CUET (UG) entrance exam Question Bank Solutions

In the year of the COVID-19 pandemic, it should surprise no one that the National Green Tribunal has prohibited the sale and use of firecrackers during Deepavali in the National Capital Region of Delhi and in urban centres that recorded poor or worse air quality in November last year. The directions expand on Supreme Court orders issued in the past, and provide some concessions to cities and towns that have moderate or better air quality, by allowing "green crackers" and specified hours for bursting. These stipulations are to extend to Christmas and New Year if the ban continues beyond November. The NGT took note that Odisha, Rajasthan, Sikkim, Chandigarh, the Delhi Pollution Control Committee and the Calcutta High Court had already responded to deteriorating environmental conditions by banning firecrackers this year.

The tribunal's reasoning giving primacy to the precautionary principle in sustainable development over employment and revenue losses is understandable. As the impact of COVID-19 became clear in March, and there were fears of a case surge during the winter, it was incumbent on the Centre to work with States and resolutely prevent the burning of farm stubble ahead of Deepavali. This annual phenomenon unfailingly fouls the air across northern and eastern India, and imposes heavy health and productivity costs. In the absence of pollution from agricultural residue, there might have been some room for a limited quantity of firecrackers, although climatic conditions at this time of year, of low temperature and atmospheric circulation, would still leave many in distress. Only damage control is possible now, including steps to address the concerns of the fireworks industry.

Soapy' s hopes for the winter were not very high. He was not thinking of sailing away on a ship. He was not thinking of southern skies, or of the Bay of Naples. Three months in the prison on Blackwell's Island was what he wanted. Three months of food every day and a bed every night, three months safe from the cold north wind and safe from cops. This seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing in the world. For years Blackwell's Island had been his winter home. Richer New Yorkers made their large plans to go to Florida or to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea each winter. Soapy made his small plans for going to the Island. And now the time had come. Three big newspapers, some under his coat and some over his legs, had not kept him warm during the night in the park. So Soapy was thinking of the Island. There were places in the city where he could go and ask for food and a bed.

These would be given to him. He could move from one building to another, and he would be taken care of through the winter. But he liked Blackwell's Island better. Soapy' s spirit was proud. If he went to any of these places, there were certain things he had to do. In one way or another, he would have to pay for what they gave him. They would not ask him for money. But they would make him wash his whole body. They would make him answer questions; they would want to know everything about his life. No. Prison was better than that. The prison had rules that he would have to follow. But in prison a gentleman's own life was still his own life. Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once began to move toward his desire.

Soapy' s hopes for the winter were not very high. He was not thinking of sailing away on a ship. He was not thinking of southern skies, or of the Bay of Naples. Three months in the prison on Blackwell's Island was what he wanted. Three months of food every day and a bed every night, three months safe from the cold north wind and safe from cops. This seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing in the world. For years Blackwell's Island had been his winter home. Richer New Yorkers made their large plans to go to Florida or to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea each winter. Soapy made his small plans for going to the Island. And now the time had come. Three big newspapers, some under his coat and some over his legs, had not kept him warm during the night in the park. So Soapy was thinking of the Island. There were places in the city where he could go and ask for food and a bed.

These would be given to him. He could move from one building to another, and he would be taken care of through the winter. But he liked Blackwell's Island better. Soapy' s spirit was proud. If he went to any of these places, there were certain things he had to do. In one way or another, he would have to pay for what they gave him. They would not ask him for money. But they would make him wash his whole body. They would make him answer questions; they would want to know everything about his life. No. Prison was better than that. The prison had rules that he would have to follow. But in prison a gentleman's own life was still his own life. Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once began to move toward his desire.

Soapy' s hopes for the winter were not very high. He was not thinking of sailing away on a ship. He was not thinking of southern skies, or of the Bay of Naples. Three months in the prison on Blackwell's Island was what he wanted. Three months of food every day and a bed every night, three months safe from the cold north wind and safe from cops. This seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing in the world. For years Blackwell's Island had been his winter home. Richer New Yorkers made their large plans to go to Florida or to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea each winter. Soapy made his small plans for going to the Island. And now the time had come. Three big newspapers, some under his coat and some over his legs, had not kept him warm during the night in the park. So Soapy was thinking of the Island. There were places in the city where he could go and ask for food and a bed.

