NB: Notes About Notes

Hominem Quaero, Inventa et Amissa A journey through the mirrors that shape a man The Mirror That Arrived Too Early He did not recognize her at first—not truly. He saw a woman, yes, with her own life, her own rhythms, her own distances. But what he felt was something older, something that stirred beneath the surface of his thoughts like a forgotten language returning to memory. Only later would he understand that she was not simply Her. She was the mirror. Not the mirror of vanity, nor the mirror of desire, but the Jungian mirror—the one that reveals the soul by reflecting what the conscious mind refuses to see. In his twenties and thirties, he had searched for people as if searching for destinations. But this time, he found a reflection instead. And reflections do not behave like destinations. They behave like revelations. The Anima Appears Before the Man Is Ready He had read Jung long ago, but reading is not knowing. The anima, Jung said, is the inner feminine— intuition, emotion, ima...

The Entrepreneur: Not the Inventor, but the One Who Sees What Others Miss For decades, we’ve romanticized the entrepreneur as the lone garage inventor — Hewlett and Packard soldering circuits in a Palo Alto garage, or Jobs and Wozniak hand‑assembling the first Apple boards. But the real face of entrepreneurship is often very different. In many of the most transformative cases, the entrepreneur is not the inventor at all. Henry Ford didn’t invent the automobile. Elon Musk didn’t invent reusable rockets. And Larry Ellison didn’t invent the relational database. Yet each of them reshaped entire industries by recognizing something others overlooked. This leads to a more accurate definition: An entrepreneur isn’t necessarily the person who creates a new technology — it’s the person who understands what that technology makes possible. Sometimes the change is dramatic, like the shift from disposable rockets to reusable ones. Musk realized that reusing rocket engines could slash launch costs, ...

The Lone Engineer: A 1998 Silicon Valley Memory One engineer behind blankets,  a snapshot of HP’s culture at the edge of Silicon Valley’s transformation In 1998, I interviewed at Hewlett‑Packard’s Cupertino campus — the very ground where Apple’s “Mothership” now stands. Back then, it wasn’t a gleaming glass ring but a sprawl of beige buildings, endless parking lots, and the hum of Silicon Valley’s golden age. At 11:00 AM, the hiring manager led me into one of the main office wings. It was a vast floor with nearly 200 cubicles, but the silence was uncanny. No chatter, no phones, no movement. It felt like a ghost town. Finally, we spotted life: a single cubicle barricaded by heavy blankets. On the front was a hand‑written sign: “DO NOT DISTURB. SOMEONE IS WORKING HERE.” The “someone” emerged to interview me — eyes weary, probably from staring at a flickering CRT monitor all night. He looked like a man who hadn’t seen sunlight in weeks, surviving on Jolt Cola and sheer determination. ...

How Workplace Connections Actually Begin Connections rarely start with intention; they start with opportunity. Connections rarely start with intention; they start with opportunity. What follows is less a story of choice and more a story of how meaning grows in the small spaces created by curiosity. In professional settings, this is especially true. A shared task, a moment of alignment, a brief exchange that lands more deeply than expected - these are the quiet openings through which attention begins to flow. Before any emotional interpretation appears, there is simply the environment shaping the encounter. Two people in proximity. A question asked at the right moment. A gesture of help that feels unexpectedly resonant. The mind responds not because it has chosen someone, but because the situation has created a small, permissive space where imagination can begin its work. A Real Example: How This One Started In this case, the beginning was almost accidental, with an unusual greeting. It...

Jungian Angle: Memories as Archetypal Residue Closure as a quiet form of individuation Jungianly, the lack of development in the same location signals the unconscious “will” to let the connection dissolve. It is not meant for continuation if it doesn’t serve deeper individuation. Memories remain as residue - archetypal echoes lingering in the psyche, not demanding real‑world revival. If she feels absence, her introversion may manifest as shadow work: internalizing the “conflict” to integrate unmet needs, attention becoming a symbol of validation. Without synchronicity, reactivation is unlikely. Reality often softens Jung’s mysticism, turning potential “portals” into quiet closures The introversion does indeed play a central role here. People with strong introverted tendencies often process emotional needs internally rather than voicing them directly. Even when they miss attention or connection, they may rationalize it, distract themselves with solitary activities, hobbies, work, or sup...

