Children Are Formless
Small children are one of the few things in life that are still authentic. Their little minds are clean petri dishes waiting to be seeded with thought. I would like to create a perfect child by teaching him the correct way to use his mind. I would like to teach the kid how to harness his emotional power for his own good. I would like to teach children to breathe properly and meditate. Intergalactic travel must be accomplished through consciousness because the journey to anything out there worth investigating is four hundred million light years away. Will the children of tomorrow even want to adventure to far away worlds, or will they be too filled with generalized antipathy? Small children and the elderly are a joy to behold, but teenagers should be generally avoided.
Four Hundred Million Light Years
Any intergalactic space travelers out there will be so advanced, they may not want to visit planet Earth. Aliens will be so highly evolved in consciousness it may be dangerous for them to come to Earth. Extraterrestrials may not have the proper immune systems to walk around our disease ridden planet. Aliens may not be able to survive contact with our aggressive and competitive species. If I were a being from four hundred million light years away, I would only communicate with weird people who are not texting.
Bay Club | El Segundo
Driving ten miles to do headstands in the steam room at the Bay Club in El Segundo at five a.m. is worth it. Even in today’s beautiful light rain, it is worth driving the extra distance for the Jacuzzi. The Bay Club’s in El Segundo and Redondo Beach are the only high end gyms I am aware of that have Jacuzzi’s and steam rooms. I lay down in the Jaccuzi to angle the jets blowing hot healing hydrotherapy onto my sore yoga shoulders.
Children From A Higher Galaxy
It is finally raining in Los Angeles. Rain makes me more productive. Rain reminds me of Fall, school, and productivity. A good rain cycle makes it easier to meditate because I am more connected to everything. Meditating in the morning rain four hundred million light years out to the children of a higher galaxy.