#ruminating Hermann

[foxglovecove]

Tales from the Jaeger Pilot AU

Some background for the snippet below: Newt and Hermann are jaeger co-pilots, this bit takes place probably 6 months into their assignment together after graduating academy. Newt also has yet to get his first tattoo which will be the one they’ve just defeated

I HC that Hermann is not a huge fan of casual touch so…

…when a drunk Newt burst into Hermann’s bunk room one night post “successfully defeated a Kaiju” mission, basically rendering Hermann trapped on his couch while he snored away in dreamland, it sent Hermann down a spiral of rumination on his ability to get close to people

Here’s a rough snippet of a larger bit of story I’m poking at that goes along with this pic:

Then there had been the letters from Newton, the anticipation churning each time he flipped open his post box, and the relief that came with the knowledge there would only ever be words on paper between them, keeping him safe and Newton at a distance.

Ha.

He stares down—one arm tucked behind his head, the other still holding the burning nub of a cigarette like a lifeline—and wonders if anxious anticipation and cultivated distance are all he’ll ever be capable of. He’s mesmerized by the steady rise and fall of Newton’s head pillowed against his stomach. How easy it would be to just reach out and…touch.

His fingers twitch.

You’ve been a menace to me for 6 years.

Three years of letters. Then three years since the letters had stopped, when Newton ceased being nebulous words safe on a page, and burst loud and colorful and real, into Hermann’s life at the academy.

[homopathy69]

HIS ASS QUIET!!!!!

I will not disclose the reason for his anger

ughoaokwii i need to go to a fucking what is it called vocational college seminar and I DONT WANT TO IM NOT GOING TO VOCATIONAL COLLEGEE!!!!! Grrr!!!!!!..!!.!.!! I’m also so not getting into university theres just no way they’ll take me :P can a bro just chill 🍃 fr.,….,.,.,.i mean i got a bit over two years but come the fuck on I’m not making it and I don’t even need to. University only has one thing i want which is education but I can do without university to get education. Plus everyone’ll expect me to do something great after like jesus hermann christ mom I’m not gonna do groundbreaking discoveries in chemistry im sorry. I’ve pretty much abandoned all my plans by now because there’s nothing i can do except trying not to be a burden on society and do my part to make some people happy. I don’t want anything which is bad because i think you’re supposed to want something from life but it might be just cuz im ND and I don’t see myself in traditional work or work at all. I just want to frolic in the flower fields and be left alone until I am done baking but I’m afraid I’ll get burned to a crisp if i keep saying im not ready. I might go to italy for two weeks for a school thing which is great. I hope the weather is better than here.

Speaking of weather i was actually kinda counting on the fact that I wouldn’t even make it to spring but apparently life has a way of keeping me alive. I simply cannot fit a hospital stay nor death into my schedule. My schedule has plenty of empty space dont get me wrong but It’s because I’m a mentally exhausted little man and i need to ruminate in my sadness.

Im twitter posting again but tumblr is better for it because it actually lets me type an essay. Ughhoojqlal I don’t wanna go to my art classes tomorrow they both suck major ass. In the other one we’re using adobe illustrator and it’s just….. dreadful. The other one is a movie course which is fine but it’s very taxing for me. I just kinda wanna drop out but the law won’t allow it anymore. Which is good cuz id be dead without school :P

[infpisme]

[avelera]

I've been thinking a lot about 'joy' in fiction lately.

This rumination began back when I described 'my novel' to my dad. Yeah, that novel. The novel we're all working on but that we're too scared or too busy or too hung up on outlining to actually write. The details of the novel are immaterial but it is something of a tragedy, and when I finished describing it my dad said, "Where's the joy in it? Where's the fun?"

At the time I was indignant, the point of the novel wasn't to be "fun", but it was styled as an adventure so it was a fair question. I didn't have an answer. I was consumed by the tragedy of that story and hadn't really thought about where the other pleasures of the genre, like fun or joy, would fit into the story. He and I disagree about a lot when it comes to fiction so I was tempted to write off the comment as him 'missing the point' but we also agree on many things and he was the one who introduced me to a love of reading at a young age with his nightly storytelling, so the critique stuck. And grew. And worried at me. I began to really, really think about where the joy and fun were in stories, even in tragedies.

This was several years ago and the world has become a grimmer place since then, or perhaps I've simply aged and become more aware of what's around me. The latter is more likely. Perhaps it is with age and awareness that I began to really see his point. As a teenager, craving the most extreme of experiences, I longed to read and write stories of the most aching anguish: the world is ending and my lover is dying in my arms, that sort of thing. It was about teasing at emotions too big and operatic for me to have experienced yet at that age. Pain and anguish and drama and tragedy are all wonderful seasonings, they allow us to live vicariously feelings outside what we've experienced. Fiction allows us to safely, on our own terms, and at our own pace, experience destruction, and self-destruction in ways we'd never want to permanently impact our real lives. With experience and lived pain, though, I believe one loses a bit of one's taste for the banality of endless pain and unmixed anguish, even in fiction.

There should be joy somewhere, perhaps not in every story, but as a maxim to myself for future creative endeavors, I believe this is important. It's hard to see the depths of a rich, inky darkness without a bit of light. It's hard to appreciate a character crying if we've never seen them laugh. Even as a writer, it can be hard to live in the lowest depths of a character's despair if there's no break from that emotion. It's hard for audiences, I think, to cheer for a character if they never see their happiness as well as their suffering.

On a more personal, fandom note it's one reason I'm reassessing some of my older WIPs in fandoms like Pacific Rim, where Newt/Hermann as a couple were a comedy ship for me at first but the events of Uprising made Newt's fate so gutwrenching, and in my own fics as well, that I feel I abandoned some WIPs just because I could no longer live in that place. Even if the story still calls to me to be finished, I feel I need to rediscover the joy there. For OFMD I feel it a personal mission that anything longer than a one-shot that I might write contain some glimmer of the humor of the source material, or else it feels like a disservice to the text. In my own novel, I’m mentally writing and re-writing the outline (maybe someday I'll write the actual book!) trying to find where the joy should go. It feels like the latest key to unlocking the story.

Joy has a place in stories. Not always a central place, but like Hope in Pandora's box of horrors, we need a glimmer of it, I think. Or at least I do, these days, to be fully engaged. It's where my head is at lately. It's what I hope to impart in whatever I do next.

