Internet Limiter Released! (by default)

 I revise yesterday's statement. Humans are built for movement. Not just running. Obviously? >.<

I was blinded briefly by the brilliance of the book 'born to run' but am now following it up with 'Exercise' by Lieberman, which in terms of a book about health, I much prefer. Though the stories about ultramarathoners and stuff from Born to Run are quite good and inspiring too.

But I started this entry for another reason: to report that my intentional internet restriction has basically died on the vine. It did fulfill it's purpose-- got me out of a rut and a loop of constantly being online, and out into new activities and thinking about ways to actually improve my life, rather than hide from it in glorious shiny abstraction and dopamine hits(though plenty of that still ongoing. Lots of MHGU going on with roommate at this time.)

I am still committed to my idea of owning very few things and  hand in hand with that, being generous with my excess possessions as I feel comfortable. My goals are still to save up money and prepare to be as mobile as possible. I have not given any serious consideration to leaving Kitsap County until after this winter is over. Despite all the possible problems, I am looking forward to snow, and to warm tea on cold nights.

Part of me still yearns for Moab-- but I am trying to keep in mind the advantages and disadvantages of where I am at, versus where I think I might want to be.

Insanity and RUNNING

I feel like I am slowly going insane. There are so many things-- literal things, but also things I've carried in my mind that just do not matter. I am baffled that on days where I don't try, money comes-- on days when I do try, I get nowhere. Life is not predictable-- in a much wider sense than just money.

And as it turns out, humans are built for one thing. Running. Physically-- mentally. I've started running again, dear reader, and in the privacy of the cool night air, it is the most freeing thing. Not just any running either, but barefoot running-- as I did in the days of my youth, before the hip pain set in (which may have been from long sessions in a chair with video games, and not running at all-- but I won't know until I run again for a few months and see if it recurs...) I don't think the pain will recur, because since those times a decade ago, I've honed in on the perfect stretching routine that eliminates that specific pain, along with a few others.

Thanks to my cherished physical therapist and masseuse. She knows who she is.

The fewer possessions I have-- the more the body I'm stuck with matters to me. It becomes more and more precious. I need it to be pleasant to exist in, to entertain me, and probably to use it to overcome challenges-- or at least be ready for those few moments in life where I may need to outrun danger. :P

Was Nietzsche right, that Strength was the point? Maybe. I would rather say he was right that LOVE was the point. Because if you don't love an activity-- there is no point. And if you don't love life, your life-- other people's lives, the life of the community you are in-- there is no point.

My feet dance on the pavement,

I float like a ghost untouched by the troubles of the world.

My lungs burn

I hurl myself beyond the red dust, into the lands where Gods still dwell.

Matter matters and Mind does too

I think that how we live has a much deeper impact on our lives than what we think. Material over mind. Attempts to be 'at peace' among high stress situations have never worked out for me-- I always snap back, like a rubber band, and have to process that stress or pain later, even if I can put it aside for a moment, a week, or years.

In the Buddha's instructions for meditation, the first step is to go to the root of a tree, or an abandoned dwelling. It's implied that to begin meditation, I am to remove myself from my everyday circumstances-- to go out into the wilderness, or at least out of the house, and away from people. This step of the process should not be overlooked.

All the thorny questions about metaphysics can be put aside. All the complicated formulations and expressions of the Dhamma(the buddhist teachings) can be put aside.

The somewhat worriesome implication, is that if what we do matters the most, then the buddha's proposed solution to happiness may go hand in hand with a degree of mild ascetic life.

You know today, my roommate said, "Hey I left your toothbrush in such and such a place."

And I was like, "How did I forget to put it away?", to myself.

No matter what fancy things are going on in my head, my study, my meditation, that all falls apart if I can't remember to set things down in their proper place. No matter how deep into the unknown corners of the mind we go, it is imperative to remember that we're here in these bodies, living among many others, and that has to be attended to-- to some minimal degree. To preserve peace and be unburdensome, both to one's self and others.

Why does the above implication about 'mild asceticism' worry me? Because for a long time I was more disconnected: I thought that if I just meditated well enough-- then I could do whatever I wanted after. Like if a body builder were to say, "I'm going to work out really hard for a few hours a day, then eat nothing but cheetos and lay on the couch for 22 hours." This would only be so effective, right? Of course in hindsight I can see how silly I was-- isn't it always the case, that if we look back far enough, we seem to be fools in the eyes of who we've become now?

