Many times I have attained a desire, but it fell short of how I thought it would make me feel. So instead of denying a desire or clawing my way toward its materialization, I try and focus on the feeling I’d want if I attained that desire.
Through that feeling, I get the essence of what I wanted, if not the materialization. Ironically, the material things I had wanted—or something even better—seem to follow. You can attribute that to magic or psychology or a mixture of both, but I’m not interested in arguing about something that indeterminable. I just go with the cliché and try for positivity.
People may have a claim to your actions, but I believe no one has a claim to your thoughts or feelings. Perhaps you owe money for a service or good, but you aren’t obligated to feel guilty or worthless because you made a mistake or someone is suffering more than you. I believe it’s your right to feel happy or upbeat under the worst of circumstances, no matter how much society may frown on it. It’s probably practical not to express it, but you get to think and feel however you want to think and feel.
But then again, those are just my thoughts and feelings on the matter.
The search for meaning becomes increasingly meaningless within giant engines of socioeconomic change, which are temporary blips on a tiny planet in a vast galaxy in the probable infinity of the universe and beyond.
However, while I may not be able to capture it in words and structures, meaning becomes viscerally apparent when I enjoy the mystery and appreciate what’s around me.
I would rather be a cautionary tale born from pursuit of betterment, than a cautionary tale born from lack of audacity. I don’t want to age into a fretful shadow, haunted by regret and emaciated dreams.
Even when I engage in outward effort, I aim for an inner sense of ease and positive development. In doing so, I believe I’m aligning myself with an existential flow, giving birth to meaning in what seems to be—by our most rigorous scientific measures—a meaningless world (I’m a speck on a rock in the vastness of space, limited to conjecture when it comes to our total reality).
When I’m doing this correctly, I don’t have to make sense of everything, because it all makes sense at a soul-deep level. I believe this is my birthright as a temporary resident of the physical world.
Comparison and contrast are how we build linear narratives. Without the differences born from time and space, we could never go on adventures or tell any stories. They’re the fundamental building blocks behind creation and expansion.
But all too often, we use comparison/contrast to make ourselves miserable, to deem ourselves lesser than others with “more.” Ironically, those with “more” are often revealed to also be miserable, driven to view themselves as “lesser” than so-and-so through comparison and contrast.
I’d rather enjoy my untapped potential—have fun improving my position relative to others, or relative to where I used to be. Honestly, when I’m lost in the throes of self-improvement (which imo honors the need for relaxation and recovery), I forget all about everyone else.
Ironically, I can tap into fulfillment by intellectualizing futility. The cosmos will expand and contract, rendering all my concerns into laughable insignificance. My worries will wash away in a river of time. So I’ll relax into simple pleasures—the feel of hot water on my skin, green trees that rustle in the sun, cool blankets sliding against me.
When I intellectualize my actions into monumental struggles, I am often unable to viscerally appreciate, even when I’m “winning.” My enjoyment is tied to a narrative where I’m constantly fretting over my relative position, which is always being eroded by imagined opponents and unrealized circumstance.