Hidden Laws of Connection Connection is made of both presence and absence This morning, a thought about coherence and distancing struck me. Coherence - or rather, the way things can feel so inconsistent - has been baffling me for the past nine months. Perhaps it’s fate, or perhaps the universe’s more reasonable judgment. If everything were perfectly coherent, it might lock us into a state that would be much harder to escape. The same is true for distancing. I don’t know exactly what kind of intuition or introversion it is, but it feels like a necessary rhythm. Pulling back is not rejection; it’s a way of letting patterns reveal themselves without interference. Distancing creates space for recognition. In that sense, incoherence and distance are not flaws in the connection. They are part of the connection. They prevent us from mistaking the mask for the Self, or the repetition for the truth. They remind us that meaning arrives in fragments, in pauses, in the gaps between encounters. May...

The Cold Super Full Moon   A merciless light that strips away illusions, exposes hidden drains, and clears the path for renewal  The Cold Super Full Moon of December 4, 2025, rises as a merciless yet liberating mirror. It forces us to see reality without illusions, to close everything that drains us, and to lay a clean foundation for the new life cycle that begins in 2026. What you honestly face and release now will become tangible freedom and new opportunities by spring 2026. During these days, everything that has been hidden, everything that has quietly drained your energy, becomes impossible to ignore. This super-moon is often called “punishing,” yet it is the very same super-moon that offers a rare chance: the chance to finally see what has long demanded attention, to set boundaries you have postponed for years, to close old debts - not only financial, but moral and emotional - and to finish stories that have been draining your strength without ever reaching a logical end....

Chaos is order waiting for recognition Imagine that everything you thought was random is, in fact, anything but random Pain, crises, losses, recurring patterns, the people who irritate you most — these are not glitches in the matrix. They are the matrix. And the crucial point: the system is not against you. It is working through you. Carl Gustav Jung said: “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life and you will call it fate.”   In other words, unseen forces dictate fate until confronted. The relationships that keep repeating, the failures that feel familiar, the fears that won’t let go — these are not bad luck. They are your inner theater, staging the same play until you finally understand the message life is trying to deliver. Chaos is simply order you haven’t yet understood. Those “random” encounters, prophetic dreams, books that fall into your hands exactly when you need them — Jung called this synchronicity : moments when the outer world mirrors and ad...

Neutral Universe What you release, reality returns. Morality doesn’t govern outcomes; belief in one’s worth does. The universe responds to conviction, not virtue. This shifts focus from “being good” to embodying dignity and self‑faith. The Universe doesn’t divide between good and bad, just as gravity doesn’t spare those who fall. Why do the “bad” sometimes prosper while the “good” suffer? It’s not morality, but vibrational frequency and self‑esteem. The “bad” believe in themselves without guilt; their vibration is pure. The “good” often sabotage themselves with the whisper, “I’m not worthy.” Forget earthly morality. Think like God—dispassionate, above vanity. Believe emotionally that you are worthy of everything. Every day, declare: “I am a spark of eternity. I am worthy of my dream.”   Write: “I am worthy of my dream!”   The universe merely reflects your belief.

Release need - the dream arrives What you release, reality returns. Need pushes away: desire becomes repulsion when charged with desperation. By releasing attachment, you create space for the dream to enter without resistance. The more you cling, the further it slips - like a forest spirit vanishing into the night. Need is the chasm between you and your dream. Why do the poor, begging for money, remain poor, while the rich, not clinging to wealth, multiply it? Because importance frightens reality. Reduce importance. Stand like an old oak, indifferent to the wind. Desire is only a bridge to emotions - peace, joy, strength. Don’t wait for a million to feel rich; embody richness now. Close your eyes. Imagine a dream - a house, a journey, love. Don’t ask for it; feel it as already yours. Just write: “I let go of neediness!”   The dream is waiting for you to stop chasing.  