At current, I cannot see a life where I don't meditate going forward. There is nothing like the joy of knowing everything that needs to be done, is done, and sitting away from it all, with just a blanket, a water bottle, and a dhamma book. I bring my phone too-- mainly to use as a clock+timer.

There is nothing like the joy of stepping away, even when there are pressures, things to be done, or stressful situations going on-- and sitting away from it all, with just a blanket, a water bottle, and a dhamma book. The time away reminds me that those problems are not the end of the world, nor are they necessarily 'mine' to hold on to at all times.

The most troubling things I've encountered thus far are my own anxieties around the future. I remind myself that they are built up of so many things which haven't yet come to be-- there is no immediate nor near future cause for the worry. It's literally just in my head, what if's and maybes, possibility and counter-possibility. It bubbles up, then it simmers down. I've found after about 45 minutes of staying out in my meditation place, whatever is going on in my head usually will simmer down.

I recently found a way to improve my posture so that I encounter far less pain and no leg numbness. Just tilting the body to one side or the other to give it a rest! After a decade of feeling that numbness and burning pain I feel like a fool. I told myself yesterday, "I'll sit for an hour no matter what." And then I figured it out and now it all seems so silly. I can now theoretically meditate for an hour or longer-- the trouble I hit today and late in the day yesterday is that my own ability to focus, and to let go of all the other thing swirling in my mind-- that is an area I could improve in some more.

""There is the case where a monk, having gone to the wilderness, to the shade of a tree, or to an empty building, sits down folding his legs crosswise, holding his body erect, and setting mindfulness to the fore. Always mindful, he breathes in; mindful he breathes out..." ~ https://www.accesstoinsight.org/tipitaka/mn/mn.118.than.html

Ties That Bind - Journal

 I am breaking my own internet time restriction rule to write this. Copied from my paper journal, which I just wrote this in, with some additions made during rewrite.

Just like in 2019, I find myself sitting in this same room-- thinking of Moab and Buddhism and the stress and pain that is present here where I'm at now. I am unchanged and changed at the same time. Unlike before, I've been to Moab now, and seen exactly what is there. The edge of the world is also the center, and experienced pain simply goes with me. You've probably heard the phrase "Wherever you go, there you are."

Am I circling a whirlpool about to be dragged under and crushed by the pressure, or do I stand at the entrance to a grand golden gate, the other side of which has wonders that I cannot comprehend from my current vantage? Or are my attempts to fit narrative to my feelings and experience futile-- the machinations of a mind trying to make sense of things that have either not happened for a reason or for reasons beyond my understanding? Does any of it matter?

I fear the pain and the slow decay of staying where I am at. I grieve even now for the friendships I might lose if I leave-- and that I might have no way, and no where, to return to in this city if I were to walk out one more time.

But I am weary-- I can't see going on like this 'forever' nor do I even feel like going on 'like this' today is a great option, caught in a swirl of other people's problems. (But that is a situation that can happen no matter where I go) I don't feel like where I am now can last-- Nor do I see my wealth being great enough to 'advance' to home ownership, or even renting a room. My three year experiment career has thus far resulted in a jaded view of the indie publishing industry and a trickle of income barely sufficient to feed and clothe myself. Even if I had 'made it' would I feel any different on the inside?

I don't just have my skin in the game here, living my life-- I have my very life and myself on the line. This may all seem childish to the reader-- but it all matters a whole lot to me! At least now, while it's all fresh in mind. In a decade I may look back and think that I was a fool-- that I focused in the wrong areas, and so on. Isn't that how it always goes?

Who does not experience some anxiety and worry about the future sometimes? Only a Buddha.

Regardless of my thoughts of the future-- what to do now? Be persistently mindful that this is only the starting point of the rest of my life. My journey doesn't end here in this place, among these people and these problems. My mental state does not end here, wrapped in this anxiety and concern. This is all temporary.

I must remind myself that I am just passing through. Both this place, and this life overall. Smile! These problems are not yourself. They can be dropped. The underlying causes can be cut. You are not tied to these worldly concerns very tightly: your property is little, you have no land, no wife, no children to truly keep you from taking flight if you so choose.

