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Showing posts with label premeditate. Show all posts
Showing posts with label premeditate. Show all posts

Saturday, 16 April 2016

How to have sex with the same person for the rest of your life

The Guardian

 
‘Spending too much time with your partner may be the problem.’ Photograph: Microzoa/Getty Images


1 Accept that having sex with the same person for the rest of your life – unless it’s yourself (see later) – is hard and, at times, boring. But not impossible. The problem – actually, there are several and also lots of contradictions – is that the received wisdom has always been to spend more time with your partner to build something called “intimacy”, which will lead to The Sex. Actually, this may be wrong.

2 Spending too much time with your partner may be the problem. Do romantic weekends make you feel really unromantic and panicked? Seeing someone all the time is not sexy after the first few months. It leads to something called habituation, which must be avoided at all costs if you want to continue having sex with your partner. Habituation is when you stop really seeing someone/thing because you see them all the time, ie taking someone for granted, which leads to hating their guts. In one survey, a common answer to the question “When do you feel most attracted to your partner?” was “When they weren’t there.” This is because anticipation is a powerful aphrodisiac and distance lets erotic imagination back in, which leads to fantasy. Unfortunately, it’s often cruelly crushed when your partner comes back into view.

3 The major stumbling block to sex in a long-term relationship is that you’re after two opposing things: security, reliability – lovely anchoring things like that which make you feel safe – but you also want fire, passion, risk, danger, newness. The two camps are opposed. If you have one, you can’t have the other.

4 The answer is to try to get pockets of distance. Make sure you stay true to yourself. Do things for yourself and by yourself; socialise on your own sometimes. In another survey, respondents said that they found their partners sexiest when the partners were in their element: the life and soul of the party, doing a job really well. Being “other” to the person they knew as reliable and as their partner. Having sex at your partner’s place of work may be something to consider if you can avoid CCTV. You don’t want to watch yourself having sex with the same person over and over again on YouTube because you have become a meme.

5 All this said, you do need to spend some quality time together to keep the bonds going. Sharing good experiences is better than spending your money on stuff for each other. This is because memories of experiences shared become more golden with the passing of time, unlike mere things you get used to (see habituation). Also you can only throw things at each other in an argument that leads to sex if you are in a film starring Sophia Loren. In real life, it leads to hate and mess.

6 Masturbation is basically having sex with the same person for all of your life, yet no one gets sick of that. Why? Because you are safe to go into your own private head-place, and the chances are that there is a real dissonance between the erotic you and the you in the real world. The erotic you has no place in your every day life, the erotic you may not be very responsible (responsibility kills sex drive). The erotic you only has one goal. Orgasm. It isn’t the point, they always tell you that in sex columns, but it’s nice – otherwise, come on, what is the point of all that effort? It’s this distance that’s at the heart of keeping an erotic charge between you and your partner. Consider separate bedrooms.

7 Learn the difference between wanting someone and neediness. The first is sexy, the latter isn’t. Looking after someone because you want to is different from one person being cast in the parenting role to the other, which isn’t sexy at all and will lead to a lack of sex with your partner and, possibly, lots of sex with someone else who doesn’t need looking after.

8 Don’t expect your partner to be everything to you. There’s an oft quoted phrase in relationship circles: “don’t expect your partner to do the job a whole village once did.” Also be realistic: two centuries ago you’d probably be dead by the age of 50, now marriages can last longer.

9 But! Take solace in the fact that older people do have more sex. Last year, a study found that if you’ve been married to the same person for 65 years, you have more sex than you did at your 50th wedding anniversary.

10 The secret of sex with the same person for ever, says Esther Perel, the author of Mating in Captivity, is letting go of “the myth of spontaneity. Committed sex is willful, premeditated, focused and present”. She also suggests good tools for talking with your partner (or to find out things about yourself), for example, start conversations with: “I shut myself off when …” and “I turn myself on when …”

Saturday, 5 March 2016

The space between two balls is where cricket is really played

Minding the gap

by MARTIN CROWE in Cricinfo

Shane Warne could clear his mind of an unsuccessful previous ball to attack afresh with the next © Getty Images



The gap. This is the space between thoughts, between breaths, between fielders, between balls. They say to experience the gap wholly brings ultimate joy in what we do. In the gap there is nothing, and it's that nothing space in which lies the secret to our purpose.

As I contemplate the meaning of much my life, a life I now truly treasure, with dangers lurking, it is in this moment of nothing that I feel at peace. Awareness has taught me that previously I was always too quick to fill the gap with judgemental, premeditated masking and conditioning.

Batting is essentially about scoring runs, by hitting the ball instinctively and late, finding a gap in the field, whether it be over or through the field. Barry Richards, the great South African player, came to Auckland when I was 12 and remarked to a small group that it was vital to look at the gaps in the field, not the fielders in the field. That never left me and remains one of the greatest pieces of advice I ever received.