Be first within - outer life will follow The world outside is only your mirror Reality is reflection: the outer world mirrors the inner state. Identity comes first (“Be”), then action (“Do”), then outcome (“Have”). Transformation begins in thought and self‑concept. You think reality is houses, roads, bank accounts? Ha! Those are only shadows on the cave wall - Plato’s reflections of your inner light. The majority wander lost in the labyrinth, pressing their foreheads against its walls, believing sweat and struggle will lead them to their dream. They toil like ants, pay bills, run in circles - and remain trapped. Why? Because they’re playing the wrong game. The real battle is in the mental forest, where thoughts are roots and emotions rise like mushrooms after the rain. Want wealth, love, freedom? Don’t chase them with your feet. Ignite them in your soul. Be → Do → Have - that’s the ancient spell whispered by the stars. Dream of riches? If in your soul you’re still poor, the world wil...

 Five Secrets to Transform Be first within - outer life will follow. Rules are masks - rewrite them. Release need - the dream arrives. Keep the soul’s vibration steady - frequency wins. The universe is neutral - worth is enough. Insights into the Five Secrets Reality as reflection : The outer world mirrors the inner state. If you cultivate identity first (“Be”), actions (“Do”) and outcomes (“Have”) follow naturally. It’s a reminder that transformation begins in thought and self-concept. Rules as fiction : Social norms, limiting beliefs, and “shoulds” are constructs. They can be rewritten, reframed, or discarded. This opens the possibility of living by self-authored principles rather than inherited ones. Need pushes away : Desire becomes repulsion when charged with desperation. By releasing attachment, you create space for the dream to arrive without resistance. Frequency of faith : Success isn’t about external wins but about sustaining inner vibration - faith, trust, and resilience...

The Mirror Misses Nothing. The Shadow Misses Everything. What we see in others is often what we refuse to see in ourselves. We don’t meet people as they are. We meet reflections - bright, curated, familiar. Or shadows - blurred, elusive, shaped by absence. The mirror reflects what we expect to see. The shadow hides what we refuse to notice. Sometimes we call it connection, but it’s choreography: our image dancing with theirs, our fears casting silhouettes on their gestures. To truly see someone requires stepping beyond the mirror, and into the shadow - not to chase what’s missing, but to notice what we’ve never dared to name.  

  Dieter - The Power of Words Bound by a joke, freed by love It was in Germany, in the blossoming era of personal computers, when data visualization and graphics were still fragile seeds. We supervised research at the university, visited for seminars and demonstrations, and I - young, restless, smoking, drinking beer, living too many hours at the keyboard. Dieter was a sponge, absorbing knowledge at impossible speed. We stayed late in the lab, shared dinners, and one night he asked: “What does a real programmer look like?” I repeated a joke I had once heard: “He knows more, smokes, and drinks beer.” Two years passed. When I returned, Dieter was in graduate school - smoking, loving beer, living the words I had spoken. But I no longer smoked. He asked, astonished: “Why did you quit? Are you still a programmer?” I told him: I had fallen in love. She asked me to stop. And so I did. I had tried before, failed countless times, but when she spoke, the dependency vanished - as if erased by...

A Night Talk Between secrecy and longing, the line blurred into confession. Long ago, in the shadow of nuclear secrecy, my friend Dr. Shin worked at a research facility. It wasn’t the most classified site, but rules still bound them—permits, restricted communications, a single phone line in the director’s office. Researchers lived inside the perimeter for a week at a time, returning home only on weekends. Dr. Shin was in love. And love, as you know, is not a steady climb toward happiness; it has cliffs and sudden falls. In one of those uncertain periods, he borrowed the secretary’s key, slipped into the office after hours, and dialed his girlfriend. They talked and talked, voices weaving through the night, until past 2 a.m.... Then, suddenly, another voice broke in: “My dear lovers, please decide what you are going to do - my tape is running out on the recorder.” And so the moment was sealed - intimacy recorded, surveillance confessing its own exhaustion, time itself asking for resolut...