In the end I am only human.

In terms of more concrete action: keep the Precepts, meditate, study, save your money for essentials, and thin down your acquisitions and possessions to the minimum. No matter what comes, or what I choose or don't choose, all this will be for my benefit. Even with this, I've typed this entry up because I don't plan on keeping the paper journal around. One more thing to manage.

I'm so tired of managing things.

Each possession is a string--

it makes demands of me, even as I demand of it--

entertain me, maintenance me, store me, clean me.

I am bound up in so many strings--

feeling their knots.

Yearning to be more free.

2022 Fragments 1-25

 The first bit of a longer project I've started. I have no idea if I'll finish it, so I'll put this piece up here.

1. The more things I let go, the more I find myself with time, and to a lesser degree, energy with which to consider new things. In the eight month of 2022, I started to write these words.

2. The world offers no permanent shelter-- of the events which we moderns attribute to nature, there is no one in charge. Our math allows us to predict, for instance, weather patterns, in a general way, and yet it is still near impossible for a person unaided to count the exact number of hairs on their own head. Well, unless they’re bald or close to it, I suppose.

3. No one can know the time and place where death will come, though we may be able, in sickness or old age, to get a general sense of it’s approach. But just as often it erupts on people suddenly, taking them away at any old time. We are sparklers, dry grass in a field-- we could flare up and then be extinguished at any point. Pandemics, accidents, and politicos sweep through the people like a wildfire, taking life without discrimination.

4. Who can hold back the breaking wave? Who can laugh while in grave danger, like the man dangling from a cliff, tigers above and below, eating a fistful of berries with a smile?

5. I work on this, when I ‘should’ be working on what pays. But this work soothes in a way that money never does. Money is always on fire-- in motion it is spent, and while still in the wallet it casts a light for miles, drawing thieves and marketers around, predators to the fresh meat. Earning money is a bottomless pit-- there is no end to how to be ‘more efficient,’ ‘more productive.’

6. In the negative, money functions as fuel between people for the fires of greed, jealously, and envy through comparison. To avoid these negatives, it is simple: everyone should be at a similar level. The usual narrative of the modern world however is the opposite of this. Strive for more and more! Get it while it’s hot! The latest things, the latest fashions, bigger house, bigger salary, shiny shiny!

7. Being one of those who has very little, do I then harbor jealousy or greed or envy in my own heart? No, because there is another way. It was once said to me that, if I wanted to live an ascetic life, the most important thing would be “...to have a spiritual base.” To embrace having few things and still find joy-- well, obviously the joy isn’t in the things, right? Perhaps. Or perhaps I derive immense joy from the few things I do have-- having few things, I cherish them all the more, even if they are old, cheap, or commonplace. After not having something long enough, isn’t it easy to say, “I don’t need that, even if it might be nice to have?” Especially so for things that one has never had before at all.

For me, I consider the costs. Yes, money is a factor. But also time. How much time will it take to maintain this? Will it cost me worrying over how I will keep it running, or how I shall find time to use it? Or even find a place to store it and protect it from the elements? Some people seem to accrue houses just to house their stuff. And then maybe it starts feeling like they ‘need’ to have a house. Though I am keenly aware that it is my choices that enable this kind of minimalist living-- I am unmarried, without child or dependents or property to manage. Someone with a family especially, must take that into consideration before trying to drift through life carrying very little, like a leaf on the wind.

So, it is a matter of rhetoric to see downsides to the object of jealous, envy, greed, and thus cut that feeling off at the root-- without needing to acquire things. For me this has been a long process-- and it stings sometimes, looking back on how foolishly I spent some time, or how blindly I acquired things-- but the me of the past is not the me of today, and can’t be held to the same standard.

8. A spiritual base. A firm dock piling. A mountain against the winds of the world. To find my footing in this way is a hard thing, an ongoing process with ups and downs. But for instance, shall I put my faith in a new doodad, just a few years old, or might it perhaps pay in subtle ways to forgo that to choose an ancient path, steeped in traditions and activities that have been handed down for millennia? Old books, proverbs, religious practices-- they all survive because their practitioners survived. For those that claim to bring happiness and stability, even for those followers in extreme poverty-- those claims should at least be examined, and that is what my current process is. Reading ancient texts, interpreting loosely-- breaking things up and reforming them into what is useful to me here and now, even if it goes against traditional trends or interpretations.

