Entrainment Vs Entertainment

People often ask me, when they first see the word "entrainment" if I meant "entertainment." We all know what entertainment is, and because I am a performing musician, people assume that I have misspelled the word entertainment, but no, entrainment is very, very different!

Think of a time when you went to a concert of any kind and when the music started, the rhythmic nature of it made you start clapping, tapping or moving your whole body in synch with the rhythm! That's entrainment! The phenomenon of entrainment was named in the Journal "Cortex." This was written as the abstract of an article on entrainment:

"Wherever human beings live, and however they may organize their affairs, they gather from time to time to sing and dance together, often in a ritual setting. In doing so they synchronize their voices and bodily movements to a shared, repeating interval of time, the musical pulse, beat or tactus. We take this capacity to "entrain" to an evenly paced stimulus. (isochrony) so much for granted that it may come as a surprise to learn that from a biological point of view such behavior is exceptional. But it is not altogether unique."

So how does this apply to surgery? One of the reasons that music is so powerful during surgery is that the pulse of the music entrains your heartbeat and breathing, even when you're under general anesthesia. Many people believe that when you're under anesthesia you can't actually "hear" the music. That's where the difference between entertainment and entrainment comes in.

The idea began to take shape in my mind that some people in comas had been observed for years, tapping a toe or foot or finger, in rhythm with music being played or sung in the room. Some people would awaken from lengthy comas, reporting that they ha indeed heard and appreciated music that was played or sung to them while in a coma.

After researching similar phenomena during surgery, I found that hundreds of people each year awaken from general anesthesia saying that they heard not only conversations during their surgery, they heard music that was being played through speakers, intended for the doctors. They also heard, during certain surgeries, the sound of drills, hammers and saws!! This is when I began wondering if music that would start the entrainment process, played through super-lightweight headphones, might not be a wonderful thing.

Before I proceeded further, I was advised to get a U.S. Patent, which I did, and we now have the only patented process for choosing the most successful music for starting the entrainment process for the patient. Once the patient's heart-rate, breathing, and emotional state are entrained to the music, the patient stays relaxed during the surgery and less anesthesia and other meds are required to keep the patient asleep and comfortable during whatever procedure they are undergoing.

Today, our Surgical Serenity Solution provides this calm and relaxing process to patients around the country. After researching the very best music for entrainment, I have come up with a playlist that is soothing, comforting, and starts the entrainment process. If you are having surgery in the near future, please consider using music, through lightweight, cordless headphones!

By Dr. Alice Cash

The Father of a King (2006-2012; Updated 2014)

When his first child of his second marriage-a boy, was old enough to attend college, he found him a private college to attend, and sent him to medical school, he was very proud he could do that with the money in which he sold his wife's condo for, to pay for the college tuition, although they had another home, the condo was an investment, which they rented out.

He, the father, felt as if he came from a line of kings. And his son played the game, of course he was. So for nearly two years he just paid the bills, the tuition- giving it to the boy, to pay for the schooling, and watched his investment money dwindle to zero.

Fine, his uncle brought up: how can my brother-in-law's boy, watch so much television in the afternoons, and then just fall to sleep watching it, wake up whenever, rest the rest of the afternoon, and just mosey about the house and cafe, and not have to study to pass those heavy-duty school tests, he must be a genus! I mean this was obvious to the uncle, who ate at their restaurant every day, but evidently not to the Father of a king, or the boy's family per se.

And it was at the end of that second year, the father got a notice that his son was not doing not so well in college, that he should make arrangements to find future schooling elsewhere, and perhaps a different career, in some other area than medical.