The Mountain Surgery Between snow and blood, the body healed like a robot remembering its design.   Long ago, in mountains remote from all services, skiers chased pristine snow between cliffs and boulders. They carried only radios for emergencies, and among them was my friend, Dr. Shin - a physicist who lived between Universe and God. One evening, a young woman crashed badly. Fog sealed the peaks, the helicopter postponed till dawn. Her luck was that a surgeon skied with them. He examined her wounds and said: “Without surgery tonight, she will not survive.” No one wished to face blood, but Dr. Shin stepped forward: “I will assist you, doctor.” By lantern light, the surgeon began. With minimal tools, he assembled her body - vessel to vessel, nerve to nerve, bone to bone - not with stitches, but with faith in nature’s design. “The body heals itself,” he said. “We only help it remember.” Shin watched in awe, a physicist witnessing biology’s quiet miracle. At dawn, the helicopter carri...

Summer Rain, Winter Sun I’ve noticed something over the years - how a woman hears the world at 20s, 30s, 40s… Not science, not a survey - just a quiet pattern. 40s - that's where I stopped. Nothing personal, just a gentle “good to know” - like watching seasons change. Here is a short story about it. Thought you might feel it too. A life in three small gestures She was twenty-two the first time a stranger leaned across the bar and said her laugh sounded like summer rain. She believed him. She believed every soft word that followed, because the world still felt wide open and kind, and her hart hadn’t yet learned the difference between curiosity and caution. Nights blurred into mornings; she collected stories the way other people collect seashells, bright, fragile, easy to lose.   By thirty-one the stories had edges. The same laugh now drew glances that lingered too long on her ring finger, or slid away the moment she mentioned a five-year plan. She started asking questions before she...

The Key We Didn’t Know We Were Holding Love helps us discover ourselves Love is not just a meeting of hearts—it’s a meeting of mirrors. Not the kind that reflect our surface, but the kind that reveal our depth. We think we’re drawn to someone because of who they are. But often, we’re drawn because of what they awaken. A forgotten instinct. A buried voice. A version of ourselves we’ve never fully met. Carl Jung believed that love is the psyche’s way of evolving. When someone stirs something deep inside us, it’s not coincidence—it’s invitation. They may reflect a trait we’ve never claimed, or activate a potential we’ve long ignored. In both cases, the love is not just about them. It’s about the self, responding to its own call. Some people arrive and unlock a door we didn’t know was closed. They don’t complete us—they reveal us. They don’t fix us—they challenge us to grow. And sometimes, the most profound love isn’t the one that lasts, but the one that transforms. To be loved deeply is t...

The Shadow We Refuse to Name What we reject in others, and what we fear in ourselves We rarely dislike someone for who they are - we dislike them for what they stir in us. A discomfort, a tension, a trait we’ve buried or denied. It feels like irritation, but it’s often recognition. Not of the other, but of a part of ourselves we’re not ready to face. Jung believed that the psyche doesn’t just project its longings - it also projects its shadows. The qualities we repress, the emotions we disown, the impulses we judge. These don’t vanish. They wait. And when someone embodies them, we flinch. We criticize. We distance. But the reaction is rarely about them. It’s about the mirror they’ve become. We recoil from arrogance not just because it offends, but because it echoes a part of us we’ve disowned. The shadow doesn’t show who they are - it shows what we’ve buried. It’s a distorted image, shaped by fear, darkened by denial. The stronger the reaction, the deeper the reflection. And the re...