9. The beauty of enshrining a character like the Buddha within the literature of the religion is that now that it is done, no one needs feel tempted to try and be a Buddha. We already have one, so we can all stay humble and only venture into the unknown as much as we feel necessary. We don’t need to go around seeking one either-- there he is. (or she, or they, depending on source texts and interpretations)

10. Similarly, if a particular bit of literature, or an entire religion, doesn’t seem to be for you. Cut it out. Put it down. Don’t bother. Life is too short to spend reading things that don’t seem to be helping.

11. Similarly, be wary of anyone who seeks to omit and shrink your perspective, rather than entertaining strange questions and unusual interpretation. If you’re seeking, seek those who can help you expand-- not force you to contract into whatever their ‘box’ is.

12. When entertaining strange questions or encountering unusual interpretations, or trying to come to grips with some of the mythological seeming things in an ancient text(such as seeming acts of teleportation, mind-reading, instant-healing and so on), it is safe to say, “Maybe it did or didn’t happen-- but I have no direct knowledge of that.” Admitting the limits of my own knowledge and understanding is important-- otherwise I risk digging myself into pits over stupid things.

13. A summary of 12: The Buddhist Canon doesn’t need to be defended.

14. The Canon is vast, contradictory, it’s authorship mostly unknown and unconfirmed. There is no way in the modern sense to ‘empirically verify’ what the Buddha said or didn’t or what his followers said or didn’t-- or if any of them even really existed in the first place. I refer here not just to the Pali Canon across it’s three sources, but to all the texts which have come down to us since the time of the First Council: all of those things some call the ‘mahayana’ texts. The Zen writings, the Lotus Sutra. All those various things.

The whole Canon was written by people at specific times and places, for specific reasons. People make mistakes. People also twist and interpret narratives, both old and new, to fit the times they find themselves in. It’s just people. Or at best, people who wrote down what they thought a deity or the Buddha said. At worst, quotations are twisted, lines inserted, and words are placed into the mouths of classical teachers, who themselves may just be figments of imagination.

Anyone who says Buddhism is a religion(or philosophy) that requires no faith should consider these matters carefully.

15. Note that there are, supposedly, a few hundred years of gap between when the Buddha supposedly lived and the time it’s accepted that the council agreed to formalize and write things down. During that time-- it was all oral tradition. I suspect that until things were written down and the teachings were standardized, there was a lot more variation amongst schools within Buddhism-- perhaps as much as there currently is today! (There were what, 20 or so ancient schools of Buddhism on record? Of which we have the direct writings of only a handful, if my memory serves.)

16. Interpretive strategy: When a story contains a moment of myth-- put aside whether it could happen. Instead consider that it was written that way in order to prove a point. “Look! The Buddha has demonstrated all those cool superpowers just like the other religious leaders of his time but also he has this cool and unique teaching that is different and never before seen, so you should totally listen to what he has to say.” Or: “Look, humans don’t know and gods don’t know either, but the Buddha has an answer.”

(For a specific example of the latter, read Digha Nikaya 11)

17. As for me personally, I don’t worry about textual lack of error, or about whether miracles and myths are real. Regardless of errors, things lost in translation, and so on-- the important thing is how can I use what I do find to reduce my suffering and increase my joy. As for miracles-- maybe, maybe not-- but I assure you I don’t know.

18. I have gone to have a talk

Finally, after a long walk

my sadness has gone.

19. Words swirl in my head.

In my heart I climb to the high places,

I taste the delight of a mountain bathed in autumn rain.

20. I know I am playing fast and loose here. What I’ve made in the end won’t be airtight, but I can say that along the way, I’ve not compromised in this way: I’ve only written the parts that I’ve enjoyed writing.