[garadinervi]

Bernard Kirschenbaum, Cover art for Jalaluddin Muhammad Rumi: 'Ruminations', Translated from the Persian by Zahra Partovi, Vincent FitzGerald & Co., New York, NY, 1998. Designed by Jerry Kelly & Vincent FitzGerald. Printing: The Stinehour Press. Type: Hermann Zapf’s Renaissance, Aldus and Michelangelo

[computomography]

① I am an invasive person, and I have been troubled by this for the past ten years. Invasive thinking should belong to psychology. Many times I will have some dangerous ideas. Invasive thoughts are an idea that enters the level of individual consciousness, often without warning, and its content is often worrying, disturbing or strange. Most of the time, they just flash through my mind, but for me, I will repeatedly struggle with these invasive thinking, resulting in strong pain in individuals. The forms of invasive thinking mainly include anxiety, compulsive thinking and ruminant. In terms of content, it is mostly negative memories, violent ideas, and sex-related ideas. For example: infected by bacteria and viruses, and then dying, suddenly want to attack someone, children suddenly have some form of accident, when it is very quiet, suddenly want to shout, past experience of being hurt, the impulse to sexually assault others. Including height-phobia and obsessive-compulsive disorder, I think it is also related to invasive thinking, and I am also a relatively extreme person myself. So I'm interested in invasive thinking, because for me, I've been trying to figure out this problem over the years. How much has this invasive thinking changed me? What symptoms did it cause? And how many people are similar to me? Are we the same group? For example, when I stand on the railings of the balcony, I can't help jumping down, which seems to be a desire for the tranquility of death and the pursuit of a state of stability. Research shows that some poets are 30 times more likely to have bipolar disorder than ordinary people, so I can understand the feeling of eager to find identity in past celebrities - knowing that all this has been tormenting them for a long time may make them feel better. There is always a force of oppression in our hearts, which may be violent ideas or self-abuse tendencies. Here are some of my own behaviors about invasive thinking:

The pupils on the edge of the balcony on the seventh floor began to enlarge, washed his hands 18 times, constantly stepped on the protruding objects with his feet, sat on the railings, and then kept leaning back and cycled back. Walking around the ice cream cone over and over again, he turned to the bottom of the bridge and stared at a pile of broken fallen leaves.

But I still believe it.Depression and bipolarity are a channel to produce wonderful thinking.

Most of the time, I enjoy the thinking brought by this pain, which makes me pay more attention to the power in my body.

Understanding Contemporary Art 4.1 On Viennese Actionism by John David Ebert

Wikipedia defines the entry Vienna Actionism or Viennese Actionism as "a short and violent movement in the twentieth century". The Vienna Action School is one of the many "art of action" movements in the 1960s, including the Wave School, the occasional art, the performance art and the body art. The four core members of the Vienna Action faction are Günter Brus, Otto Mühl, Hermann Nitsch, and Rudolf Schw Arzkogler), active as an activist between 1960 and 1971

Antonin Artaud’s manuscript

②

Therefore, I am interested in a historic movement, the Vienna Action Faction. I think there is a link between invasive thinking and taboo energy in the body. I want to start with the "cruel theater" proposed by Antonin Artaud. Artaud so-called "cruelness" is a kind of performance mode that makes people trapped in some kind of wild and beyond rational consciousness (this is a bit like one of the acts of invasive thinking, shouting suddenly in an unintentional place, which I often do. ) I think quoting Artaud 's description is that "in an extremely familiar situation, a space in the audience's heart is opened by a strange beam of light." In his 1938 book The TheatreandItsDouble, Artaud explained the cruel theater theory by calling for the establishment of a venting theater to replace traditional, rational, elite and suppressing people's emotional feelings. Field, the sound and body movements are developed to the extreme in the ritual way of witchcraft sacrifice, so that the audience can experience an extreme experience like spiritual enlightenment.

For the development of the project, I will conceptually quote invasive thinking, interview this specific group of people, and collect different forms of media expression (perhaps their personal belongings, photos, transcripts, etc.) that are troubled by invasive thinking, and will also go deep into The profound influence of this historic movement of the Vienna Action School on some later behavioral artists is how to inspire them to explore the boundaries of the body, how to break the taboos of the body, and how to release the strength in the body. In today's context, I try to find the connection between those suffering from invasive thinking, whether their thinking is like the Viennaists at that time, some strength in our bodies has been suppressed.

mind-map for connection between Vienna Actionism and Intrusive thoughts

But for intrusive thinking, some scholars suggest (Seif & Winston, 2018) that invasive thinking may only be an extra product generated in our brain's brain stream of consciousness, similar to garbage-like existence. As long as we don't pay too much attention to it, it will eventually disappear.

Herman Netsey's Good Friday Picture 1961

YokoOno, a female artist, uses her body as an artistic medium. Her most famous performance art performance was CutPiece held at Carnegie Hall in New York in 1965. Yoko sat motionless on the stage and asked the audience to come on stage to cut off her clothes one by one until all of them slipped off her. In English, fragments are homophonic with peace, and cutting clothes means destroying peace. Yoko Ono's physical performance exposed the process of human aggression and invasion, tyranny and abuse, and revealed the harm of human nature caused by the tendency of aggression and violence in human social behavior.

blade sheet by me

Francis Bacon: Man and Beast

my hand drawings in Royal academy of arts

Since then, Deluz has further put forward the Alto-style "body withoutorgan" theory. In 1989, he used Francisco Bacon's fleshy picture as an example to explain the body theory of resisting all institutional constraints. It can be seen that since the 1990s, contemporary artistic practice and theory have once again turned to the body, which is not accidental. This turn means that the real feeling from the body has finally broken the simulation image of shielding reality in the post-modernist period, allowing people to touch a real and humanized world again.

Essentially, invasive thinking also affects symptoms such as obsessive-compulsive disorder and acrophobia.

③ I have done a project about height phobia before, which is the most important thing for me to print.Like profound. In fact, this is not high-fear, but more about the stability of death. I don't have much sense of fear of heights, physiological reactions, etc., and fear of falling. I studied this.The cause of fear and the possibilityInspired by the explanation: Acrophobia will have a strange counterintuitive effect: let yourself fall into the depths of panic and willingly jump down. Researchers have found that no matter where they are, people will overestimate their longitudinal height, which may be one-third to twice as much.2. But people can usually accurately estimate the horizontal distance. Overestimation of vertical distance will make high places more terrible for some people: Professor Stefanucci and others have found that the higher the fear, the higher the estimated vertical distance, which also escalates their fears and forms a vicious circle 3. So I did different perspective experiments. At the same time as structural development, I have developed the fabrics of my project based on this. The artwork in this project adopts clothing.Materials that are not common in production. I mix epoxy resin a and b glue on cardboard. Then turn the cardboard to make the glue flow. In order to imitate the trauma of multiple layers of skin, I used a hot fan and realistic fake blood. To enrich the details, I use plastic straws as veins, and then use epoxy resin to fix their positions. Make a blurred visual effect of people falling from a high place and falling behind the ground.

[hermannsthumb]

I've been haunted by this prompt: Hermann keeps staring at Newt's lips wondering if they're as soft as they look.

this ficlet brought to you by the fifty times newt goes :p in the film and this one picture i have saved of him after being chased by baby otachi where his mouth is hanging open

-------------------------------------

Hermann’s insomnia has been getting worse lately. He’s not sure why--stress, looming deadlines, the end of the world that creeps ever-closer--but whatever the case may be, he’s laid awake in bed three of the five nights of this week. Alone, gazing up at the ceiling, thoughts racing, drifting off around five only to be awoken by his alarm for work at seven and have to shamble to the showers and choke down breakfast. It makes for a bloody awful work day. Even Newton’s been commenting on his recent sloppiness.

(“Missing a decimal point there, ace,” he said yesterday, tapping at Hermann’s chalkboard with the end of a pencil obnoxiously, and the day before was the negative sign that shouldn’t have been there, and two days before that--because Hermann managed to get one decent night’s sleep in the middle--he’d written a six instead of a seven. Messy, easily caught mistakes. Yet Hermann did not catch them.)