The Mirror We Mistake for Magic What we love in others, and what we miss in ourselves We rarely fall in love with a person - we fall in love with a reflection. A gesture, a tone, a trait that stirs something dormant inside us. It feels like magic, but it’s often memory. Not of the other, but of ourselves. Jung believed that love is not random. It’s a response - a psychic echo to what we lack, what we long for, or what we’ve lost. When someone captivates us, it’s not always because of who they are. It’s because they carry a symbol, a fragment of our own psyche, projected outward. We see in them the courage we’ve buried, the freedom we’ve denied, the tenderness we’ve forgotten how to show. We fall for boldness not just because it shines, but because it reflects a version of ourselves we wish we could be. The mirror doesn’t show who we are—it shows who we might become. It’s a virtual image, shaped by longing, lit by projection. And the reverse is true. People fall in love with us not for ...

Smiles, Tears and the Space Beyond A farewell to Helen, where endings ripple into beginnings and belief leaves its mark. Today, Helen called to say she’s leaving ETH Zürich. Helen is a senior researcher at ETHZ, specializing in robotics. Her career path has taken her through leading companies like NVIDIA, Microsoft Research, and Google, but she ultimately chose to return to academia and research. I was proud - having spent over 17 years in high-energy physics research myself, I understand the value of curiosity-driven work, as opposed to corporate research dictated by profit. During my visit to Switzerland this year, we spoke about the differences between industry and academia. I heard something in Helen’s tone - a quiet urgency, a desire for her work to be directly connected to its impact. It wasn’t just about being known; it was about being recognized. She mentioned sexism. She spoke of how much she enjoyed working with young students and postdocs. I agreed completely. I’ve see...

I Don’t Have Time As usual and she made me laugh all day. It’s a phrase we all use. Polite. Efficient. Unassailable. But beneath its surface, something else stirs. “I don’t have time” rarely means a shortage of minutes. It’s a shield. A signal. A soft refusal wrapped in social grace. Sometimes it means: “I’m not ready to feel what this might awaken.” Or: “I’d rather not engage with what this asks of me.” Or simply: “This doesn’t belong in my current rhythm.” And that’s okay. Not every offering needs to be received. Not every reflection needs to be read. Not every gesture needs to be mirrored. But let’s not pretend it’s about the clock. Time is elastic. What we truly mean is: “I choose not to enter this space right now.” And that choice deserves respect. Still, for those who offer— A text, a stone, a question— Know this: Even unanswered, the gesture ripples.  

Author’s Note: The Garden Between In the liminal space between flame and thread, this play unfolds. The Garden Between is not merely a tale of desire—it is a meditation on transformation. Beneath the dialogue of Goracio and Witness lies a deeper current: the evolution of love from hormonal hunger to conscious union, from instinct to meaning. In youth, attraction is gormandize—voracious, impulsive, spring-like. Estrogen, testosterone, dopamine, oxytocin: these are not just chemicals, but archetypal messengers. They speak the body’s longing in nature’s tongue, translating life’s will into sensation. Through this craving, life renews itself. But time softens the hormonal symphony. Fertility wanes, and consciousness deepens. The body, once the stage of desire, yields to the soul. What once burned as lust becomes a quieter fire—connection, companionship, shared meaning. This is not the death of passion, but its alchemy. Love matures into recognition: the meeting of two inner worlds, each b...

Scene: “The Threshold of Flame and Thread” Setting : A twilight garden, half-wild, half-tended. Vines curl around marble columns. A table stands between two chairs—one draped in crimson silk, the other in worn parchment scrolls. Characters : Goracio : Dionysian, radiant, impulsive, sensual. Wears wine-stained robes and speaks in poetic bursts. Witness : Senecan, composed, deliberate, philosophical. Wears a scholar’s cloak and carries a small book of meditations. Act II, Scene IV Goracio (entering with a goblet of pomegranate wine) : The pulse! The ache! The feast of flesh! You speak of bonds, but I— I am the hunger before the vow. The glint in the eye before the name is spoken. Why do you bind the flame with thread? Witness (rising slowly) : Because the flame, untethered, consumes. And thread—woven with care—becomes a cradle. You chase the shimmer of youth, Goracio, But love is not a chase. It is a return. Goracio (laughs, circling): Return? To what? To the dull rhythm of duty? To t...