These would be given to him. He could move from one building to another, and he would be taken care of through the winter. But he liked Blackwell's Island better. Soapy' s spirit was proud. If he went to any of these places, there were certain things he had to do. In one way or another, he would have to pay for what they gave him. They would not ask him for money. But they would make him wash his whole body. They would make him answer questions; they would want to know everything about his life. No. Prison was better than that. The prison had rules that he would have to follow. But in prison a gentleman's own life was still his own life. Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once began to move toward his desire.

Soapy' s hopes for the winter were not very high. He was not thinking of sailing away on a ship. He was not thinking of southern skies, or of the Bay of Naples. Three months in the prison on Blackwell's Island was what he wanted. Three months of food every day and a bed every night, three months safe from the cold north wind and safe from cops. This seemed to Soapy the most desirable thing in the world. For years Blackwell's Island had been his winter home. Richer New Yorkers made their large plans to go to Florida or to the shore of the Mediterranean Sea each winter. Soapy made his small plans for going to the Island. And now the time had come. Three big newspapers, some under his coat and some over his legs, had not kept him warm during the night in the park. So Soapy was thinking of the Island. There were places in the city where he could go and ask for food and a bed.

These would be given to him. He could move from one building to another, and he would be taken care of through the winter. But he liked Blackwell's Island better. Soapy' s spirit was proud. If he went to any of these places, there were certain things he had to do. In one way or another, he would have to pay for what they gave him. They would not ask him for money. But they would make him wash his whole body. They would make him answer questions; they would want to know everything about his life. No. Prison was better than that. The prison had rules that he would have to follow. But in prison a gentleman's own life was still his own life. Soapy, having decided to go to the Island, at once began to move toward his desire.

At the end of March 2020, a poll found that in societies locked down to combat COVID-19, almost 40% of young men said they felt the absence of live sport more keenly than any other deprivation, including going outside. Those pining for some action received their first proper fix for two months on Saturday, as the German equivalent of the Premier League reopened behind closed doors. The Bundesliga is the first major football league to try to resume the interrupted season. In France, it was decided to curtail championships and award trophies on the basis of matches already played. In Netherlands, the season was simply voided. The unfortunate players and supporters of SC Cambuur, who were 11 points clear at the top of the second division, are understandably miffed.

The English Premier League is fretfully keeping its fingers crossed, hoping that Germany's experiment in "bio-secure " football works. The richest football league in the world hopes to relaunch its own competition sometime in June. Whether that is desirable or feasible has been the subject of fierce debate. If Project Restart is given the go-ahead this week, players are expected to begin non-contact training together, but the planning process has been fraught with difficulty. Some players have voiced deep reservations over safety. Protocols have yet to be finalised for a second phase, when full training will recommence. There is also concern that, after a long and unusual layoff, players have no hope of reaching proper match fitness before June. A glut of summer injuries might therefore accompany the 92 fixtures scheduled for empty stadiums, during a hectic seven-week period. The foreign secretary, Dominic Raab, has suggested that the completion of the Premier League season would "lift the spirits of the nation".

At the end of March 2020, a poll found that in societies locked down to combat COVID-19, almost 40% of young men said they felt the absence of live sport more keenly than any other deprivation, including going outside. Those pining for some action received their first proper fix for two months on Saturday, as the German equivalent of the Premier League reopened behind closed doors. The Bundesliga is the first major football league to try to resume the interrupted season. In France, it was decided to curtail championships and award trophies on the basis of matches already played. In Netherlands, the season was simply voided. The unfortunate players and supporters of SC Cambuur, who were 11 points clear at the top of the second division, are understandably miffed.

The English Premier League is fretfully keeping its fingers crossed, hoping that Germany's experiment in "bio-secure " football works. The richest football league in the world hopes to relaunch its own competition sometime in June. Whether that is desirable or feasible has been the subject of fierce debate. If Project Restart is given the go-ahead this week, players are expected to begin non-contact training together, but the planning process has been fraught with difficulty. Some players have voiced deep reservations over safety. Protocols have yet to be finalised for a second phase, when full training will recommence. There is also concern that, after a long and unusual layoff, players have no hope of reaching proper match fitness before June. A glut of summer injuries might therefore accompany the 92 fixtures scheduled for empty stadiums, during a hectic seven-week period. The foreign secretary, Dominic Raab, has suggested that the completion of the Premier League season would "lift the spirits of the nation".

