Results 1 to 20 of 273 for stemmed:admit
Because you know that somehow you breathe, without consciously being aware of the actual mechanics being involved, you are forced despite your inclinations to admit that you do do your own breathing. When you cross a room you are forced to admit that you have caused yourself to cross the room, even though consciously you have no idea of willing the muscles to move or of stimulating one muscle or another; and yet even there, though you admit these things, you do not believe them. In your quiet unguarded moments you still say who breathes, who dreams, and even who moves? How much easier it would be to admit freely and wholeheartedly the simple fact that you are not consciously aware of important vital parts of yourself, and that you are more than you know you are.
Therefore, with such an unnatural division it seems to man that he does not know himself. He says “I breathe, but who breathes, since consciously I cannot tell myself to breathe or not to breathe?” He says “I dream, but who dreams? I cannot tell myself to dream or not to dream.” He cuts himself in half, then wonders why he is not whole. Even in my own lifetimes on your plane I sensed this basic contradiction. Man has consistently admitted to the evidence only those things he could see, smell, touch or hear, and in so doing he could only appreciate half of himself. And when I say half of himself I exaggerate. He is aware of only a third of himself, because two-thirds of himself exists in that realm to which he will not admit.
It is on your part more than anything else, a simple refusal to admit into existence anything that is not a camouflage pattern. Camouflage patterns are of course, with again some exceptions, essentials on any plane, since each type represents the actual form of the plane and the various characteristics within it. Nevertheless it is possible, and actually much more efficient and simple, to accept this fact and also realize and admit the inner vitality behind the camouflage.
The facts are simply that you yourselves form these camouflage patterns, and I repeat this simple statement: You form the camouflage world of appearances with the same part of you that breathes. You do not admit the breather as really being a part of yourselves, nor do you admit the creator of the camouflaged physical world as being part of yourselves.
[...] To admit a need for comfort or to admit fears would put him, in your eyes, in the same category as all these others.
Because you know that you breathe, without being consciously aware of the mechanics involved, you are forced to admit that you do your own breathing. When you cross a room, you are forced to admit that you have caused yourself to do so, though consciously you have no idea of willing the muscles to move, or of stimulating one tendon or another. Yet even though you admit these things, you do not really believe them.
[...] Man has admitted only those things he could see, smell, touch or hear; and in so doing, he could only appreciate half of himself. [...]
[...] Who moves?’ How much easier it would be to admit freely and wholeheartedly the simple fact that you are not consciously aware of vital parts of yourself and that you are more than you think you are.
I cannot say this too often — you are far more than the conscious mind, and the self which you do not admit is the portion that not only insures your own physical survival in the physical universe which it has made, but which is also the connective between yourself and inner reality. [...]
[...] The muscles were already contracted in your body because you did not admit your true feelings.
[...] So before he even admits to himself what he feels, hiding any acknowledgement of aggression, he bends down and says, “My good man, may you live long and heartily. [...]
[...] The most important thing, however, is to acknowledge the feeling as legitimate, with its own realm of existence, to admit it as a part of yourself. [...]
[...] The thought existed, but it wasn’t strong enough to bring about the physical reaction even if you had fully admitted it. [...]
You are excellent teachers, I must admit. However, Joseph, while I admit I came uninvited, and while I understand the reason for last night’s absence, I took it for granted that we would have our regular session this evening. [...]
[...] However he was willing to listen to me irregardless, and I must admit that in no way do I understand your cutting me off in such a brusque manner.
[...] Because, Philip, you are such a good witness, and I must admit because I too have known you in the past, I consider you an old friend, and we shall to some extent renew acquaintance.
I must admit that this brings us far afield from our discussion of evolution.
An inability to face or admit, or solve, physical problems, can also be reflected in the physical condition, and reactivate earlier sensitivities, leading to a sense of hopelessness. [...]
The change, while admittedly advantageous, reflects the fact that people are being helped, and that in our way we are able to help them change their picture of reality for the better, and to enlarge their understanding.
He is now at a point where he can use this kind of help, where admittedly in the past he was not (period).
If you do not want to do these things, and you are sure you do not, then admit it, without relying upon the symptoms as a handy excuse.
[...] They are contracted because you have not admitted, in this point admittedly of future spiritual progression, that you wanted to wring his neck, so you say nothing but wish him well. [...]
Now three weeks later we have another encounter and our poor ignorant workman falls asleep again at his chore and our good minister comes by and he looks and he sees the idle one upon the floor snoozing and he thinks, I would like to kick you in the you know where, but he thinks, oh no, I cannot think such an unChristian thought and violence is wrong, so before he even admits to himself what he feels and hiding from himself any acknowledgment of aggression. [...]
[...] The most important thing, however, is to acknowledge the feeling as a legitimate feeling with its own realm of existence, to admit it as a part of yourself and then choose as to how you want to deal with it. [...]
[...] The thought existed but not strong enough to bring about the physical reaction even if you had fully admitted the thought. [...]
[...] Her doctor, Marsha Kardon, had had her admitted at supper time the day before [May 20, Thursday] because the middle finger of Jane’s left hand had begun to turn blue from the last joint to the nail. [...]
[...] She’d suspected vasculitis when Jane had been first admitted to Arnot Ogden early in February, but tests had ruled it out. [...]
[...] Such a child will often be quite conscious of the reason for the affair: he or she may openly admit the fact that the injured part was purposefully chosen so that a dreaded test at school could be missed, and the child might well think that the injury was little enough to pay for the desired effect that it produced.
[...] To a large extent they will (underlined) the events of their lives — whether or not they are willing to admit this to themselves, and they will (underlined) to die.