The solutions Google gave Hermann did not help. Hermann does not use a computer if he can help it, nor is he allowed a cellular phone on the base, so there is nothing to cut back on there; he already does not drink caffeine after five in the evening; evening meditation does nothing but give him time to ruminate on how behind in his work he is and stress him out further. He’s at his wit’s end. Frustrated beyond anything. It’s why he’s on his way to the lab at three in the morning--he may as well get some bloody work done.

He should’ve known Newton--perpetually sleep-deprived, caffeine-guzzling, manic Newton, who embraces his insomnia with open arms--would have the same idea. 

“Howdy,” Newton says when Hermann shuffles through the door. He’s sprawled across the couch, cradling a mug, wearing nothing but boxers and a sweatshirt, his hair a wild tangled mess. Usually he’s styled it with so much product not even a hurricane could rustle a strand out of place. “What’s up? Couldn’t sleep?”

Hermann back a sigh: he hadn’t particularly wanted to talk to anyone. Especially not someone who loves talking as much as Newton. He nods.

“Me neither,” Newton says. “Hey, have a seat. I just made a pot of coffee, do you want--?”

“No,” Hermann says, quickly, “thank you. I won’t be able to sleep if I have caffeine now.”

Newton’s mouth twists up. “You’re already not sleeping,” he points out. He swings his legs down to make room for Hermann and pats the cushion. “Come on, have a seat, you’re not going to get any work done anyway. Is it still milk and no sugar?”

“Er. Yes.”

Hermann takes the proffered seat while Newton dims the lights and busies himself at the kitchenette. He, strangely, feels more comfortable here (with the sagging cushions, creaking springs, overstuffed throw pillows) than he has in his bed all month. The couch is still warm with Newton’s body heat; the overhead lights are not fluorescent, not like they are in Hermann’s room; even the steady bubbling of Newton’s specimen tanks in the background is soothing. Hermann drags the knit blanket they keep tossed over the back of the couch down and spreads it out across himself, and, as an afterthought, nudges off his slippers. It’s downright cozy.

“Here, dude.” Newton wriggles in next to Hermann and hands the mug over. The PPDC-issued instant coffee is terrifically weak, and the milk they put in it is always watered down enough to barely be milk, yet the smell of it--the warmth of it, spreading down through his fingers--makes Hermann hum happily. He even allows himself a small smile. “Gimme some blanket,” Newton says. “I’m cold.”

“It’s not big enough for both of us,” Hermann says.

Newton wriggles closer. “It’s going to have to be. Come on, you jerk, I made you coffee.” Hermann relents and allows Newton to slip under the blanket, too; Newton sinks, low, until it reaches his chin, and then shoots Hermann a smug, satisfied smile. “I knew you’d wear a dressing gown,” he continues. He’s speaking softer than usual. “It’s the kind of dorky thing you’d do.”

“Mm,” Hermann says.

Newton drums his fingers against the side of his mug. He takes a drink.

How funny, Hermann thinks, the sorts of thoughts you entertain when you’re not quite in your right mind, the sorts of thoughts he’s entertaining now upon watching his friend swallow and swipe his tongue across his lower lip: Newton has got a lovely mouth. Always pink, like he’s just bitten at it, curled into a perpetual snarky grin (though less snarky, tonight, more genuine), wet, now, from coffee and saliva. Soft. Very soft. Hermann’s own lips are always chapped.

“Something wrong?” Newton says.

Newton has a tin of rose-flavored lip balm he keeps in the top drawer of his desk, and Hermann has seen him use it frequently (carefully and methodically dragging a fingertip across his lips). It always leaves his mouth a little glossy. The vaguest scent of roses clinging to him that Hermann catches in whiffs when he walks by. Perhaps he’d taste like roses now. “Ah,” Hermann says, casting his eyes down to his mug hurriedly, “no, why would you ask?”

“You were looking at me weird,” Newton says. “Do I have something...?” He licks two fingers and rubs at a spot on his cheek.

“No,” Hermann says. “Nothing. Nothing at all.”

He takes a too-big sip of coffee, chokes, and coughs up half of it down his pajama shirt and dressing gown. Newton narrows his eyes. “Alright.”

Unlike Hermann, who can go months without picking up a razor and have nothing more than a few cactus-like prickles along his jaw to show for it, Newton seems to be perpetually stubbled no matter how often he shaves. Chin, jaw, cheeks--always so rough-looking, always so scratchy, yet encircling that damned soft mouth. Would it burn to kiss him? Or would Hermann be so distracted by his lips--

“Stop staring at me, man,” Newton says, “it’s wigging me out.”

“I’m sorry,” Hermann wheezes. “It’s not--”

Newton wets his lips again, another frequent habit of his, something Hermann has seen him do dozens of times when he’s anxious or lost in thought. Only this time, when Newton does it, Hermann cracks.

Newton goes rigid with confusion when Hermann swoons against him, but when Hermann--unable to help himself--presses their lips together clumsily, he fists the back of Hermann’s dressing gown with a “Mmph!” and kisses back. Hermann is quickly overwhelmed. Newton’s lips are as soft as they look, soft and plush, and he parts them so readily when Hermann prods at them with his tongue that Hermann can’t help but push more of himself against Newton and kiss him harder, push his tongue in deeper. Newton’s stubble scrapes his skin. He tastes like stale coffee. (No roses.) How wonderful--how dizzying--

Hermann’s snapped to his senses by the sound both of their coffee mugs rolling off the couch and shattering. What is he doing? “I’m sorry,” Hermann repeats in a pant. He tries to push himself up, up off the dazed Newton, up to deal with the mess seeping across the floor. “I’m sorry, I don’t know--”

“Shut up,” Newton says, grinning, tugging furiously at Hermann’s gown to pull him back down. His pupils have dilated behind his crooked, fogging glasses. “Do it again.”

[magnetar1]

Before the End

Roads strewn with dead.  Three days journey before reaching the mountain.  They’d come this way before . . .  

Funerary detachment in times of war & bloodshed, continually ignoring the subtler emotions.  Having lost more than they cared to admit, they never complained about being tired or cold.  Backing down from less evolved attitudes, they get up & go.

- - -

Born dreading, he is one who leads them.  After all, it is one of his brothers they are going to honor.  The youngest of the group, but the strongest.  The only one, too, without memory of rhapsody . . . Instead, songs of doom under clanging steel: beleaguered portents failing to atomize indifference.  Necro-denizens play the tune while huddled in a mass grave.  As wounded grieve & cry, rake & eventually die.  

Priests of Chemosh.  Kingly scribes.  Gathering might of lost tribes; unconscious deity, incarnate usurper.

- - -

He tells them to sleep.  They sleep when, & where, they are able. However he does not, preferring to keep his eyes on the stage.  Domed hills beneath writhing pillars of smoke, funneling blackened torment into the heart of the sky.  Snaking omnipresent in view of all who warded against it.  Charging air with molecules of light, sheltering filigree of wisdom’s torch.  

For him such wisdom never was, experienced only in dreams or visions.  

Hallucinating rapture.  Land of Ancestors.  Visitant yet lost, bedraggled episcopal trace.  Especially when consuming the body of Ashtar, below the grave of the world.  Following her through its necropolis, yet unpopulated by abominations – Creatures here, free to come & go, untainted by the reality of fear.