My sister is a soldier. I remember when she came home and announced to our mother that she was going to enlist in the army. My mother replied, "You're terribly young. It's too difficult, challenging, and dangerous, you really should reconsider."

My sister Darlene said, "I'm 18, which is old enough, and through the army, I'll be able to make progress. Right now, all I can get is part-time work while I go to community college. I need to have a career, not a part-time job, I need a college education, and the army will pay for that when I've finished my tour of duty, so this is about my future."

My mother cried and said, "There is a war, you will be in dangerous situations.

I said, "Don't worry. They don't send women to fight on the front lines in wars, so they are not in great danger. If it was me that would be a different situation."

Darlene said, "Don't worry, I'm cautious, I won't take unnecessary risks."

Despite that assurance, my mother stayed worried. My sister went to training camp for three months, and when she returned, she said, "I'm glad I enlisted, it was a wise decision. Training was challenging, we have to get up at 5:00 every morning, the work was demanding, we drilled a lot, but we learned skills. You have to be on time, and you have to follow all the directions, but they keep you occupied, so you don't get bored. I like the other recruits in my platoon, we all supported each other in the exercises."

My mother said, "I'm proud of you, but I'm still concerned about your safety." "Don't worry, Mom. If I do get sent to the war zone, I'll be extremely careful."

My sister did go to the war zone when her unit was sent to Iraq. I had no idea where that was, so I looked it up on the Internet. Iraq is on the other side of the world.

My sister purchased a computer before she departed, and she showed us how to use it to send email. I'm glad she did because we sent notes to her on it every day, then when she could she responded, but usually not immediately. She reported the weather and the people, but she didn't describe her activities. Here's what she wrote in one note.

"It's extremely hot here, and we have to wear heavy clothes, which makes it really challenging, though, they are bullet-proof for protection. Most of the local people here are supportive, and the soldiers are great companions. Don't worry, you can rely on me to be careful, I know how important it is to be cautious. See you in September."

She would end every communication that way-don't worry, see you in September. But then September came and she communicated a disappointing message, "We have to stay longer; I'm not sure how soon I'll be returning. Don't be discouraged, I'll be there."

My mother checked the e-mail every day for the next week and didn't get a message. She was increasingly concerned, and then she got a reassuring note- "I'm fine, sorry I couldn't e-mail for some time, we were on assignment. Don't worry. I'm being careful."

So it went on. We waited and waited, and I worried, too. The news reports on the war on TV looked dangerous, and my mother would cry when we saw those reports.

October went by; then November; then it was December. My mother bought some presents for my sister and dispatched them by mail. She said, "I really wish Darlene could return for Christmas." Every time the phone rang or someone knocked on the door, she hoped it might be Darlene coming home by surprise. But she didn't get her wish, so Christmas was uniquely sad this year, not the holiday we had appreciated in the past.

Then on New Year's eve, the doorbell rang, and we rushed to open it. My mother said later she was a little afraid every time the doorbell rang that it might be someone to announce bad news, that there was a problem with Darlene. But this was the opposite, this was the best news we could have received. It was Darlene! We'll have a really happy new year now.

My sister is a soldier. I remember when she came home and announced to our mother that she was going to enlist in the army. My mother replied, "You're terribly young. It's too difficult, challenging, and dangerous, you really should reconsider."

My sister Darlene said, "I'm 18, which is old enough, and through the army, I'll be able to make progress. Right now, all I can get is part-time work while I go to community college. I need to have a career, not a part-time job, I need a college education, and the army will pay for that when I've finished my tour of duty, so this is about my future."

My mother cried and said, "There is a war, you will be in dangerous situations.

I said, "Don't worry. They don't send women to fight on the front lines in wars, so they are not in great danger. If it was me that would be a different situation."

Darlene said, "Don't worry, I'm cautious, I won't take unnecessary risks."

