|The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from Myths and Myth-Makers by John Fiske:
In the Rig-Veda the Panis are the genii of night and winter,
corresponding to the Nibelungs, or "Children of the Mist," in
the Teutonic legend, and to the children of Nephele (cloud) in
the Greek myth of the Golden Fleece. The Panis steal the
cattle of the Sun (Indra, Helios, Herakles), and carry them by
an unknown route to a dark cave eastward. Sarama, the creeping
Dawn, is sent by Indra to find and recover them. The Panis
then tamper with Sarama, and try their best to induce her to
betray her solar lord. For a while she is prevailed upon to
dally with them; yet she ultimately returns to give Indra the
information needful in order that he might conquer the Panis,
Myths and Myth-Makers
|The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Lay Morals by Robert Louis Stevenson:
of his son, the Turkey merchant's name to his system, and
pronouncing, without further preface, a short epitome of the
'Shandean Philosophy of Nomenclature.'
To begin, then: the influence of our name makes itself felt
from the very cradle. As a schoolboy I remember the pride
with which I hailed Robin Hood, Robert Bruce, and Robert le
Diable as my name-fellows; and the feeling of sore
disappointment that fell on my heart when I found a
freebooter or a general who did not share with me a single
one of my numerous PRAENOMINA. Look at the delight with
which two children find they have the same name. They are
|The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Collected Articles by Frederick Douglass:
fitted out for whaling, and much wood was used in storing them.
The sawing this wood was considered a good job. With the help
of old Friend Johnson (blessings on his memory) I got a saw and "buck,"
and went at it. When I went into a store to buy a cord with which
to brace up my saw in the frame, I asked for a "fip's" worth of cord.
The man behind the counter looked rather sharply at me, and said with
equal sharpness, "You don't belong about here." I was alarmed,
and thought I had betrayed myself. A fip in Maryland was
six and a quarter cents, called fourpence in Massachusetts.
But no harm came from the "fi'penny-bit" blunder, and I confidently
and cheerfully went to work with my saw and buck. It was new business to me,