- - -  

He did not fear them, that much he knew.  Head empty save for thoughts of revenge; those who conquered, distilled in a crucible of hardship . . .  So many brothers lost; companions of war, laid to rest. So many sisters gone mad; riven truce, wombs torn out & devoured . . .

Bitter rumination: last of his kind.  Unless seed is brightened by day; pioneering solace, with nature’s guidance.  Instead, the brink looms. Fatigue & depression setting in.  Long ruminations on the road in the guise of one who walked proud.  It’s true he did not fear, but he was breaking down.

- - -

Gravity of emptiness.  Prophetic sojourn.  Those who fled could not get away as those who went against it would never forget.

He’d been to the Land of Moab before.  Misted ruins of slain giants, original settlers of the Northern Reach . . . Obscure cast of future wars. These, his true ancestors, bartering deep in caves with a host of shadows.  Pledging their indifference to fire & resurrection.  Eaters of Stone, molten dwellers; hid in tombs of Bathys, subduing armies of the Earth . . .

It is no legend, he thinks, waking those who no longer whispered the pride of demons.  The rotting landscape was enough to remind them. All seals had been broken as all veils thinned – Sacrificing a ghost, with little foothold.  Wombs, cracked & bleeding, slowed them down – Brother could not wait!  He spat as the caravan halted.  All agonized eyes on him.  Soon, those bilious shepherds of the deathly art, would lead his brother to the leaden circle; domain of pyrrhic slayers, expert in ways of torture & alchemy.  They kill him over & over while keeping him alive – Stuffing him on plague worms until he shits his guts.  Filling his blackened cavity with precious gems.  Burying it in earth until ready to war for them.

- - -  

He’d seen others crucified in this way.  When sun first rises over its delicate feeling; spectral propagation, tinged in crimson & grey.  Eternal haze of billowing souls up against a discipleship of vacancies.  Fallen back one by one, choked on ash & human debris.  Over the first range of hills where clangor of war is heard.  Near to the heart of empire. While underneath, massive worms bloating prideless on a bed of rancid meats.  Gazing down the pit they left with the turpitude of Wallowers. Bred to be Watchers & communicators with the dead; sleeping through with perfect dormancy.

- - -

Clearly, valor is lost.  The light in its eyes has gone out – The few who stood beside him, leaning on the precipice of Moab’s sinking valley. Searching feebly in darkness to foreign shores.  They’d die for this . . .

Army of silent prayers & empty verses.  Even he found comfort in its impassiveness.  

His brother, real or vision, clawing his way out of that pit to greet them, as a turgid force dragged him back down.  Concentrated in that spot: all the depressive virtues of the grey race.  Glutting the world on myth & lassitude.  Nothing could be seen in those artificial beings, guarding the road at Moab’s gate.  Enlisted through ranks of distillers until nothing’s left.  Monstrous legends, waking nightmares, meditative & blind; without exit, without entry, unliving but alive.    

Artwork By Hermann Wohler

[uwmspeccoll]

Staff Pick of the Week

Illustrirtes Thierleben für Schule und Haus (Illustrations of Animal Life for School and House) volume one: Die Säugethiere (Mammals) by Dr. Hermann Dümling was published in 1875 in Milwaukee by George Brumder, and forms part of our George Brumder Collection of Milwaukee German-Language Publishing. I was intrigued by it because of its use of specific taxonomic nomenclature. Dümling uses a modified version of 19th-century mammal taxonomy, which breaks things down a little differently than we might be used to: Hand-Animals -- Monkeys and Bats; Crass-animals -- Flesh-eaters, Marsupials, Gnawers, Edentates; Hooved-animals -- Horses, Ruminants, Pachyderms; Finned-animals -- Seals, and Cetaceans (pg. 2).

The second volume, Die Vögel (Birds), divides birds into Raveners, Climbers, Perchers, Scratchers, Runners, Waders, and Swimmers (pg. 26).

The body of the text is 100% German, but the Table of Contents, index, headings, chapter titles, and captions include English animal names, as Brumder was publishing for a German-American audience.

The use of “earth pig” for Aardvark and “gnawers” for rodents is not merely a German-to-English translation error. Anotther book we hold, Elements of Zoölogy: A Textbook  by Sanborn Tenney, published in 1875 by Scribner in New York, also uses Flesh-eaters, Hoofed Animals, and Gnawers, but also has humans in their own order or Bimana:

However, Tenney does not support Dümling’s creative division of birds:

-- Charlotte, Graduate Student Intern

[l-homme-moderne]

Frères Limbourg

On déplie les Très Riches Heures du Duc de Berry. Les lumières se succèdent comme les siècles: tout bouge, tout coule. À poser notre doigt mouillé sur l’une de ses pages, on remarque que c’est plein et docile. Le doigt veut en jouir lentement, il ouvre, il caresse, il parcourt, il contemple: trois petites têtes flamandes, rouges et bleues, apparaissent dans ces lumières antérieures.

Pol, Jan, Hermann Limbourg, frères, ont le goût des images et des mensonges. On s’échauffe autour d’eux: certains disent qu’ils feront le pouvoir, d’autres qu’ils manquent des bras forts dans les champs. Ils ne savent pas qu’ils feront l’almanach d’un Moyen-Âge qui médite, des petits idéaux en enluminure qui ruminent sur des chairs de femme. Le vieux Jean le Magnifique va l’adorer. Ils n’ont pas encore touché la peau de la légende, non, ils l’imaginent à peine; c’est peut-être ce jour-là, quand tout trois ils courent dans l’aube du printemps. Ils descendent et voient la rivière dans les premiers rayons. Ils jettent leur bonnet rouge et bleu, le reste sous les feuillages. Les petits pieds goûtent l’eau, et au-dessus des petits pieds les hymnes et les lais, calmes, cent fois chantés; le vers est intime et rose comme Dieu. Ils suspendent leur geste, et dans ce royaume de France la douce sans pigment ni fenêtre sur le monde, Hermann voit ses frères et lui-même peindre ce vers, dans l’écoulement de l’eau, dans ce matin de nouveau monde. Pas grand chose, rien qu’un cadre minuscule; il pense qu’ils auront assez de lumières pour sonner Son sacre et fausser tout ce qui les précédera. Tournons la page.

On me dit que Charles VI, fou; le chaperon écarlate et les clairières qui s’enterrent dans l’août étouffant de 1392, l’ennui des boisées du Maine; Froissart nous racontera les cerfs merveilleux qui l’ont fui il y a si longtemps maintenant, emportant bien loin des feuillus pauvres d’ombrage une jeunesse éclatante, les forces. « Tout dressé aux grandes pensées » le chaperon s’est fracassé contre le sable. Les lettrines de sa légende ne seront pas fades; l’intensité du jour a braqué Sa parole sur sa houppelande de velours bleu, le front; la rubrique du Livre IV tracera de rouge cet idiot qui s’échauffe à coup de pensée sourde et brute; il beugle contre l’invincible et l’on ne comprend pas tout. Les oncles sont là. La malice traîne la patte, les échecs ruminent à bride abattue derrière lui, hennins et blasons mornes, hennins sur le motif des poignards, blasons qui marchandent le lys, les provinces, tous béats devant la démence et le midi épiphanique; ils l’encerclent d’ombres pauvres; ils guettent et piquent, les crochets en avant, le venin s’élève et à l’odeur de la petite bête qui se fige, ils la suivent; ils chassent le roi à sang chaud. Il déambule alors dans la fureur, gueulant des fantasmes, des peurs, le glaive a limé l’horizon en massacrant quatre compagnons d’un coup. La chronique introduit une bastringue d’acier qu’on peut entendre, elle trébuche elle aussi contre le jour, jaillit en feu; il est tombé, le casque qui l’a fait culbuté dans l’idiotie le regarde, stupéfait.