Despite that assurance, my mother stayed worried. My sister went to training camp for three months, and when she returned, she said, "I'm glad I enlisted, it was a wise decision. Training was challenging, we have to get up at 5:00 every morning, the work was demanding, we drilled a lot, but we learned skills. You have to be on time, and you have to follow all the directions, but they keep you occupied, so you don't get bored. I like the other recruits in my platoon, we all supported each other in the exercises."

My mother said, "I'm proud of you, but I'm still concerned about your safety." "Don't worry, Mom. If I do get sent to the war zone, I'll be extremely careful."

My sister did go to the war zone when her unit was sent to Iraq. I had no idea where that was, so I looked it up on the Internet. Iraq is on the other side of the world.

My sister purchased a computer before she departed, and she showed us how to use it to send email. I'm glad she did because we sent notes to her on it every day, then when she could she responded, but usually not immediately. She reported the weather and the people, but she didn't describe her activities. Here's what she wrote in one note.

"It's extremely hot here, and we have to wear heavy clothes, which makes it really challenging, though, they are bullet-proof for protection. Most of the local people here are supportive, and the soldiers are great companions. Don't worry, you can rely on me to be careful, I know how important it is to be cautious. See you in September."

She would end every communication that way-don't worry, see you in September. But then September came and she communicated a disappointing message, "We have to stay longer; I'm not sure how soon I'll be returning. Don't be discouraged, I'll be there."

My mother checked the e-mail every day for the next week and didn't get a message. She was increasingly concerned, and then she got a reassuring note- "I'm fine, sorry I couldn't e-mail for some time, we were on assignment. Don't worry. I'm being careful."

So it went on. We waited and waited, and I worried, too. The news reports on the war on TV looked dangerous, and my mother would cry when we saw those reports.

October went by; then November; then it was December. My mother bought some presents for my sister and dispatched them by mail. She said, "I really wish Darlene could return for Christmas." Every time the phone rang or someone knocked on the door, she hoped it might be Darlene coming home by surprise. But she didn't get her wish, so Christmas was uniquely sad this year, not the holiday we had appreciated in the past.

Then on New Year's eve, the doorbell rang, and we rushed to open it. My mother said later she was a little afraid every time the doorbell rang that it might be someone to announce bad news, that there was a problem with Darlene. But this was the opposite, this was the best news we could have received. It was Darlene! We'll have a really happy new year now.

Venus, the hottest planet in the solar system, has not enjoyed as much recent attention as Mars, as far as space missions are concerned. With surface temperatures of above 460° Celsius that can melt even a metal like lead, and a heavy atmosphere of carbon dioxide, the planet was considered hostile to life. This despite, it is similar in size to the Earth and rocky, so much so that it is often called the Earth's "sister planet". There was some excitement when the European Space Agency's mission, Venus Express, found signs of ozone, made of three oxygen atoms and considered a biomarker, in the upper atmosphere of Venus, in 2011. But the recent discovery of traces of phosphine, another biomarker, in its atmosphere has just given the search for extraterrestrial life a shot in the arm. Phosphine, a compound of one phosphorous atom and three hydrogen atoms, is given out by some microbes during biochemical processes. In an atmosphere rich in carbon dioxide, it is likely to get destroyed soon. However, the researchers estimate that phosphine forms about 20 parts per billion of Venus's atmosphere. This fact, when added to the hostile conditions on its surface, yields tantalising possibilities - of phosphine's survival through extraordinary chemistry and thermodynamics or the stubborn triumph of biology and life.

This finding was the result of years of careful study by a team of international astronomers led by Jane S. Greaves of Cardiff University and was announced in a paper published in Nature Astronomy. Prof. Greaves first identified phosphine in Venus's atmosphere in 2017, using the James Clerk Maxwell Telescope in Hawaii. Further study and precise observations using the Atacama Large Millimeter/sub-millimetre Array facility in Chile confirmed the suspicions of the researchers in 2019. The very caution exercised by the researchers in announcing the fact underlines the lack of knowledge about these systems and the need to make sure before celebrating the discovery of extra-terrestrial life.

