origin-unknown
Luckily, you can use CSS best practices with React.
The problems mentioned in the presentation, followed by some CSS-friendly solutions --
1) Global namespace: all selectors are global
Use a naming convention.
2) Dependencies: no way to specify that a block of markup depends on a particular CSS module
Use a build process and a naming convention that includes a component name.
3) Dead code elimination: difficult to determine when styles are no longer needed
Loop over components and extract CSS component names from class attributes.
4) Minification: can't minify class names in markup
Not a bottleneck, nobody cares.
5) Sharing constants: can't share constants/variables with javascript
Use rework/postcss.
6) Non-deterministic resolution: loading styles asynchronously can result in different results since specificity assumes later rules should override earlier rules and async load order is arbitrary
Use SUIT CSS to prevent collisions and normalize specificity.
7) Isolation: base component CSS can be trashed by authors of subcomponents, making it difficult to change base CSS.
Reduce responsibilities of base component CSS. Encourage use of modifier classes. Ban tag selectors from component CSS. Use a SUIT CSS compliance checker.
I use SUIT CSS with React and couldn't be happier.
I would probably dismiss it all as a dream state too, if not for the experiences I had - including really impossible stuff, like seeing future events.
You can certainly have conversations with other beings there, although I don't think there's a good way to discern the nature of those beings. They are intelligent anyway.
Some people view sexual energy as a fundamental power that can be used for a variety of spiritual purposes, so they suggest that it be sublimated or transmuted.
Maybe these things seem weird - and they are weird - but neither proves that the world experienced while "out of body" is fabricated by the brain, assuming that's what you meant by dream-type state of course.
It can be scary because we're essentially confronting the unknown, but concentration helps with that. Fear is a distraction that takes you away from a single pointed mind. When you recognize fear or worry popping up, you gently return to your object of concentration until it goes away.
However, you will often project things onto the environment subconsciously, so it may not be exactly in line with the physical world.
It's like there is a description of the world there that we can access, but we can also overlay our own constructs on top of that description. An unbridled mind fills the environment with seemingly random imagery and we experience dreams, but a concentrated mind sees the environment itself.
It's really not much different from being awake actually - sometimes you're fully aware of your concrete surroundings and other times you're lost in abstract daydreams, completely oblivious to what's going on around you.
As for "looking" at yourself, I usually wouldn't see my body, but I'd feel a strong magnetic pull coming from that area of the room. If I got too close, I'd get sucked into my body and wake up.
I believe data about the physical world is available during an out of body experience, but it's impossible to be entirely objective about it since, whether in the body or "outside" of it, we have no choice but to access that data through a mental construct, i.e., an experience.
Started when I was 16. Tried therapists. Tried SRIs, but side effects negatively affected "normal" time so I stopped taking them. Tried to figure out environmental triggers, possible food allergies, etc., but to no avail.
Had my last attack about 10 years ago, when I was 26. They started tapering off in severity from 22 onwards, and I largely attribute that to how I was dealing with the attacks.
The first thing I would do is tell myself that I was having a fight or flight response and that the unpleasant effects were the result of adrenaline pumping through my veins.
I would assure myself that I was getting enough air, so I wouldn't fall into a cycle of hyperventilation. This was always the hardest part. I had to wrestle with my breathing continuously.
Over time, I became very sensitive to changes in my breathing patterns and would start working on breath control as soon as it became irregular. This one simple trick eventually stopped my anxiety issues altogether, and now psychologists hate me!
I can look back on this now as a very long period of forced mindfulness meditation. It's probably no coincidence that I had a lot of mystical experiences during this phase.
The key thing is I wasn't doing battle with a monster. I was killing its babies. In fact, if I was a therapist, I would advise all of my patients to kill the babies. You should kill the babies too!
Kill. The. Babies.