Stone in the Pocket of Time     Carried in peace, warmed by touch—a talisman of paradox and reconciliation. My colleague brought back a piece of ancient history—a small stone from the Acropolis, perhaps even the Parthenon. It’s impossible to say whether it’s a true fragment of the temple or simply a stone from nearby. But that’s beside the point. What matters is that it lay there for thousands of years, bearing silent witness to the birth of philosophy, democracy, and myth. Someone may have touched it. Someone may have stepped on it. It doesn’t matter—it was there. And that’s enough. But this stone carries more than age. It holds four quiet enchantments: It was given as a gift —not taken, not claimed, but offered. That alone imbues it with relational meaning. It was warm when received —carried in a pocket, close to the body, absorbing the giver’s warmth. A trace of human presence, still lingering. It was found near the Parthenon , a temple built to commemorate the Greek victor...

The Transmission To an unexpected recipient, a reflection on pause   Suddenly, I understand something essential:   I do not need a reader! Why would I? For applause? For recognition of the content? No. That’s not the point. I am not a performer. I am not a messenger awaiting reply. I am a transmitter. I create waves in the Universe—gestures, phrases, fragments of coherence. Whether anyone is on the other side to receive them… that is unknowable. Physicists remind us: If no recipient is defined, no information is transferred. The signal may exist, but without reception, it remains unconfirmed, a simple nose. We cannot predict who will catch it, or when, or how. But perhaps that’s not failure. Perhaps that is freedom. To transmit without demand. To gesture without grasp. To offer without expectation. So let’s transmit. Not for response, but for resonance. Not for audience, but for alignment. Not for permanence, but for presence. Let the signal ripple outward. Let the stone warm ...

Eight Forms of Love  Horatio refers to them, but mentioned only 7 of eight. Eros : Named after the god of love, this is passionate, sexual love characterized by intense desire. The Greeks viewed it as a powerful and potentially dangerous force.   Philia : This describes the love of friendship, loyalty, and shared experiences. It is a love between equals and a dispassionate, virtuous affection.   Storge : This is the natural affection felt between family members, such as parents and children.   Agape : This refers to unconditional, selfless love, often described as divine or universal love extended to all people.   Ludus : This is the playful, sometimes flirty and teasing, kind of love, often seen in the early stages of a relationship.   Pragma : This is enduring love that has developed over a long period and is based on commitment, compromise, and patience.   Philautia : This is self-love. The Greeks understood it can be a positive form of self-...

Three Faces of Time: The Ancient Greek View Time is a person’s most precious resource The ancient Greeks—whose thought forms the bedrock of European culture—understood this deeply. They saw time not as a single stream, but as three distinct currents: Kronos  – the relentless, linear time Cyclos – the cyclical rhythm of events Kairos – the opportune moment, ripe with possibility Kronos: The March of Irrevocable Time Kronos, named after the Greek god who devoured his children, represents sequential, biological time—unstoppable and irreversible. It is the time of clocks and calendars, of aging and deadlines. The Romans called him Saturn, the god of sowing and harvest, echoing the same truth: time moves forward, and we must act wisely within its bounds. Kronos cannot be paused or rewound. It demands planning, execution, and completion. Intelligence, in this frame, is not just problem-solving—it’s solving well and swiftly. That’s why intelligence tests are timed: success in Western ci...

Goracio and Witness — On Happiness and the Mesolithic Soul Happiness isn’t something we chase—it’s something we remember. Witness: Goracio, people often say life is about the pursuit of happiness. Do you believe that? Goracio: I do not. For some of us, the word “happiness” doesn’t exist—not in any meaningful way. It’s not a term I use. Not a question I chase. So this conversation… it will be external to me. As it always has been. Witness: Still, it’s everywhere. People chase it through wealth, status, even substances. Some say happiness is a yacht, a line of cocaine, or a plane full of models. Goracio: That’s the extreme materialist view. A life reduced to dosage and display. We won’t linger there. Let’s speak instead of what happiness might mean—if it means anything at all. Witness: Then where do we begin? Goracio: With the Mesolithic hunter. Before agriculture, before cities. A person who lived lightly, worked little, and knew the forest like a sibling. That, I sus...

