Just sent this email to my ‘web guy*’:

And I thought, “I’m in the medieval digital age.”
*names have been changed to protect the innocent
Just sent this email to my ‘web guy*’:
And I thought, “I’m in the medieval digital age.”
*names have been changed to protect the innocent
I was reading William B. Irvine’s A Guide To The Good Life: The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy and he talks about developing one’s ‘philosophy of life.’
I think mine might be Always Be Processing Gear.
“We normally characterize an optimist as someone who sees his glass as being half full rather than half empty. For a Stoic, though, this degree of optimism would only be a starting point. After expressing this appreciation that his glass is half full rather than being completely empty, he will go on to express his delight in even having a glass; It could, after all, have been broken or stolen. And if he is atop his Stoic game, he might go on to comment about what an astonishing thing glass vessels are; They are cheap and fairly durable, impart no taste to what we put in them, and – miracle of miracles! – allow us to see what they contain. This might sound a bit silly, but to someone who has not lost his capacity for joy, the world is a wonderful place. To such a person, glasses are amazing; to everyone else, a glass is just a glass, and it is half empty to boot.”*
-William B. Irvine, A Guide to the Good Life, The Ancient Art of Stoic Joy
*emphasis mine
“I wouldn’t be surprised if poetry—poetry in the broadest sense, in the sense of a world filled with metaphor, rhyme, and recurring patterns, shapes and designs—is how the world works. The world isn’t logical, it’s a song.”
–David Byrne, Bicycle Diaries
No rule is the best rule.
“Thus you can throw yourself flat on the ground, stretched out upon Mother Earth, with the certain conviction that you are one with her and she with you. You are as firmly established, as invulnerable as she, indeed a thousand times firmer and more invulnerable. As surely as she will engulf you tomorrow, so surely will she bring you forth anew to striving and suffering. And not merely ‘some day’: now, today, every day she is bringing you forth, not once, but thousands upon thousands of times, just as every day she engulfs you a thousand times over. For eternally and always there is only now, one and the same now; the present is the only thing that has no end.” – Erwin Schrödinger
So my takeaway is that the cinnamon roll is me, I am the cinnamon roll, we are already one, so eating it changes nothing, really.
When we’re kids we fall all the time. Sometimes even on purpose. I stacked it more times that I can count riding bikes, skateboarding, falling out of trees and other various shenanigans in the neighborhood.
Yesterday, running downhill on a trail, I caught my right toe on something and fully laid myself out at speed. My left shoulder took the most of it, then the left knee. Rocks. Roots. It happened instantly, without warning – yet paradoxically – I have the distinct memory of that time in the air thinking, “oh, shit.” That part seemed to take a long time. Or at least long enough for me to process it.
The first few moments after a fall like that are existential. Think about the last time you fell, hard. That’s the Universe in a single moment right there. That’s Enlightenment. There’s nothing else but that moment. I guarantee you are not thinking about anything else. You could sit a 1,000 hours of meditation and not get quite the same feeling as the instant when you collide with the ground unexpectedly and emphatically. It’s Gensa stubbing his toe x 100.
“But after a period of studying with Seppo, Gensa figured it was time to go meet some other teachers so that he could get a more well-rounded education. He packed his bags and started walking toward the temple gate.
Just then he stubbed his toe on a big rock. There was blood all over the place, and his toe hurt like nobody’s business. Gensa thought, “Some say the physical body doesn’t exist, so where, then, is this pain coming from?” He returned to the temple.
Seppo, his teacher, saw him and asked, “What’s up, Mr. Hard Practice?”
Gensa said, “My trouble is I can’t be fooled.”
Seppo said, “Who doesn’t know this deep down? But who else besides you can say it out loud?”
– Brad Warner, Don’t Be a Jerk: And other Practical Advice from Dogen, Japan’s Greatest Zen Master
The subsequent moments after hitting the ground were almost euphoric. “I didn’t die.” I made it. Elation. In a weird way it almost felt good to fall. For one, it told me where the limit was, but also it brought me immediately back to the present. All the thoughts that had been ruminating in my head prior to that moment as I careened out of control down a hill – thoughts that had nothing to do with what I was doing or where I was (part of the problem) – seemed suddenly foolish. Irrelevant.
SMACK. RIGHT HERE IS WHERE YOU ARE.
The Universe was telling me to slow the fuck down. “We’re gonna give you a pass on this one ‘cause we dig what you’re doing – but don’t be an idiot about it.” Noted.
It’s been awhile since I smacked the earth that hard. Is that the problem? Is it because as we get older we do it less therefore it’s a bigger deal when we do? Should we be falling more? Seems that’s a double-edged sword.
Sage Internet Philosopher of our times, Stevil, is perhaps onto something:
It would seem more accurately, we’re never too old to do anything – except fall down – that’s the part that becomes problematic. Please pass the ibuprofen.
In the final Universal twist of irony, Coach has me running same trail today on the training plan. Back on the horse as they say.
Our dishwasher broke several months ago. We ordered one, then it was delayed due to Covid and/or other things, then finally ‘unavailable’, so we cancelled the order and are currently deciding what to do next.
I haven’t really been in any hurry to get the new one. Jason Isbell was kind enough to explain why for me.
Hat-tip to GeWilli for the find.