The Scholar's Surrender: A 60-Minute Journey with Bharadvaja What if three lifetimes of learning taught you that wisdom comes not from knowing everything, but from releasing the need to try? This 60-minute practice weaves the story of Sage Bharadvaja—who studied the sacred Vedas for three entire human lifetimes, only to discover that complete knowledge is impossible. When Indra showed him three mountains of sand representing all that remains unknown after his devoted study, Bharadvaja found liberation in letting go. Through twisting sequences building to Bharadvajasana (Bharadvaja's Twist), we explore the spiral of releasing: What are we grasping for that we could let go? What wisdom waits when we stop trying to master everything? Expect deliberate pacing, hip-opening preparation, and extended holds. All levels welcome with modifications offered throughout. Peak pose: Bharadvajasana. Theme: Releasing impossible striving, embracing what's real.

Yearning distilled would feel like the purest withdrawal from all that may soothe, yet we still yearn for want

I wasn't expecting much to happen today. After last night, I figured that we would all take some time to settle down for a moment. I would have never guessed that I would finally see some closure after all these years of my dad's lies.

This year has been, maybe, the worst year of my life. Keep in mind, that’s a life that has involved bouts of homelessness, violence, extreme poverty, loss in ways I can’t really measure, but this year, fuck this year.

This story crosses into territory a couple of my publications cover, but since I have been neglecting Dollar Survival it is going to live here. The World in Turmoil Right now we are in trouble as a species. We are doing some things that are long-term unsustainable and have a strong probability of creating some pretty extreme climate feedback loops. Those loops will create conditions that are chaotic. Chaotic is bad for us. Our environment being in chaos makes it hard to prepare, hard to maintain infrastructure, hard to survive.

I have been in a number of relationships over the years, and I have fucked them up in some spectacular ways. One of the ways is fighting. There are two fights I haven’t let go of, that hit my brain at weird moments. I was wrong in both cases, but I feel guilt about one of them, and none about the other one.

SPOILERS. A Mystery book that revolves around two girls going back to a childhood camp, and back to a secret they both promise to keep. This is my ramble on the book. I haven't read it in a while, but I have written down my thoughts. Please don't take this as criticism or anything. Just a short ramble.

This is harder to write than the bit about The Mess — for a few reasons. The first one is simply that she is still alive; she might read this (probably not, but who knows), or someone who knows her might read this, and I don’t want to cause her any problems. That means this won’t have my usual level of candour.

A long time ago I lived in a place where it was hot and humid all the time. The medical was a bit behind the western world as well. In fact, most of the country was still operating with stone-age technology. Most of the country was jungle, or at least most of the land areas… although since it was a series of small to medium islands most of the country was actually water.

I was fifteen the first time I spent the night on the street. I was eighteen the last night I spent on the street. I’m about to turn forty-six as I write this (note: I'm 52 now, it's still true though). There are elements of my personality that are still stuck on the street.

Fighting is a really bad idea. If you fight, you will get hurt, you will get injured, you will hurt other people, and your psyche will bear the scars of that hurt. I love to fight, and I’ve done it much of my life.

I felt a sense of madness, freedom bubbling over, through my veins. I was running down the street with my best friend. We were young, so young and stupid. The night air was warm, cloudless. No stars, the city lights made stars impossible. A city of millions isn’t the place for astronomers. The madness we felt was because, at fifteen, we were on our own. Things had come to a head with my mother, and I was no longer living with her. My friend Michael (not his real name) was in the same situation. Although for me, and I think for him as well, it was something deeper. I was still profoundly wounded by my return to Canada, leaving my beloved jungle behind and trying to make sense of a place where the world was devoted to cars and giant buildings. Toronto was not the best place for my return.

Most Americans still imagine Greenland as a distant wasteland of ice and polar bears. That picture is outdated. Greenland now stands at the center of the most serious strategic contest on Earth. Whoever holds Greenland controls the northern hemisphere. The island sits directly on the shortest missile path between the United States, Russia, and China. That fact alone turns a remote Arctic landmass into a priceless military asset.

This poem is written from the perspective of Jesus Christ. I wrote this during my junior year of college.

The Montreal Caribe Kings are a Caribbean-inspired football team based in Montréal. They represent Caribbean pride and Montréal toughness, mixing island culture with northern strength. Their colors are ocean blue and gold (with black/white accents), and their mascot is a crowned hawk symbolizing speed and power. They play at Stade du Royaume and are known for a fast, aggressive style of football. Their motto is “Island Blood. Northern Heart.”

The Montreal Alouettes are Montréal’s main football team in the CFL. They started in 1946 and represent Québec with pride. They play at Percival Molson Memorial Stadium on Mount Royal and are known for their blue, red, and white colors. The Alouettes have a strong fanbase, big rival games, and are an important part of Montréal sports culture.

This starts at the beginning of my life and how quickly it went downhill, yes even at 5 years old I knew that I was doomed and how a bottle of cough syrup made my day go better without knowing exactly why.

Love and loss are a natural part of life; I've loved and watched as I lost that love. It never stops. Humans seek connection, whether that be friendship or romance. The loss of people and pets is inevitable, no matter how much we wish it weren't. No matter how they depart from your life still hurts, from no contact to death.

Nickname: He is known as "IcyShawn" for his calm, tactical demeanor in the ring. Physical Advantage: Valai stands at 6 feet tall and possesses a reach approximately 15% longer than average for his height, which he uses to control distance effectively. Record: His current amateur record is strong: 9 wins, 1 loss, and 1 tie. Durability: Crucially, he has zero losses by knockout, indicating strong defensive skills and resilience. He has achieved 3 knockout wins of his own. Outlook: He is identified as a serious prospect within the Quebec amateur boxing circuit for the 2026 season and beyond.

The natural elements carve you when you least expect it and you're never the same. You have to fight to keep your essence. The only wealth you have is your presence.