Well, this was a blow not only to the father, but the mother as well. But why was he doing so bad, was never made clear. Thus, he went to teller school, to become a bank teller, yes, a bank teller of all things-from a medical career to a bank teller, to a department store teller, to being unemployed, all in the following additional two years. But the kicker is this: he was doing badly because he was giving his tuition money to his girlfriend, he wasn't for the most part, attending college those last several months. Yes, I said girlfriend, who was also working on a professional career, can you beat that. Then when she graduated, she flew the coop, and went to another city, and the father of the king, and his wife, were stultified over the matter, but what can you do. Just go cook some more goulash, or chicken or whatever-get it off your mind it will madden you. Or it would me!

Now I got to backtrack a bit, before all this took place, this other situation took place.

The father of the king, inherited $40,000-dollars. And his daughter of his second family, was coming of age to attend college. But he had two other daughters from a previous marriage, both in their mid-twenties, both having finished college, one married, the other one had a good and steady job, - both like the father, thinking highbrow thoughts.

One wanted their father to put money down on a condo for her, the other wanted to pay up some bills- and they wanted the $40,000-dollars to do it with; the apple doesn't fall far from the cart, as they say, or tree: these two daughters were evidently princess' of a grandfather king.

"I'll look into it right away," he told both of them, and he did by bring the issue up to his present wife, he told her, "They're my children from before you; I'll attend to it myself."

(Now before I go any further, let me point out this: the house they now live in is hers, inherited from her family, the car he drives is hers from her work money, the land he will eventually sell, is the land she has inherited. So you see, what is his, is his, and what is hers is his... if not so it would seem so... )

And the two daughters, played the game, as if he came from a line of kings, and they too.

Then in a week he had signed the papers for the daughter's apartment-she per near hogtied him inside the lawyers office to make sure he signed on the dotted line; and he sent his other daughter the other $20,000-dollars- the very one that was rude to him when he had come visiting for a long spell, and was told often: "Are you still here?"

Nobody could tell him what to do, I mean nobody on either side of the globe, could tell the father of the king what to do.

He had the money, he bought their love.

"All right" said his other youngest daughter, the one from the present marriage, the daughter now ready to attend college: "which college are you expecting me to attend?" she asked the father. I mean all the money was gone.

He had sold some of his wife's land that she had inherited from her family, invested it into a café. He made a little profit from it. It was tight, but he figured he could afford to have her attend the area's National University, -it wasn't all that prestigious- but it would have to do.

It was good thinking, businesslike thinking for once, but she couldn't pass the tests either, so he put her into a private college-I hate to say it but I will, like brother like sister, although she had a little more stamina, and better grades, and fortitude.

And she played the game just like her two older half-sisters played, as if he came from a line of kings, of course he did.

And as the business flourished-the café business, he became boorish, ill-mannered, and he lost customers, he told his family and friends "Keep out of my business," no one on either side of the globe could tell him otherwise.

"All right, if that's the way you feel about it," they all said, complied, then inferred: to your own business. And they stopped eating at his café-wouldn't you?

Well, the kids never helped much-that same old thing: sister like brother, and there were two brothers, one younger one older, the younger one not yet ready for college, and perhaps will never have the chance to get ready, and if given the chance, what then? But that's yet to be seen, they have good godparents, with deep pockets, at least the younger boy does.

By Dennis Siluk Dr.h.c.

What you To Know About Psychic Reading

How great would it be to know what the other person is thinking? It would be great if you could be able to know the questions that you will be asked in an interview, which girl will say yes to your proposal, and who is planning bad things about you. Having the ability to sense a storm or an earthquake before it hits you is great, isn't it?

What is Psychic Reading?

Psychic reading is the ability of a person to sense things that are beyond the perception of many people. As cool as it sounds, this would mean that a person with psychic reading abilities is capable of perceiving more than an average human being. This is usually said to be magic to a layman.

How do they do that?

Is it possible that all people who claim to have psychic abilities are psychic readers? That's debatable to an extent. But yes, there is a possibility that some people can tell more things with their senses and cognitive ability which has evolved differently in comparison to other people.

People who do that do it with more evolved perception or through highly developed normal sensing capabilities. This may include highly improved sensitivity to touch, sight, or sound.

