Chapter 7. Chapter 8.
NOTE: Incidentally, I would not title a chapter of my memoirs “The Hard Years,” so as to avoid the assumption that that was when I worked in porn. People would either skip said chapter… or skip to it.
Chapter 7. Chapter 8.
NOTE: Incidentally, I would not title a chapter of my memoirs “The Hard Years,” so as to avoid the assumption that that was when I worked in porn. People would either skip said chapter… or skip to it.
Feel the feelings but cut short the rumination with the realization that negative thoughts are waking dreams and have no more inherent reality than sleeping dreams.
That it’s a worthy object of pursuit, as if it is a stable state. I think both the Taoists and the Buddhists have instructive views on the matter. In Taoism, the Yang contains the seed of Yin and one flows inexorably into the other. In this view, the rock bottom worst life has to offer is a time to rejoice because the light will follow. Whereas, when one thinks life is the best it can get, a fall will come. As for Buddhism, our happiness may reflect an illusion that we’ve momentarily achieved our desires, when desires are inherently great white whales. Aim for contentment. Experience happiness when it comes.
Absolutely. The IKEA Nesting Instinct has run amok, and Consumer is a definitionally discontented state of being.
Personally, I hate that I know what a duvet is.
The implication being that I’m not living it? I’m outraged. Desire for things to be what they aren’t is the mother of all suffering.
This sounds to me like a recipe for how to turn a great moment into Hell. Nothing special survives its moment. I’m with the Buddhists on impermanence — i.e. Everything is impermanent, (and the desire for things to be what they are not is the root of all suffering.)
Chemical interactions in (and between) my nervous, enteric nervous, and endocrine systems make me nervous.
Kindred Spirits: Thomas Merton, Jack Kerouac, and Zen by Edward C. Sellner