Le Moyen-Âge tremble au Mans, mais les feuillets de sa légende ne sont pas encore écrites, laissons alors toutes ces politiques, la perspective du bal des ardents s’enterrer dans la chaleur folle d’août, les frondaisons des bois creux. Passons la gloire de tous ces connétables et les Marmousets qui s’agitent, la relance de la Guerre de Cent Ans, tout ce qui est suspendu aux lèvres de ce roi fou. Les Frères Limbourg sont encore des bambins, ils glosent des chèvrefeuilles, la semaille fictive, soudain le gai savoir qui vient vers nous avec douceur. Ils le peignent, les heures sont bonnes. On se penche au-dessus d’eux, les trois petites têtes tombées, les doigts qui fouillent les mythes; un sous-bois de chair, de romances, des chants d’amour et de fantaisies comme des saisons, des hallalis mêlés aux semences et aux prières. Le bleu marial remue; les mains idiotes parce que naïves, pendent au-dessus de l’infini. La géométrie se détache un peu, allons il y a encore quelques coups de génie à faire. Les enluminures du Berry restent verticales dans ce siècle fait de bascules. Il y a la croix des routes, le chêne des partisans d’un côté, l’arbre des dames de l’autre; deux alluvions de la Légende. Les Frères Limbourg imaginent et sophistiquent déjà ce Moyen-Âge qui râle. Fiction allée aux banalités du jour, la guerre bouge en pacages tout près du Berry, des Limbourg, du bleu marial qui tourne au gré des pages. C’est tout ce que nous les petits gens ne sommes pas, nous qui reprenons le vieux Magnifique et ses lubies. Dans un jardin, une clarté qu’on ne reverra plus vient de trébucher avec passion sur une jeune des Marches ; elle entend Quelque chose qui ne ressemble ni au sang, ni au lait. La pucelle se lève, l’Histoire surgit.

Les Limbourg ne sont plus là, nous dit la chronique. La peste les a couché; les lumières chutent sur d’autres naissances.

[graphicpolicy]

Preview: Corto Maltese: Secret Rose

Corto Maltese: Secret Rose preview. This complexly plotted graphic novel is among Hugo Pratt’s most philosophical ruminations on the imagination. #comics #comicbooks

Corto Maltese: Secret Rose

Hugo Pratt (w & a & c)

Corto Maltese enters the crossroads of magic and the occult, astrology and history, religion and mythology in the first English-language translation of Pratt’s award-winning book.

Visiting the writer Hermann Hesse while researching alchemists with his old friend Professor Steiner, Corto drinks from the “source of the Alchemy Rose” and…

[bonpasboncom]

Insomnie : que faire pour avoir un sommeil de qualité ?

Les lourdes conséquences de l’insomnie chronique ne peuvent être ressenties que par les personnes qui en souffrent. Les autres ne peuvent certainement pas être en mesure de sentir l’impact de ce fléau sur la santé.

Vous souffrez de l’insomnie : que faire pour la traiter définitivement ?

Quelles sont les méthodes naturelles qui favorisent le sommeil ?

Quelles habitudes doit-on adopter pour ne plus éprouver de difficultés à dormir ?

Trouvez toutes les réponses dans les paragraphes suivants !

Insomnie : que faire pour la traiter avec de bonnes habitudes ?

Voici les habitudes que vous devez éviter avant de vous coucher pour ne pas perturber votre sommeil :

Éviter l’exposition à la lumière : La luminosité des écrans, la lumière bleue émise par les smartphones et les télévisions empêchent la production de l’hormone du sommeil (mélatonine). Il est donc préférable de dormir dans l’obscurité totale et de ne jamais s’exposer à la lumière bleue des appareils numériques comme les smartphones, les tablettes ou même les ampoules à LED avant d’aller se coucher.

Ne jamais regarder une montre : Si vous avez une fâcheuse tendance à regarder l’heure toutes les 5 minutes, alors vous devez absolument abandonner cette mauvaise habitude parce que ça prolonge l’insomnie.

Ne pas regarder de film avant de dormir : Il est à savoir que le fait de regarder un film (et surtout les films d’horreur) puis aller directement au lit va aggraver vos troubles du sommeil et vous empêchera d’avoir une soirée calme. Par contre, ça sera utile de lire un petit extrait de livre ou de roman.

Éviter le tabac avant de dormir : Les cigarettes contiennent des quantités importantes de nicotine. Cette substance stimule l’organisme et le maintient éveillé pendant la nuit.

Insomnie : que faire pour la traiter par l’alimentation ?

Un changement d’habitudes alimentaires peut vous aider à éviter l’insomnie. Il existe des aliments qui provoquent une hyperactivité physique et également mentale et qui nous empêchent de bien dormir. Voici quelques exemples :

Le café 

Les boissons alcoolisées 

Les boissons énergétiques

Les aliments riches en vitamine C comme le jus d’orange car ils ont un effet stimulant et excitant qui entrave l’endormissement

Les fritures

Les acides gras type trans

La margarine

La moutarde

Les protéines difficiles à digérer (contenues surtout dans les viandes rouges)

Par contre, il existe des aliments qui favorisent l’endormissement et surtout ceux riches en tryptophane. Pour combattre votre insomnie, on vous conseille de consommer quelques aliments parmi la liste ci-dessous avant de dormir. Certains aliments possèdent des effets calmants sur le système nerveux, d’autres contiennent des précurseurs de la mélatonine, alors que d’autres s’avèrent très bénéfiques pour avoir un sommeil de qualité.

Gruyère

Saumon

Lait chaud

Banane

Poivron

Dattes

Fruits secs (surtout les amandes)

Pois chiche

Essayer les plantes médicinales : une bonne alternative contre l’insomnie

Il existe des dizaines de plantes et herbes à propriétés sédatives. Ces plantes possèdent des effets régulateurs sur le système nerveux central et aident à lutter contre les troubles du sommeil. On vous donne les exemples suivants :

La racine de valériane : C’est une plante antistress qui est largement utilisée dans les cas de nervosité et d’insomnie. Si vous souffrez d’une insomnie liée à un problème d’anxiété, on vous conseille de privilégier la racine de valériane car elle possède des effets anxiolytiques et sédatifs.

La fleur d’oranger : c’est une plante idéale pour les personnes insomniaques car elle est reconnue pour ses capacités apaisantes et relaxantes qui facilitent l’endormissement. Pensez à boire une tisane à base de fleurs et feuilles d’oranger séchées pour soigner les troubles du sommeil chez l’adulte.

La camomille : Elle est utilisée pour lutter contre les cas d’agitation nerveuse et les troubles d’endormissement, ainsi que pour avoir un sommeil réparateur.

La lavande : C’est une merveilleuse plante somnifère utilisée généralement pour traiter les états dépressifs et les difficultés de sommeil.

Utilisez ces plantes en infusion avant de vous coucher pour profiter de leurs vertus sédatives et relaxantes.