However, I often dismissed myself with predetermination to hit the ball into those vacant areas. I was constantly filling the gap in my mind with a busy traffic of thoughts; of this, that and anything else that randomly joined the gridlock building in my mind.

The mind needs constant clearing out of past and future concerns in order to function effectively, so by positively affirming that gaps must be found instinctively, the mind invariably seeks that wisdom automatically, subconsciously. This is when cricket is played best.

The gap between balls, that 30-second time span between when the last ball became dead and the next ball becomes live, is arguably the most important period in a batsman's innings.


I learnt in my third year playing for New Zealand that if I properly appreciated the gap between balls it would aid my desire to compile a long innings, especially under pressure in Tests or under duress in a limited-overs chase. Up until then I was a classic example of playing sublime innings of 30 or 40 before succumbing to an easily worn-down mind-body battery.

On my first tour of Australia in 1985, I began listening to some senior players and coaches talk about mind power. They spoke to me about my concentration routine, in particular. They emphasised that my innings were running out of energy too quickly, and suggested I switch off after the ball was dead and remain non-judgemental in the time before the next ball. That by doing so I would conserve a certain amount of energy, which could be used later.

The first time I tried it, in a tour match, I returned fresh to the dressing room after more than six hours in the hot sun, unbeaten on 242 at Adelaide Oval. The next innings brought 188, at the Gabba in the first Test of the series.

Now the wisdom was automatically written into my intellectual software. Awareness of the gap between balls didn't guarantee anything, but it gave me a better chance, once in, to make a big score, to convert starts and fifties into three-figure scores.

Cricket is such a complicated game that when the mind quickens, the mistakes invariably flood in. Great captains have the poise, the ability, to create a gap between thoughts so that the information they seek can come to them at the right moment.

There is no panic or indecision. There is none of this chasing-the-ball mentality. Instead there is a space they fall into that gives them the accurate assessment they need, and the decision comes accordingly. Michael Clarke has this in abundance, Mike Brearley and Ian Chappell had it, as did Mark Taylor in his prime.

Great batsmen have it too. Garry Sobers, Don Bradman and Brian Lara, to name a few, had the ability to clear the mind easily, enjoying the gaps between balls, and ever more so were focused on the gaps they found in the field.

The spin bowler who can access this gap mentality despite a swiftly completed over when he is being slogged all over is the treasured one.

Shane Warne had this ability to be in the present. At the top of his mark he could slow down the game if he chose. Even if the odds were stacked against him, he would clear the negative, letting go of the previous ball, and visualising the outcome of the next one, providing another piece to the puzzle, building his attack up, mounting more pressure again. By not letting anything before or after affect the creativity he needed to access for each ball, he was able to instinctively find the insights he needed.

So when we consider how important it is to have a clear-minded approach in cricket, to utilise the space between balls bowled or faced, between fielders' positions, we can appreciate that it is the gap we truly seek, mentally and strategically, to find the answers to the many questions we are confronted with.

If we are to widen that out to life itself, we can again begin to find that our peace and our creativity lie in the moments between thoughts and actions. When we can sit or stand still, even for 20 seconds, when we can hold off the urges to judge, or the old habit to overthink, then we really begin to open ourselves up to the truth, for the truth is in the present, not the past or future.

Look at any player between balls and study how he spends that time from when the ball is dead and before the next - whether it be batting, bowling or fielding - and try to sense the poise he has. Is the pressure building, is it neutral, or is it low-key?

Unless the play is boringly slow with the potential to kill the spectacle, it is a fascinating exercise to watch players on centre stage while the ball is dead. What is everybody contemplating? Cricket, to me, offers a glimpse of the way we live our lives, and this gap in play, before the next ball is bowled, holds the most intrigue of all.

That's why I adore Test cricket. There are so many more interesting gaps in play to appreciate. Tests are won and lost in these 30-second pockets.