Venus, the hottest planet in the solar system, has not enjoyed as much recent attention as Mars, as far as space missions are concerned. With surface temperatures of above 460° Celsius that can melt even a metal like lead, and a heavy atmosphere of carbon dioxide, the planet was considered hostile to life. This despite, it is similar in size to the Earth and rocky, so much so that it is often called the Earth's "sister planet". There was some excitement when the European Space Agency's mission, Venus Express, found signs of ozone, made of three oxygen atoms and considered a biomarker, in the upper atmosphere of Venus, in 2011. But the recent discovery of traces of phosphine, another biomarker, in its atmosphere has just given the search for extraterrestrial life a shot in the arm. Phosphine, a compound of one phosphorous atom and three hydrogen atoms, is given out by some microbes during biochemical processes. In an atmosphere rich in carbon dioxide, it is likely to get destroyed soon. However, the researchers estimate that phosphine forms about 20 parts per billion of Venus's atmosphere. This fact, when added to the hostile conditions on its surface, yields tantalising possibilities - of phosphine's survival through extraordinary chemistry and thermodynamics or the stubborn triumph of biology and life.

This finding was the result of years of careful study by a team of international astronomers led by Jane S. Greaves of Cardiff University and was announced in a paper published in Nature Astronomy. Prof. Greaves first identified phosphine in Venus's atmosphere in 2017, using the James Clerk Maxwell Telescope in Hawaii. Further study and precise observations using the Atacama Large Millimeter/sub-millimetre Array facility in Chile confirmed the suspicions of the researchers in 2019. The very caution exercised by the researchers in announcing the fact underlines the lack of knowledge about these systems and the need to make sure before celebrating the discovery of extra-terrestrial life.

Venus, the hottest planet in the solar system, has not enjoyed as much recent attention as Mars, as far as space missions are concerned. With surface temperatures of above 460° Celsius that can melt even a metal like lead, and a heavy atmosphere of carbon dioxide, the planet was considered hostile to life. This despite, it is similar in size to the Earth and rocky, so much so that it is often called the Earth's "sister planet". There was some excitement when the European Space Agency's mission, Venus Express, found signs of ozone, made of three oxygen atoms and considered a biomarker, in the upper atmosphere of Venus, in 2011. But the recent discovery of traces of phosphine, another biomarker, in its atmosphere has just given the search for extraterrestrial life a shot in the arm. Phosphine, a compound of one phosphorous atom and three hydrogen atoms, is given out by some microbes during biochemical processes. In an atmosphere rich in carbon dioxide, it is likely to get destroyed soon. However, the researchers estimate that phosphine forms about 20 parts per billion of Venus's atmosphere. This fact, when added to the hostile conditions on its surface, yields tantalising possibilities - of phosphine's survival through extraordinary chemistry and thermodynamics or the stubborn triumph of biology and life.

This finding was the result of years of careful study by a team of international astronomers led by Jane S. Greaves of Cardiff University and was announced in a paper published in Nature Astronomy. Prof. Greaves first identified phosphine in Venus's atmosphere in 2017, using the James Clerk Maxwell Telescope in Hawaii. Further study and precise observations using the Atacama Large Millimeter/sub-millimetre Array facility in Chile confirmed the suspicions of the researchers in 2019. The very caution exercised by the researchers in announcing the fact underlines the lack of knowledge about these systems and the need to make sure before celebrating the discovery of extra-terrestrial life.

Bronnie Ware is a nurse in Australia. She has spent more than a decade of counselling dying people. Over that time span, she began recording the top regrets that people have on their death bed.

After 12 years, she concluded that the most common regret of all was this:

"I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."

Why is this such a common dying regret at the end of our lives? And how can you make sure that you don't end up feeling the same way?

If you're reading this, then you probably have the power to make decisions in your daily life. It's rare that we are actually forced to live in a way that we don't want to live (thankfully). But somehow, many of us still end up wishing we had lived in a way that was more true to ourselves.

Here's why I believe this happens:

Anytime I find myself feeling stuck in neutral, it's usually the result of not having a clear target. I find myself doing work without defining what the work should actually be or hoping for a change without determining the underlying actions that would lead to it. In other words, I'm not being clear about what I care about and how I can get there. More on this in a moment.

