing but letters and shapes. I knew words were there, but I couldn't find them. Dad took me to the ER, where I was diagnosed with a minor concussion, sent home and told to take aspirin.
After a couple days my symptoms disappeared, but I've always remembered that uncanny sensation.
Reminds me that the ability to read is an amazing everyday miracle.
After a couple days my symptoms disappeared, but I've always remembered that uncanny sensation.
Reminds me that the ability to read is an amazing everyday miracle.
The ability to read, the ability to filter things.