Wednesday, 7 January 2015

Cricket - It's all in the angle

Jon Hotten in Cricinfo

How hard is it to deal with a ball that comes at you from "out of the umpire"?  © AFP
Enlarge
Imagine the scene: David Warner and Chris Gayle are invited to face up to the world's fastest female bowler. Their challenge is to do what they have done to many of the great male bowlers and hit the ball over the boundary. They not only fail to do so, they miss every ball in the over. Waiting in the pavilion, Kevin Pietersen refuses to come in rather than be embarrassed out in the middle.
As David Epstein describes in his wonderful book The Sports Gene, something roughly equivalent to the above did take place in baseball, and it may contain some valuable information for the development of bowlers.
Back in 2004, some of America's top MLB sluggers were invited to the annual Pepsi All-Star Softball game in California to face the fastest softball pitcher in the world, Team USA's Jennie Finch (a few months later, Finch would win an Olympic gold medal at the Athens games).
There are some key differences between baseball and softball. The softball itself is bigger, and the pitcher's mound is 43 feet from the batter's plate, as opposed to baseball's 60 feet six inches. Finch's fastball travelled at around 65mph, meaning that it arrived at the batter in around the same time that a 95mph fastball took to cover the longer distance. And to a top baseball slugger, a 95mph fastball is all part of the day job.
In practice at the All-Star game, Finch threw four pitches at Albert Pujols, a legendary hitter. He missed every one. During the game itself she struck out Padres outfielder Brian Giles and Mets catcher Mike Piazza.
Word spread. Finch took part in a TV show, This Week In Baseball, and struck out lots more top players. Then she met Barry Bonds, seven-time National League MVP, at a spring training camp. She threw 12 fastballs past him before he managed to connect, and he succeeded then only because Finch told Bonds where the pitch would go.
Another baseball legend, Alex Rodriguez, refused to face her at all.
So what was happening?
The key difference was the angle of Finch's delivery. She propelled the softball not in the slingy overarm style of the baseball pitcher but by raising her arm high above her head and then swinging violently downwards in a wide arc, eventually releasing the ball from somewhere around her knee.
A baseball, or a softball, travelling across their relevant distances and speeds, takes around 400 milliseconds to reach the plate. Because at least half of that time is required simply for the body to initiate any kind of muscular action, the batter is not simply watching the ball and then hitting it. There is a large measure of anticipation involved.
Over the course of a career, a baseball slugger has seen many thousands of fastballs, and in doing so has built up a kind of mental directory or template of what one looks like. Thus, as the pitcher's arm comes over, he already has lots of other occasions to compare it to, and the body reacts accordingly.
As Epstein points out, once the template is removed - as it was by the new angle of Finch's delivery - the batter is simply trying to produce an almost-impossible physical response.
Research has shown that the same is true in cricket - a batsman facing fast bowling is picking up a complex series of clues from the bowler's approach and delivery stride that aid in hitting the ball.
The other day in the Big Bash, Andre Russell was bowling to Luke Wright when the ball slipped from his hand and flew at shoulder level towards the batsman. Wright managed to lay his bat on it - actually it flew over the boundary - but his shot was a desperate swing, and his head was averted as he made contact.
The rarity of the beamer means that it doesn't fit into the pattern of the many thousands of other quick deliveries that Wright has faced up to, and so requires a different "template" to deal with. He was fortunate that Russell does not bowl at express pace. Bret Lee's accidental beamer to Shane Warne in the MCC game at Lord's last summer badly injured Warne's hand.
The information emanating from baseball isn't just about beamers and other fluke deliveries, though. It made me think about the low arm of Lasith Malinga, and how hard batsmen - especially those facing him for the first time - find it to pick up a ball they describe as "appearing from out of the umpire".
This is just a small change of angle compared to a baseball pro facing Jennie Finch, and yet it is hard for batsmen to have any sort of pattern recognition. Shaun Tait had a similar effect.
In a format like T20, where a handful of deliveries can have a big impact on an innings, it would be no surprise as the game develops to see bowlers introducing more radical changes of arm angle alongside other deceptions.

Thursday, 11 December 2014

On batting and bowling

Martin Crowe in Cricinfo
Lately there has been a lot of talk about the ongoing dominance of bat over ball. I don't buy it. Some in the game feel the bat is dominating too much and that that is why chucking has been allowed to spread the way it has done. Thankfully the authorities are not falling anymore for this.
There are moves afoot to increase ground size to what it used to be, to ensure the game's integrity stays intact. At times in the last two decades, it has bordered on looking a different sport.

----Also from Martin Crowe

It's all down to the feet - The cornerstone of batting technique is foot position and movement