Les thérapies de relaxation

Les thérapies de relaxation sont des activités qui aident à gérer le stress et réduire tous les facteurs qui peuvent provoquer l’insomnie. Ces thérapies luttent contre les émotions négatives qui sont à l’origine de la perturbation du sommeil.

La relaxation musculaire progressive et la respiration abdominale sont deux techniques largement utilisées pour améliorer la qualité du sommeil.

Conseils pratiques pour un sommeil réparateur !

Faites attention aux effets indésirables des médicaments que vous utilisez parce que certains types tels que les antihistaminiques sont capables de provoquer des retards d’endormissement ainsi que des troubles du sommeil.

Portez des chaussettes propres et confortables si vous éprouvez des difficultés à dormir avec des pieds froids.

La température de la chambre à coucher est un facteur très important qui doit être bien contrôlé. Évitez de dormir dans une chambre trop froide ou trop chaude parce que ça va vous garder éveillé.

Évitez tous les bruits qui peuvent perturber votre sommeil comme les bruits des montres qui font « tic-tac » ou encore les partenaires ronfleurs. Le calme absolu peut vous aider à bien dormir.

 Éloignez vos animaux domestiques de votre lit car ils sont capables de perturber votre sommeil.

Ne travaillez pas sur votre ordinateur et n’utilisez pas votre tablette la nuit avant d’aller au lit pour ne pas perturber votre sommeil.

Ne pratiquez aucune activité stressante avant de dormir parce que ça va garder votre esprit en état d’alerte.

Dormir sur un matelas orthopédique, confortable et de bonne qualité peut vous aider à éviter les troubles d’insomnie.

Ne prenez pas de sieste après 15h et essayez de ne jamais dépasser 20 minutes pour ne pas perturber votre sommeil la nuit.

Arrêtez toutes les ruminations mentales et essayez de vous libérer de toutes les préoccupations de votre esprit avant de dormir.

Le lit n’est pas un endroit pour pratiquer des activités diverses. Il doit être réservé au sommeil et également au sexe.

Prendre un bain chaud avant de dormir est une méthode efficace pour s’endormir rapidement et avoir un sommeil plus profond.

Un massage à l’huile essentielle de lavande diminue l’agitation et favorise l’endormissement.

Insomnie : que faire pour la guérir avec Destination sommeil ?

Vous souffrez d’insomnie : que faire pour dormir rapidement ? Quelles sont les différentes causes de l’insomnie et comment peut-on traiter ce problème d’une manière définitive ?

Si vous cherchez des réponses à ces questions, on vous conseille de découvrir le guide Destination sommeil ! Vous trouverez dans ce guide un programme naturel qui stimule la sécrétion de l’hormone du sommeil pour régler vos problèmes d’insomnie d’une façon naturelle. Dans ce livre, vous allez aussi trouver des conseils nutritionnels et des aliments qui permettent au corps de se détendre.

Cliquez ici pour plus d’informations sur Destination sommeil de Jean Hermann !

L’article Insomnie : que faire pour avoir un sommeil de qualité ? est apparu en premier sur Bon Pas Bon.

source https://www.bonpasbon.com/insomnie-que-faire/

[audiopedia2016]

What is CELLULOSE? What does CELLULOSE mean? CELLULOSE meaning - CELLULOSE pronunciation - CELLULOSE definition - CELLULOSE explanation - How to pronounce CELLULOSE? Source: Wikipedia.org article, adapted under http://ift.tt/yjiNZw license. Cellulose is an organic compound with a polysaccharide consisting of a linear chain of several hundred to many thousands of linked D-glucose units. Cellulose is an important structural component of the primary cell wall of green plants, many forms of algae and the oomycetes. Some species of bacteria secrete it to form biofilms. Cellulose is the most abundant organic polymer on Earth. The cellulose content of cotton fiber is 90%, that of wood is 40–50% and that of dried hemp is approximately 57%. Cellulose is mainly used to produce paperboard and paper. Smaller quantities are converted into a wide variety of derivative products such as cellophane and rayon. Conversion of cellulose from energy crops into biofuels such as cellulosic ethanol is under investigation as an alternative fuel source. Cellulose for industrial use is mainly obtained from wood pulp and cotton. Some animals, particularly ruminants and termites, can digest cellulose with the help of symbiotic micro-organisms that live in their guts, such as Trichonympha. In humans, cellulose acts as a hydrophilic bulking agent for feces and is often referred to as a "dietary fiber". Cellulose was discovered in 1838 by the French chemist Anselme Payen, who isolated it from plant matter and determined its chemical formula. Cellulose was used to produce the first successful thermoplastic polymer, celluloid, by Hyatt Manufacturing Company in 1870. Production of rayon ("artificial silk") from cellulose began in the 1890s and cellophane was invented in 1912. Hermann Staudinger determined the polymer structure of cellulose in 1920. The compound was first chemically synthesized (without the use of any biologically derived enzymes) in 1992, by Kobayashi and Shoda.

[hermannsthumb]

i have a soft spot for phone sex stuff, so like hermann buys his first vibrator and drinks maybe a little too much to build up the nerve to use it and ends up calling newt bc "his voice calms him" but that may or may not have just been an excuse to get newt on the phone

i love this so much.......idk if its meant to be a prompt but (winking emoji)

also this is pretty e-rated LOL i kinda just jump right in under the cut. 18+! beware! here are some pining pen pals

Masturbation, for Hermann, has always been a largely perfunctory affair. Stress relief. Part of a routine, relegated to furtive strokes with his hand and some discount body wash in the shower once or twice a week. He doesn’t make a big show out of it. He doesn’t use anything but his hand. His fantasies are rarely even that elaborate (he doesn’t allow himself anything that elaborate): the gentle touch of the hand of another man (nameless, faceless, messy-haired and reckless), the recollection of the young man (twenty-one) he’d kissed on a date when he was twenty, and as of recently, Newton. Newton smiling; Newton laughing; Newton allowing Hermann to ruck up his t-shirt and stroke his hand down his soft, soft chest, teasing him gently, touching him in return. 

(Hermann has one printed photograph of Newton, sent along with his friend’s usual weekly correspondence some months ago: round stubbled cheeks, thick glasses, mischievous smile, freckles. Hermann has other photographs of Newton saved to his phone, pulled from various social media sites—Hermann is not obsessed—as well, a single video of the man bookmarked in his browser. Newton is very pleasing to look at.)

In fact, these recent fantasies about Newton are part of the reason why Hermann is ruminating over the whole idea of masturbation in the first place.

They’re becoming a problem.

Lately, all Hermann can think about is Newton. His routine is entirely shot. He doesn’t bring himself off in the shower anymore—or, he still does, but it’s in addition to other occasions on which he brings himself off. He masturbates in the mornings, after he’s had a wet dream about Newton (which are distressingly frequent). He masturbates at night, when he can’t get Newton’s latest correspondence out of his head. And it’s true, the fantasies Newton stars in are fairly mundane, scarcely even that erotic, but they’re becoming less so each time. Hermann stroking a hand down Newton’s chest becomes Hermann toying with Newton’s nipple with his fingers, his teeth, as Newton squirms underneath him. Newton smiling and laughing becomes Newton beckoning him close, begging, breathlessly, for Hermann to touch him, to kiss him, to undress him, to—well. 

