The unpleasantness of the world and the darkness of self need not be demonized, for in gazing into their depths, we can humble ourselves by checking our “good” preconceptions against their seeming opposites.
And we can also garner clues about which dark path we must travel to come into a place of being that makes light and dark into a wondrous lie—a place which some refer to as “the transcendent,” or “the sublime.”
There really are no words for it, (in my opinion), if it even exists.
Why glorify the label of [artist/warrior/spiritual/etc.]? Why not just sacrifice or indulge short-term comfort for long-term fulfillment, as well as sacrifice or indulge any paradigm or dogma that will propagate long-term fulfillment?
In this way, one simply solves problems and glimpses the deeper truths that arise from function. Other people may or may not assign labels to that, they may or may not build systems around it, but that’s their prerogative.
Because the [artist/warrior/spiritualist/whatever] is too busy dealing with what is presently relevant, to worry about the grandiosity of transient labels.
When I think deeply on the “mundane” or the “trivial,” I find that the lessons I take from these supposedly irrelevant phenomena apply to the “grandiose” and the “mystical.”
And in this humbling of perception, I experience a leveling of my soul, where I can enjoy the beauty in pain, the sorrow in beauty, and—if there is some order underlying all of existence—the resonant peace that seems to constantly tell me to enjoy what I’m doing, and to enjoy what’s in front of me…
Because it will all fade away soon enough.
I have experimented with hardship and I have experimented with indolence. I performed these experiments in my younger days, when I cared greatly about what society thought about me. Now, as I get older, I don’t care so much, and I have found myself experimenting with a new state.
I call it “harmony.”
I’ve tried enjoying lethargy, as well as a slow-tempo life. It may work for some, but not for me.
Once I realized that I didn’t enjoy lazing about, and that death and failure were guarantees, I also realized that there was no excuse not to apply myself.
In the past, I have found myself in the grip of behaviors that cause me to wonder “why did I act that way? I knew that the outcome would be undesirable.” I began to realize, only after sufficient introspection, that if I don’t acknowledge my tendencies and the reasons behind them, I might as well have no free will at all. Without awareness of my faults and an aggressive stance toward addressing them, I find myself completely at the mercy of my design and past experiences, doomed to enact the same patterns again and again.
This guides my interactions with other people; if I notice the same behaviors arising again and again, I do not judge them as villainous. I simply see them as a different version of myself, for in a very real sense, I have been exactly where they are at right now.
It seems that no matter how much outward fortune we manage to accrue, we all will be tested; we will continually be challenged to carve new meaning from our lives.
From what I’ve seen, rising to the occasion again and again seems to be one of the most cathartic things someone can do.
The best revenge is to become stronger, smarter, and more capable.
You don’t have to say a word, or even get angry.
One of the hardest questions to answer is: “in order to be fulfilled, how much short-term comfort should I sacrifice and how much should I hold onto?”
This is an age-old problem that requires ruthless introspection/experimentation, or there’s no evidence/analysis to base a decision off of. I might even go so far as to call that “the Art of Life.” (Or at least one of them.)
Sometimes, the right thing to do feels wrong or painful. Knowing one’s self allows someone to understand when to leap into “suffering” or bask in “ecstasy…”
And how to transcend both and simply exist in balance.
Dirty Sci-Fi Buddha 