Different types of Psychic Reading

As mentioned before, a psychic reader has higher abilities and knowledge than an average person. Although, a psychic reader has higher abilities than a normal person, there are different types of psychic readers. The psychic readers usually differ on the sense of perception.

Some of the great abilities in different psychic readers include: aura reading, Playing card reading (also known as Cartomancy), Astrology, Numerology, Palm reading, Rune reading, Distant reading, Tarot reading (also a form of Cartomancy) and Psychometry.

If you want a psychic reader you should look for one with the abilities that you are interested in. In addition to using his abilities, a psychic reader also uses his divination tools in his work.

Many people usually don't differentiate between a psychic ability and divination tool. The truth is that the two are very different.

A psychic ability is something that is untouchable while a divination tool is a tangible thing that is usually used to delve into what is going on beyond the surface of the situation. The tool is also used to gain insight especially if a person is interested in exploring what is likely to unfold.

By P K Martin

A Cool Saturday in Athens ((1995) (Poetic Prose))

I must have asked a dozen times in my lifetime, others "What's the real meaning of life; what is happiness," and I didn't really want a strict religious answer, nor a strict, secular answer, just one from the heart, if you know what I mean, no philosophical jargon, or Shakespearean Sonnets to explain the simplicity I was looking for.

To be quite honest and frank, I never got a good answer. Matter of fact, what I got was folks thinking I was quizzing them, or presenting them with a trick question, surely a hard question because no one could really answer it to my liking. When in essence, it was straight forward, as straight and forward as anyone could get, or make it. For the most part the question was avoided with smirks, and smiles, and pats on the back, and then back to whatever the conversation was prior to my little jaunt, as it was accepted as.

But this all came to focus one day when I was in Athens, Greece. It was a Saturday, a cool day, in 1995.

I walked down to an old park area, lots of high foliage, weeds and grass, and open spaces, and high burly and bushy trees, also in the distance, was an old ruin's, a kind of Parthenon style of ruin's, dating to about 400 B.C., high pillars and all, Corinthian style, it was constructed for the legendary Theseus, so I was told, which Mary Renault in her two books so heroically, with attention to detail, describes: "The King Must Die," and "The Bull from the Sea."

As I looked about, realizing it was about lunch time, I saw several small groups, they looked like little packs of individuals, some Jews, some Greeks, some Turks-I suppose if we sorted out religions here, we had a sort of triangle, the Hebrews, Muslims, and Christians. Not that it mattered it was just so. A few made the sign of the cross, a few put their hands and palms up towards the heavens, a few were counting beads, then they pulled out bread and sausage and some cheeses from their baskets, and passed a bottle of wine around. A few had bottles of beer, and one person was playing something like the mandolin, while a few toddlers tried to dance.

They were all sitting around in circles, for the most part.

Far-off, there were a group of women, in a circle, with a woman in the middle of the circle, and everyone holding their skirts high and low, so you could not see what was going on, and no one needed to know beyond that.

There were old men, young women, kids, just a good assortment of the cross-cultural populist: eating, drinking, dancing, breathing in the cool and fresh air-a few steps away from the busy carbon dioxide streets of Athens, talking to one another, sharing conversations, thanking God for this day.

I said to myself: how can I not know what happiness is, or for that matter, the purpose of life, it's right in front of you.

Here was the thing my heart was looking for, that I felt the world should have more of.

Funny as I write this out, I was raised in an extended family, Russian-American, and every weekend, on Sundays, that's exactly what my family would do, all the relatives got together, ate at our home (my Grandfather and mother raised me) and the family drank some vodka, and ate sausage and bread, and cheeses, and talked until late afternoon, and us kids played, wherever. And sometimes I could hear the old 78-records playing. Hick, I didn't need to search for what happiness was, or the purpose of life, I had it in my pocket all the time, and I just forgot it was there.

Need I say more!

By Dennis Siluk Dr.h.c.