Here's the result:

If you never draw a line in the sand and clarify what is really important to you, then you'll end up doing what's expected of you. When you don't have a clear purpose driving you forward, you default to doing what other people approve of. We're not sure what we really want, and so we do what we think other people want.

The grey areas in life usually arise when we haven't decided what we believe.

This is the position I think we all find ourselves in from time to time. And it's one reason why I think many of us end up living the life others expect us to live instead of a life that is true to ourselves.

I think often about how I can get better at living with purpose and how I can live an important life instead of an urgent one. When it comes to being clear about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, I like to use a technique that I call the Bullseye Method.

"If you didn't know where the target was located, you would never fire an arrow and expect to hit the bullseye."

And yet, we often live our lives this way. We wake up and face the world day after day (we keep firing arrows), but we are focused on everything except the bullseye.

Bronnie Ware is a nurse in Australia. She has spent more than a decade of counselling dying people. Over that time span, she began recording the top regrets that people have on their death bed.

After 12 years, she concluded that the most common regret of all was this:

"I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."

Why is this such a common dying regret at the end of our lives? And how can you make sure that you don't end up feeling the same way?

If you're reading this, then you probably have the power to make decisions in your daily life. It's rare that we are actually forced to live in a way that we don't want to live (thankfully). But somehow, many of us still end up wishing we had lived in a way that was more true to ourselves.

Here's why I believe this happens:

Anytime I find myself feeling stuck in neutral, it's usually the result of not having a clear target. I find myself doing work without defining what the work should actually be or hoping for a change without determining the underlying actions that would lead to it. In other words, I'm not being clear about what I care about and how I can get there. More on this in a moment.

Here's the result:

If you never draw a line in the sand and clarify what is really important to you, then you'll end up doing what's expected of you. When you don't have a clear purpose driving you forward, you default to doing what other people approve of. We're not sure what we really want, and so we do what we think other people want.

The grey areas in life usually arise when we haven't decided what we believe.

This is the position I think we all find ourselves in from time to time. And it's one reason why I think many of us end up living the life others expect us to live instead of a life that is true to ourselves.

I think often about how I can get better at living with purpose and how I can live an important life instead of an urgent one. When it comes to being clear about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, I like to use a technique that I call the Bullseye Method.

"If you didn't know where the target was located, you would never fire an arrow and expect to hit the bullseye."

And yet, we often live our lives this way. We wake up and face the world day after day (we keep firing arrows), but we are focused on everything except the bullseye.

Bronnie Ware is a nurse in Australia. She has spent more than a decade of counselling dying people. Over that time span, she began recording the top regrets that people have on their death bed.

After 12 years, she concluded that the most common regret of all was this:

"I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."

Why is this such a common dying regret at the end of our lives? And how can you make sure that you don't end up feeling the same way?

If you're reading this, then you probably have the power to make decisions in your daily life. It's rare that we are actually forced to live in a way that we don't want to live (thankfully). But somehow, many of us still end up wishing we had lived in a way that was more true to ourselves.

Here's why I believe this happens:

Anytime I find myself feeling stuck in neutral, it's usually the result of not having a clear target. I find myself doing work without defining what the work should actually be or hoping for a change without determining the underlying actions that would lead to it. In other words, I'm not being clear about what I care about and how I can get there. More on this in a moment.

Here's the result:

If you never draw a line in the sand and clarify what is really important to you, then you'll end up doing what's expected of you. When you don't have a clear purpose driving you forward, you default to doing what other people approve of. We're not sure what we really want, and so we do what we think other people want.

The grey areas in life usually arise when we haven't decided what we believe.

This is the position I think we all find ourselves in from time to time. And it's one reason why I think many of us end up living the life others expect us to live instead of a life that is true to ourselves.

I think often about how I can get better at living with purpose and how I can live an important life instead of an urgent one. When it comes to being clear about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, I like to use a technique that I call the Bullseye Method.

"If you didn't know where the target was located, you would never fire an arrow and expect to hit the bullseye."

And yet, we often live our lives this way. We wake up and face the world day after day (we keep firing arrows), but we are focused on everything except the bullseye.

Bronnie Ware is a nurse in Australia. She has spent more than a decade of counselling dying people. Over that time span, she began recording the top regrets that people have on their death bed.

