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The Artist's Way:...
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Renee Layberry wants to read
Happiness by Matthieu Ricard
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The Happiness Hypothesis by Jonathan Haidt
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Learned Optimism by Martin E.P. Seligman
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Flourish by Martin E.P. Seligman
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Soulshaping by Jeff  Brown
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Being Mortal by Atul Gawande
Being Mortal by Atul Gawande
"This is not an easy read, but it is an essential one. The book delves into topics of deep discomfort - mortality, end-of-life care, and how to have those difficult conversations to lend a greater degree of peace to death. It looks into alternative..." Read more of this review »
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Being Mortal by Atul Gawande
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The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up by Marie Kondō
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Stuffocation by James Wallman
Stuffocation
by James Wallman (Goodreads Author)
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More of Renee's books…
Hermann Hesse
“For me, trees have always been the most penetrating preachers. I revere them when they live in tribes and families, in forests and groves. And even more I revere them when they stand alone. They are like lonely persons. Not like hermits who have stolen away out of some weakness, but like great, solitary men, like Beethoven and Nietzsche. In their highest boughs the world rustles, their roots rest in infinity; but they do not lose themselves there, they struggle with all the force of their lives for one thing only: to fulfil themselves according to their own laws, to build up their own form, to represent themselves. Nothing is holier, nothing is more exemplary than a beautiful, strong tree. When a tree is cut down and reveals its naked death-wound to the sun, one can read its whole history in the luminous, inscribed disk of its trunk: in the rings of its years, its scars, all the struggle, all the suffering, all the sickness, all the happiness and prosperity stand truly written, the narrow years and the luxurious years, the attacks withstood, the storms endured. And every young farmboy knows that the hardest and noblest wood has the narrowest rings, that high on the mountains and in continuing danger the most indestructible, the strongest, the ideal trees grow.

Trees are sanctuaries. Whoever knows how to speak to them, whoever knows how to listen to them, can learn the truth. They do not preach learning and precepts, they preach, undeterred by particulars, the ancient law of life.

A tree says: A kernel is hidden in me, a spark, a thought, I am life from eternal life. The attempt and the risk that the eternal mother took with me is unique, unique the form and veins of my skin, unique the smallest play of leaves in my branches and the smallest scar on my bark. I was made to form and reveal the eternal in my smallest special detail.

A tree says: My strength is trust. I know nothing about my fathers, I know nothing about the thousand children that every year spring out of me. I live out the secret of my seed to the very end, and I care for nothing else. I trust that God is in me. I trust that my labor is holy. Out of this trust I live.

When we are stricken and cannot bear our lives any longer, then a tree has something to say to us: Be still! Be still! Look at me! Life is not easy, life is not difficult. Those are childish thoughts. Let God speak within you, and your thoughts will grow silent. You are anxious because your path leads away from mother and home. But every step and every day lead you back again to the mother. Home is neither here nor there. Home is within you, or home is nowhere at all.

A longing to wander tears my heart when I hear trees rustling in the wind at evening. If one listens to them silently for a long time, this longing reveals its kernel, its meaning. It is not so much a matter of escaping from one's suffering, though it may seem to be so. It is a longing for home, for a memory of the mother, for new metaphors for life. It leads home. Every path leads homeward, every step is birth, every step is death, every grave is mother.

So the tree rustles in the evening, when we stand uneasy before our own childish thoughts: Trees have long thoughts, long-breathing and restful, just as they have longer lives than ours. They are wiser than we are, as long as we do not listen to them. But when we have learned how to listen to trees, then the brevity and the quickness and the childlike hastiness of our thoughts achieve an incomparable joy. Whoever has learned how to listen to trees no longer wants to be a tree. He wants to be nothing except what he is. That is home. That is happiness.”
Hermann Hesse, Bäume. Betrachtungen und Gedichte

J.K. Rowling
“Indifference and neglect often do much more damage than outright dislike.”
J.K. Rowling, Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix

Mahatma Gandhi
“When I despair, I remember that all through history the way of truth and love have always won. There have been tyrants and murderers, and for a time, they can seem invincible, but in the end, they always fall. Think of it--always.”
Mahatma Gandhi

Michael Cunningham
“One always has a better book in one's mind than one can manage to get onto paper.”
Michael Cunningham

Oscar Wilde
“I am so clever that sometimes I don't understand a single word of what I am saying.”
Oscar Wilde, The Happy Prince and Other Stories

100710 Freelance authors self help — 541 members — last activity Feb 21, 2015 09:53AM
Hello to all self published and freelance authors who are alone and work hard to promote their books. First, this is a secret group. This is a group o ...more