Witness on   The Heat of Youth, the Cool of Age They say the old are happier. I believe them. Not because their bodies are light—no, they carry pain like weathered stones. But because their hearts have learned the art of distance. In youth, every touch is a prophecy. Every silence, a blade. We burn with wanting, and call it love. We suffer, and call it meaning. But age… age teaches the difference. That not every ache is sacred. That not every glance must be answered. I remember the chaos— the trembling hands, the sleepless nights, the way we clutched at each other like drowning men. And now? I sit in the same chair. The world still turns. But I no longer mistake the turning for my own undoing. This is not apathy. This is clarity. And it is, strangely, a kind of joy. Author's note On Aging, Intimacy, and Emotional Distance This reflection touches on a profound shift that often accompanies aging: the loosening of emotional entanglement with certain desires, especially those tied...

  Synchronicity on the Shore  A meaningful coincidence   Earlier this year, before my journey to Switzerland, I immersed myself in the writings of Carl Gustav Jung. I wasn’t thinking about geography—just ideas. Archetypes, the collective unconscious, the shadow. I didn’t even register that Jung had lived in Zurich.  Then came Sunday, September 14th. We took a boat across Lake Zurich, snapping pictures along the way. At one stop— Küsnacht —I felt something shift. Maybe it was the “LOVE” sculpture. Maybe something else. I took a photo, not knowing why, just knowing it mattered.  Weeks later, back in the U.S., the thought struck: Wait—didn’t Jung live in Zurich? I looked it up. And there it was: Seestrasse 228, Küsnacht , right next to the lake. Just steps from where I stood, camera in hand. It was a moment of synchronicity —Jung’s own term for a meaningful coincidence. No causal link, just resonance. Internal and external events aligning, quietly, without explana...

Customer Support Interaction Location: call from Dubai to Sunnyvale Participants: Customer (C), Support Agent Jim (S), Technical Lead George(S2) Jim ( S ) is stuck in traffic on his way to the office and answers the phone. S: Good morning, this is Jim from Customer Support, Sunnyvale. How may I assist you today? C: Hello, I’m calling from Dubai. The device isn’t functioning properly. S: I’m sorry to hear that. Could you please clarify what’s not working? C: It’s not recording. S: Understood. Have you tried using the clip tool? C: The click tool? S: No, the clip tool, C-L-I-P tool. You’ll find it at the bottom of the console. C: Let me check… No, it still doesn’t work. S: Is the system currently in recording mode? C: What do you mean by recording mode? S: Is the red indicator light blinking? C: No, it’s not. S: I see. Do you recall when the issue first occurred? C: I’m not sure. I’ve never seen it working. S: Thank you. Please hold while I consult with our technical ...

Threefold Meditation Let Go, Give Thanks, Protect Begin by finding stillness. Sit comfortably. Close your eyes. Let the breath settle into its own rhythm. Step 1. Let Go and Invite the New You don’t need hours of practice. You don’t need elaborate rituals. Just 10–15 minutes of silence is enough. Now, imagine the old dissolving— habits, patterns, stories that no longer serve. See them fading like mist in morning light. Then, feel the new arriving. Fresh energy. Clear intention. Let it fill your space with light. At this moment, your thoughts are powerful. Repeat these phrases softly, like a mantra: “I let go of what is outlived.” “I choose the new.” “I am ready to move on.” Let these words echo. They are not just affirmations. They are commands to the Universe. And the portal—this moment—amplifies them threefold. Step 2. Gratitude and Release Now, turn inward. Run through everything that has brought you here. The joys. The trials. The mistakes. The mira...