After 12 years, she concluded that the most common regret of all was this:

"I wish I'd had the courage to live a life true to myself, not the life others expected of me."

Why is this such a common dying regret at the end of our lives? And how can you make sure that you don't end up feeling the same way?

If you're reading this, then you probably have the power to make decisions in your daily life. It's rare that we are actually forced to live in a way that we don't want to live (thankfully). But somehow, many of us still end up wishing we had lived in a way that was more true to ourselves.

Here's why I believe this happens:

Anytime I find myself feeling stuck in neutral, it's usually the result of not having a clear target. I find myself doing work without defining what the work should actually be or hoping for a change without determining the underlying actions that would lead to it. In other words, I'm not being clear about what I care about and how I can get there. More on this in a moment.

Here's the result:

If you never draw a line in the sand and clarify what is really important to you, then you'll end up doing what's expected of you. When you don't have a clear purpose driving you forward, you default to doing what other people approve of. We're not sure what we really want, and so we do what we think other people want.

The grey areas in life usually arise when we haven't decided what we believe.

This is the position I think we all find ourselves in from time to time. And it's one reason why I think many of us end up living the life others expect us to live instead of a life that is true to ourselves.

I think often about how I can get better at living with purpose and how I can live an important life instead of an urgent one. When it comes to being clear about what I'm doing and why I'm doing it, I like to use a technique that I call the Bullseye Method.

"If you didn't know where the target was located, you would never fire an arrow and expect to hit the bullseye."

And yet, we often live our lives this way. We wake up and face the world day after day (we keep firing arrows), but we are focused on everything except the bullseye.

At exactly 9 : 27 p.m., when dusk slips into darkness in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, the "light show" begins. It's June, and for two weeks in Elkmont, Tennessee, the fireflies pool their efforts. Instead of scattershot blips of light in the summer sky, the fireflies-thousands of them-pulse together in eerie, quiet harmony. It's as if the trees were strung up with Christmas lights : bright for three seconds, dark for six, and then bright again, over and over. It continues this way for hours.

As a child, Lynn Faust would huddle with her family on the cabin porch to watch the spectacle. They'd sit, mesmerized by the "drumbeat with no sound." And though they'd appreciated the show for generations, Faust never thought the event was newsworthy. "I'd assumed there was only one kind of firefly and thought they did a nice show in the Smokies," she says.

The natural world has long enchanted Faust. In college, she majored in forensic anthropology and minored in forestry. In her twenties, she circumnavigated the globe for three years, visiting islands you could only get to by boat, learning about cultures before they disappeared, pursuing underwater photography. Today, in her 60s, she's a naturalist who writes scientific papers and field guides about fireflies. But she wasn't always obsessed with the insect. In fact, her academic interest began only in the '90s, when she read an article by Steven Strogatz, a Cornell mathematician, in which he marvelled at a species of Southeast Asian firefly that synchronized its flashes. Highlighting how rare this phenomenon was, Strogatz noted that there were no synchronous fireflies in the Western Hemisphere.

This struck Faust as odd. It contradicted the light shows she had seen growing up. As she dug deeper, Faust found that while there had been more than 100 years of colloquial accounts of North American fireflies flashing in sync, scientists discounted those reports, attributing them to lore or optical illusion. Faust knew the truth that her Tennessee fireflies were every bit as special as the species in Asia. But how could she prove it?

At exactly 9 : 27 p.m., when dusk slips into darkness in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, the "light show" begins. It's June, and for two weeks in Elkmont, Tennessee, the fireflies pool their efforts. Instead of scattershot blips of light in the summer sky, the fireflies-thousands of them-pulse together in eerie, quiet harmony. It's as if the trees were strung up with Christmas lights : bright for three seconds, dark for six, and then bright again, over and over. It continues this way for hours.

As a child, Lynn Faust would huddle with her family on the cabin porch to watch the spectacle. They'd sit, mesmerized by the "drumbeat with no sound." And though they'd appreciated the show for generations, Faust never thought the event was newsworthy. "I'd assumed there was only one kind of firefly and thought they did a nice show in the Smokies," she says.