It’s the reason for Hermann’s current state of near constant sexual frustration. It’s also the reason for why—after years of relying solely upon his fist—Hermann has finally caved in and bought himself a vibrator.

It’s fairly small. It’s fairly discrete. Smooth. A nice shade of dark purple. Enough settings that Hermann won’t get bored with it. (And it was on sale.) The packaging it came in was discrete, too: a simple black box, with not even the company’s name written on the side. It didn’t mean Hermann wasn’t still mortified when he opened up his mailbox and found it shoved in, neatly, alongside a few bills and a new letter from Newton, and hurry up to his flat as quickly as possible with it tucked under his arm.

The letter lies, unopened, on his bed. The package lies, opened, next to it. Hermann lies next to both, vibrator in hand, stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, wondering how on earth he can possibly mentally boost himself up for this. 

His solution is to break into a bottle of brandy his brother sent him for his last birthday and have a drink. Or two. Enough so that the overwhelming buzz of anxiety making his skin crawl is replaced with a calming static instead. A more gentler buzz. The vibrator’s buzzing, too, though Hermann hasn’t touched himself with it yet. He’s merely holding it a few centimeters from his face, considering it.

In his peripheral vision, Hermann catches sight of Newton’s letter. Newton.

Maybe Hermann could use the vibrator on Newton. Maybe Newton would like to watch Hermann use it on himself. Maybe Newton would use it on Hermann. Maybe he would start by pressing it to Hermann’s chest, and trail it down, down, past his pubic hair, past his prick, nudge Hermann’s legs apart…

He should call Newton. That seems like an excellent idea, frankly. The line is ringing before Hermann even realizes he’s fumbled with his cell phone and dialed Newton’s number (and before he can second-guess himself). The line continues to ring. He hasn’t considered time zones; it’s late for Hermann, but Newton may still be lecturing.

Newton picks up before Hermann can talk himself into hanging up. Hermann switches off the vibrator. “Hey, Hermann!” Newton says. He sounds delighted. Warmth flushes, pleasantly, down Hermann’s neck, to his chest, to pool in the pit of his stomach; his erection begins to stir to life already. Hermann is very easily wound up, and he is very easily unwound. 

“Newton,” Hermann says.

“Hey!” Newton repeats.

“Newton,” Hermann says again.

“Uh, yeah,” Newton says. “It’s me.” He’s quiet for a moment. “You okay, man? You sound...tired.”

“Yes,” Hermann says, quickly. “I needed—er.” He stares at the vibrator. “...Well. Your voice calms me.”

Newton laughs again, a little louder. “It calms you?”

Hermann was tipsy, but he’s begun to sober up, fast, and now he wonders, perhaps, if this wasn’t a very good idea. He flushes for an entirely different reason. “Please forget I called,” he sighs, and makes to hang up, but Newton says “Wait!”

Hermann puts the phone back to his ear. “Are you upset about something?” Newton continues.

“Not exactly,” Hermann says. He thumbs the vibrator. “A bit nervous.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

For a moment, Hermann debates making up a problem. Something to talk through with Newton. Instead—the brandy giving him a bit more courage, the possibility of Newton reciprocating any advances he might make too alluring to turn down—he throws caution into the wind. “I bought a vibrator,” he blurts out.

Newton drops his phone. At least, that’s what it sounds like: there’s a rush of air, a loud clatter, and then Newton swearing, loud, as he presses it back to his ear. “Jesus, Hermann. You bought—”

“A vibrator,” Hermann says.

“I heard you the first time!” Newton squeaks. “Why are you telling me?”

He’s flustered. The notion pleases Hermann, oddly, especially seeing as Newton hasn’t hung up on him in a fit of embarrassment. (Maybe it’s not as one-sided as Hermann has always feared.) Hermann switches the vibrator back on. He decides to play coy. “I’ve never used one before,” he admits. “I’m not quite sure what to do. I thought you might’ve.” 

“Why—” Newton splutters, “you think I’m—I’d know—”

“You seem the type,” Hermann says.

“Oh, boy,” Newton says, still in that same, high little squeak. “Okay. Uh. Well. I do. I have, I mean. But.” There’s a noise, as if he’s readjusting his cell phone. When he speaks again, his voice is significantly more hushed. “I’m kinda in my office right now, dude. At campus. If I wasn’t—”

“I’ll be fast,” Hermann says. “I usually am.”

Newton swears again. “Holy shit. Uh. Okay.” Another small rustling noise. “Okay. Okay. I locked the door. Uh.” He laughs again, far more embarrassed. “I usually start at my, uh, chest. Then work down.”

Hermann presses the vibrator to one of his nipples; the resulting sensation, and the knowledge that he’s doing this at Newton’s command, makes his whole body shudder, a moan slip from his lips. “Ah.” He slides it over to the other and draws out the same response, only this moan is a little louder.

“Jeez,” Newton says, weakly. “Then. Uh. It depends on what kind it is. Sometimes I just kinda—press it to my dick for a bit.”

Hermann slicks his hand up with a small bit of lubricant (also new, ordered alongside the vibrator at the website’s recommendation) and gives himself a few light tugs. Just enough to slick himself up there, too. He pulls his briefs down, neatly, around his thighs. He tucks his phone under his ear. He presses the vibrator to his erection.

“Oh,” he gasps, almost instantly, “oh, Newton—”

“Sorry,” Newton wheezes out, “I gotta—” He swears, again, and then Hermann hears his breathing going harsh, labored, coming out in sharp pants and trailing into little whines. Newton is touching himself, Hermann thinks; Newton is touching himself to Hermann. Hermann switches the vibrator up a setting.

He’s overwhelmed by it all very quickly: the vibrations travelling through his prick, making his whole body tingle, Newton’s whimpering moans in his ear (Hermann, holy shit, oh, wow), the very thought of what Newton must look like on the other end—his cheeks flushed red, his eyes screwed shut tight behind his glasses, his teeth digging into his pretty pink bottom lip to keep from being too loud, to keep from drawing attention to himself, hunched over his cluttered desk with his hand shoved down his jeans. If Hermann were there—if Hermann could touch him (or, better yet, kiss him)...

Newton comes first, with a low, keening whine; Hermann quickly grabs a wad of tissues with the hand not clutching the vibrator and presses it to himself to catch his own release. His phone tumbles to the mattress. He drifts, pleasantly, into the fuzzy, lethargic lull of his afterglow—the best of any orgasm he’s ever had before—and only comes back to himself when Newton’s pants turn to low swearing once more, audible even from where Hermann’s phone rests. Hermann rolls to his side to press his ear to the receiver. “Holy shit,” Newton says, with a little giggle. “Holy shit, Hermann. Ha. Wow.”

“Mm?” Hermann says. He realizes he’s neglected to switch off the vibrator. He reaches out a hand to do so now; his limbs feel like lead.

“That was,” Newton says, “uh, hot.”

“It was,” Hermann agrees. He smiles lazily, though he knows Newton can’t see it. “Thank you.”

They’re both quiet. “You wanna do that again some time?” Newton says.

“I’d like that,” Hermann says.

[bonpasboncom]

Insomnie : que faire pour avoir un sommeil de qualité ?