To bat right, get your mind right


----

Whatever you make of T20, its role is to generate money and entertain, promote new territories, and provide a time frame that fits a new market; so that we, being an impatient society demanding very little time is used up, get to enjoy a quick fix.
In one-dayers, the rules can destroy the bowler, as Rohit Sharma did recently. Two hundred and sixty-four? What next? Hopefully after this next World Cup the late Powerplay will be scrapped. Perhaps the format should even be reduced to 40 overs to remove the need to contrive while securing better crowds?
In T20 the cry of "Cricket is a batsman's game" is a given.
When the game isn't tinkered with so much, as is the case with Test cricket, the balance between bat and ball sits authentically. Sometimes batting gets a jump for a period, or bowling discovers something new, but the balance is always there. What's critical for Tests is that the conditions encourage both skills to compete equally at all times.
The essence of Test cricket lies with the bowler. He starts the action, controls the heartbeat of the game, and determines the direction a game will take. In truth, bowling wins games more than batting.
The bowler is helped by knowing he and the pack he hunts with have ten wickets to take per innings. Ten good pieces of cricket. The batsman has no such definite clue as to what to achieve and aim for, apart from a large score, until he gets to the final chase and knows exactly what is required to finish the match. The batsman is simply on the receiving end of whatever energy and spirit a bowler can muster and deliver.
Let's consider the pros and cons for both sides.
The bowler has less mind chatter to deal with, more physicality and muscle to spend. He hopes the conditions give him a sniff here and there. He bowls when he is ready, he gets a drink on the boundary at the over's end, he appeals loudly, he sledges, he stops bowling at the end of his spell, he rests - sometimes for hours on end, until a new ball arrives, he has a 15-degree leeway to provide mystery.
The bowler is helped by knowing he and the pack he hunts with have ten wickets to take per innings. The batsman is simply on the receiving end
The batsman has one ball to end his journey, one moment of recklessness to create future doubt. It is felt the batsman will get himself out most of the time, and therein lies the trick. To delay his inevitable dismissal he needs to understand that batting is all about temperament and, in particular, about being in the present. If resolutely equipped and in the zone of playing one ball at a time, with conditions fair, the batsman can repel any type of bowler and go all day undefeated.
The batsman's essential requirements are mind control first, fast reflexes and agility next. He must react instinctively, trusting his conditioning to follow the ball in a split-second, removing risk of dismissal, allowing the easy swing of his bat to find the middle of his well-manufactured blade, to find the late timing to send the ball away with assuredness. If he premeditates, he risks everything.
The bowler often in the course of an innings needs competent fielding to complete the transaction. If all catches were caught, the game would be short and sharp, confirming that the bowler rules. Thankfully the fielder has a tough role too, and often determines whether the bat or ball wins the day. It's a fair point that catches win matches, and therefore the bowler relies a lot on teamwork to succeed.
In my time, two bowlers didn't rely on fielders much: Wasim Akram and Waqar Younis. Their team of the day fielded poorly, mostly, and so these two geniuses - subconsciously, one can only assume - developed the art of bowling full to shatter stumps, smash toes and bruise shins. A quarter of the time they dismissed batsmen with only an umpire to assist. As a duo they were incredible. They bowled long spells, mainly in tandem, mastered the technique of reverse swing, and had stacks of pace when required.
Of all the partnerships I saw in cricket, they stood out. Not far behind you would find Malcolm Marshall and Michael Holding, and Glenn McGrath and Shane Warne, lurking as the greatest combos of all in the modern era.
The key for batting, to counter the threat of the best bowlers on show, is in partnerships. You can't do it alone. The team that paired off the best when batting came off best in the long term. If you are smart you will stay close in the order to the player you bat best with.
I thrived on having Andrew Jones at No. 3. Unorthodox, steely, dogmatic, and unforgiving, Jones became the ideal partner for my style. He said nothing as he wore bowlers down, hitting so late, the bowlers were often convinced they had got through him. The bowlers did far more talking to him in a series than Jones did in his career.
I also enjoyed batting with left-handers, the left-right combo forcing bowlers to change line often, providing angles for leg-side scoring when they missed the target. On the flip side, I am not sure I was an ideal partner - intense, aloof, zoned in to the ball, zoned out to conversation. I wish I had relaxed a bit.

Hayden and Langer brought different styles to their wildly successful partnership © Getty Images
The best I saw in a batting partnership was the Australian opening pair of Matthew Hayden and Justin Langer. They brought different styles and strengths and set the scene for one of the greatest sides of all time to dominate.
Gordon Greenidge and Desmond Haynes were similar. Then there was Kumar Sangakkara and Mahela Jayawardene. They complemented each other perfectly, especially at home. Away from home there weren't many better than Rahul Dravid and Sachin Tendulkar; at home they were staunch - it was like bowling to a concrete wall.
The partnership was always the key to nullifying the bowling attack and getting on top. Great teams possessed no weak link, and batted with quality and resilience long down the order. No easy feat to find such a team.
When we look at the Test records of the finest on show, it's interesting to note the greatest bowlers averaged around 50 balls or so per wicket and the top batsmen 50 runs or more per innings with the bat.
If we consider four to five wickets as a fine individual bowling performance in a Test match, it equates to 200 balls bowled to achieve it. Batting to score 80-100 runs per match would require 200 balls as well. The balance for Test cricket has always been there, always will. The same game it started out as.
For what it's worth, in a new life, just for fun, I would choose to come back as Garry Sobers, with a modern bat, who could bowl reverse. You?