The natural world has long enchanted Faust. In college, she majored in forensic anthropology and minored in forestry. In her twenties, she circumnavigated the globe for three years, visiting islands you could only get to by boat, learning about cultures before they disappeared, pursuing underwater photography. Today, in her 60s, she's a naturalist who writes scientific papers and field guides about fireflies. But she wasn't always obsessed with the insect. In fact, her academic interest began only in the '90s, when she read an article by Steven Strogatz, a Cornell mathematician, in which he marvelled at a species of Southeast Asian firefly that synchronized its flashes. Highlighting how rare this phenomenon was, Strogatz noted that there were no synchronous fireflies in the Western Hemisphere.

This struck Faust as odd. It contradicted the light shows she had seen growing up. As she dug deeper, Faust found that while there had been more than 100 years of colloquial accounts of North American fireflies flashing in sync, scientists discounted those reports, attributing them to lore or optical illusion. Faust knew the truth that her Tennessee fireflies were every bit as special as the species in Asia. But how could she prove it?

At exactly 9 : 27 p.m., when dusk slips into darkness in the Great Smoky Mountains National Park, the "light show" begins. It's June, and for two weeks in Elkmont, Tennessee, the fireflies pool their efforts. Instead of scattershot blips of light in the summer sky, the fireflies-thousands of them-pulse together in eerie, quiet harmony. It's as if the trees were strung up with Christmas lights : bright for three seconds, dark for six, and then bright again, over and over. It continues this way for hours.

As a child, Lynn Faust would huddle with her family on the cabin porch to watch the spectacle. They'd sit, mesmerized by the "drumbeat with no sound." And though they'd appreciated the show for generations, Faust never thought the event was newsworthy. "I'd assumed there was only one kind of firefly and thought they did a nice show in the Smokies," she says.

The natural world has long enchanted Faust. In college, she majored in forensic anthropology and minored in forestry. In her twenties, she circumnavigated the globe for three years, visiting islands you could only get to by boat, learning about cultures before they disappeared, pursuing underwater photography. Today, in her 60s, she's a naturalist who writes scientific papers and field guides about fireflies. But she wasn't always obsessed with the insect. In fact, her academic interest began only in the '90s, when she read an article by Steven Strogatz, a Cornell mathematician, in which he marvelled at a species of Southeast Asian firefly that synchronized its flashes. Highlighting how rare this phenomenon was, Strogatz noted that there were no synchronous fireflies in the Western Hemisphere.

This struck Faust as odd. It contradicted the light shows she had seen growing up. As she dug deeper, Faust found that while there had been more than 100 years of colloquial accounts of North American fireflies flashing in sync, scientists discounted those reports, attributing them to lore or optical illusion. Faust knew the truth that her Tennessee fireflies were every bit as special as the species in Asia. But how could she prove it?

Once upon a time in a not-so-far-away land there were three blind mice. These mice lived on a small farm (as many mice do) just outside the city. The mice, named Arnold, Frank, and Edgar, were very cunning indeed. They found creative ways to steal food from the farmer and his wife, terrorize the other animals living on the farm, and even find homes for themselves all over the farm. The fight between the farmer's family and the mice was a continual battle.

Every day, the mice would come to the house to pillage and scavenge what they could. They would take whatever food they could find and scatter back to their home in the barn. Upon returning to their safe haven, a small crack in the wall stuffed with warm, sweet hay, the mice would plot their hunt for the next day. Every day, they scampered from the barn at lightning speed to find different food from their regular bread crumbs and spilled milk on the kitchen floor. However, one day the mice decided it was time to change things up from their normal routine.

"I think it's time we get some of that famous pumpkin pie the farmer's wife always makes," said Frank.

"Yeah! I heard that she wins the blue ribbon at the country fair with her recipe every year!" exclaimed Arnold.

Edgar, the quietest and most cunning of the mouse brothers, began to unfold his plan. He started this intricate plan beginning at the barn. At dawn, the mice would run to the house and enter from their traditional route through a crack in the bottom of the back door. Once inside, they would put on their disguises to trick the farmer's wife into giving them a whole pie to themselves. The mice decided to play upon the weaknesses of the farmer's wife. They observed her daily habits and saw that she had a kind heart and a loving nature towards all people. In order to gain her sympathy, Edgar formulated the plan around the mouse brothers posing as blind men.