Les lourdes conséquences de l’insomnie chronique ne peuvent être ressenties que par les personnes qui en souffrent. Les autres ne peuvent certainement pas être en mesure de sentir l’impact de ce fléau sur la santé.

Vous souffrez de l’insomnie : que faire pour la traiter définitivement ?

Quelles sont les méthodes naturelles qui favorisent le sommeil ?

Quelles habitudes doit-on adopter pour ne plus éprouver de difficultés à dormir ?

Trouvez toutes les réponses dans les paragraphes suivants !

Insomnie : que faire pour la traiter avec de bonnes habitudes ?

Voici les habitudes que vous devez éviter avant de vous coucher pour ne pas perturber votre sommeil :

Éviter l’exposition à la lumière : La luminosité des écrans, la lumière bleue émise par les smartphones et les télévisions empêchent la production de l’hormone du sommeil (mélatonine). Il est donc préférable de dormir dans l’obscurité totale et de ne jamais s’exposer à la lumière bleue des appareils numériques comme les smartphones, les tablettes ou même les ampoules à LED avant d’aller se coucher.

Ne jamais regarder une montre : Si vous avez une fâcheuse tendance à regarder l’heure toutes les 5 minutes, alors vous devez absolument abandonner cette mauvaise habitude parce que ça prolonge l’insomnie.

Ne pas regarder de film avant de dormir : Il est à savoir que le fait de regarder un film (et surtout les films d’horreur) puis aller directement au lit va aggraver vos troubles du sommeil et vous empêchera d’avoir une soirée calme. Par contre, ça sera utile de lire un petit extrait de livre ou de roman.

Éviter le tabac avant de dormir : Les cigarettes contiennent des quantités importantes de nicotine. Cette substance stimule l’organisme et le maintient éveillé pendant la nuit.

Insomnie : que faire pour la traiter par l’alimentation ?

Un changement d’habitudes alimentaires peut vous aider à éviter l’insomnie. Il existe des aliments qui provoquent une hyperactivité physique et également mentale et qui nous empêchent de bien dormir. Voici quelques exemples :

Le café 

Les boissons alcoolisées 

Les boissons énergétiques

Les aliments riches en vitamine C comme le jus d’orange car ils ont un effet stimulant et excitant qui entrave l’endormissement

Les fritures

Les acides gras type trans

La margarine

La moutarde

Les protéines difficiles à digérer (contenues surtout dans les viandes rouges)

Par contre, il existe des aliments qui favorisent l’endormissement et surtout ceux riches en tryptophane. Pour combattre votre insomnie, on vous conseille de consommer quelques aliments parmi la liste ci-dessous avant de dormir. Certains aliments possèdent des effets calmants sur le système nerveux, d’autres contiennent des précurseurs de la mélatonine, alors que d’autres s’avèrent très bénéfiques pour avoir un sommeil de qualité.

Gruyère

Saumon

Lait chaud

Banane

Poivron

Dattes

Fruits secs (surtout les amandes)

Pois chiche

Essayer les plantes médicinales : une bonne alternative contre l’insomnie

Il existe des dizaines de plantes et herbes à propriétés sédatives. Ces plantes possèdent des effets régulateurs sur le système nerveux central et aident à lutter contre les troubles du sommeil. On vous donne les exemples suivants :

La racine de valériane : C’est une plante antistress qui est largement utilisée dans les cas de nervosité et d’insomnie. Si vous souffrez d’une insomnie liée à un problème d’anxiété, on vous conseille de privilégier la racine de valériane car elle possède des effets anxiolytiques et sédatifs.

La fleur d’oranger : c’est une plante idéale pour les personnes insomniaques car elle est reconnue pour ses capacités apaisantes et relaxantes qui facilitent l’endormissement. Pensez à boire une tisane à base de fleurs et feuilles d’oranger séchées pour soigner les troubles du sommeil chez l’adulte.

La camomille : Elle est utilisée pour lutter contre les cas d’agitation nerveuse et les troubles d’endormissement, ainsi que pour avoir un sommeil réparateur.

La lavande : C’est une merveilleuse plante somnifère utilisée généralement pour traiter les états dépressifs et les difficultés de sommeil.

Utilisez ces plantes en infusion avant de vous coucher pour profiter de leurs vertus sédatives et relaxantes.

Les thérapies de relaxation

Les thérapies de relaxation sont des activités qui aident à gérer le stress et réduire tous les facteurs qui peuvent provoquer l’insomnie. Ces thérapies luttent contre les émotions négatives qui sont à l’origine de la perturbation du sommeil.

La relaxation musculaire progressive et la respiration abdominale sont deux techniques largement utilisées pour améliorer la qualité du sommeil.

Conseils pratiques pour un sommeil réparateur !

Faites attention aux effets indésirables des médicaments que vous utilisez parce que certains types tels que les antihistaminiques sont capables de provoquer des retards d’endormissement ainsi que des troubles du sommeil.

Portez des chaussettes propres et confortables si vous éprouvez des difficultés à dormir avec des pieds froids.

La température de la chambre à coucher est un facteur très important qui doit être bien contrôlé. Évitez de dormir dans une chambre trop froide ou trop chaude parce que ça va vous garder éveillé.

Évitez tous les bruits qui peuvent perturber votre sommeil comme les bruits des montres qui font « tic-tac » ou encore les partenaires ronfleurs. Le calme absolu peut vous aider à bien dormir.

 Éloignez vos animaux domestiques de votre lit car ils sont capables de perturber votre sommeil.

Ne travaillez pas sur votre ordinateur et n’utilisez pas votre tablette la nuit avant d’aller au lit pour ne pas perturber votre sommeil.

Ne pratiquez aucune activité stressante avant de dormir parce que ça va garder votre esprit en état d’alerte.

Dormir sur un matelas orthopédique, confortable et de bonne qualité peut vous aider à éviter les troubles d’insomnie.

Ne prenez pas de sieste après 15h et essayez de ne jamais dépasser 20 minutes pour ne pas perturber votre sommeil la nuit.

Arrêtez toutes les ruminations mentales et essayez de vous libérer de toutes les préoccupations de votre esprit avant de dormir.

Le lit n’est pas un endroit pour pratiquer des activités diverses. Il doit être réservé au sommeil et également au sexe.

Prendre un bain chaud avant de dormir est une méthode efficace pour s’endormir rapidement et avoir un sommeil plus profond.

Un massage à l’huile essentielle de lavande diminue l’agitation et favorise l’endormissement.

Insomnie : que faire pour la guérir avec Destination sommeil ?

Vous souffrez d’insomnie : que faire pour dormir rapidement ? Quelles sont les différentes causes de l’insomnie et comment peut-on traiter ce problème d’une manière définitive ?

Si vous cherchez des réponses à ces questions, on vous conseille de découvrir le guide Destination sommeil ! Vous trouverez dans ce guide un programme naturel qui stimule la sécrétion de l’hormone du sommeil pour régler vos problèmes d’insomnie d’une façon naturelle. Dans ce livre, vous allez aussi trouver des conseils nutritionnels et des aliments qui permettent au corps de se détendre.

Cliquez ici pour plus d’informations sur Destination sommeil de Jean Hermann !

L’article Insomnie : que faire pour avoir un sommeil de qualité ? est apparu en premier sur Bon Pas Bon.

source https://www.bonpasbon.com/insomnie-que-faire/