21. I suspect the idea of meditation as a ‘practice’ is dangerous in the following way. Practicing, for what? For some future moment? The future moment has not come! In fact, to view this moment only as preparation for a future moment cheapens the wonder to be found right here in the present. Make this moment as good as it can be-- whether it’s meditation time or not. It is common to say, “Use this breath, make this breath as good as possible.” And that’s a good starting point. With the counterpoint that if that starts making me giddy or distracted in and of itself, then it’s time to aim more for ‘soothing’ or ‘calming’ than ‘good’ or ‘pleasurable.’ There is such a thing as generating too much rapture, for working oneself up into a mania.

So practice in the sense of right now. Improve things right now. Later will take care of itself, but keep your eye on it. Be wary of practicing now for a reward ‘later.’

22. But in light of that, is enlightenment gradual or sudden? This was a big question in relatively recent history. Lots of Zen masters saying confusing things and whacking students with objects. My answer if I were asked this is no better. I say, “Go sweep the paths and clean up your area.”

Why do I say that? I hope the questioner will go away and forget about it. I hope the questioner will find a way to taste a little bit of peace, calm and joy in their daily activities, instead of getting tangled in complex metaphysical questions.

23. Who am I to write a book like this? Interpreting, commenting, and so on, especially on so sacred at topic as Buddhism and such? I have no degrees, no peer-review. I wear no robes, I’m no monk, and it would be a mistake to think me a scholar. My ‘education’ such as it is, is too haphazard to be called ‘scholarly.’

If Buddhism is for everyone, then why shouldn’t I write a book-- recording my own attempts at understanding? The one risk that concerns me: am I leading people astray? Am I responsible for someone’s bad behavior or dangerous interpretation, for their actions after reading this?

I do not think so. But if that’s the case, I don’t think I can lay claim to whatever good others do that may come of this book either. So whether for good or for evil, you, dear reader, your actions are your own. Their fruits, you have earned. For me, I’ve written this book, and if it sees publication-- that is what I’ll have to live with.

24. In line with 23: You must be a light for yourself. The writings of others, even if they profess to be on the same path, may be less useful than you think. I suggest reading whatever is most ancient, then working your way forward. Don’t take up my interpretation and assume the search stops here. That’s backwards-- this book represents a mile marker in my own journey.

Seeing this mile marker of mine-- all it means is that we’ve crossed paths for a moment. Nothing more. Take what you find good, leave aside the rest.

25. Perhaps I’m splitting hairs, but I still feel that ‘practice’ is a strange word to choose in english. There’s no wholly satisfying english word for the Pali word Bhavana, which means: ‘development, cultivate, producing, or ‘calling into existence.’ (Thanks wikipedia)

Living the Teachings

 What is said in the buddhist discourses of old is of course important. I used to be quite obsessed with what was said-- still am to some degree. But I now realize it is perhaps of equal or greater importance to look at what the discourses have to say about how to live and how the followers of the buddha lived, in a very physical 'what did they do/not do' sense. Some things are best expressed by living them-- not just reading them...

"If he recites many teachings, but

–heedless man–

doesn’t do what they say,

like a cowherd counting the cattle of

others,

he has no share in the contemplative life.

If he recites next to nothing

but follows the Dhamma

in line with the Dhamma;

abandoning passion,

aversion, delusion;

alert,

his mind well released,

not clinging

either here or hereafter:

he has his share in the contemplative life." ~Dhammapada verse 19-20 (source)

Old Memories

 Unsubscribe.
Let go.
Put it down.
Bury the hatchet.
Forgive.
Forget.
Break the cycle.
Only through renunciation of what was can there be room for new growth.

On The Freedom To Change

 "You are under no obligation to be the same person you were five minutes ago." ~ Alan Watts

There is nothing wrong with turning around. Often, admitting I was wrong, trying to change and do something differently-- I meet with inward resistance. I am already so invested in the way I've been going that it's very hard, it feels like a betrayal of myself, to change my own course. Multiple conflicting desires, ways of being, wage a constant little conflict inside me during those sorts of times-- a contrast to my usual sense of peace and ease that I can tap into, especially when I am alone.

But don't we all experience dark nights of the soul? Questioning all things, doubting ourselves or others?

Shrinking and contracting can help: by removing or putting aside one portion of the conflict. Do I want chocolate or strawberry? Effort of will: just choose strawberry, or say to myself, "Strawberry today, maybe chocolate tomorrow." Conserve motion and resources, allocate along a timeline, delay, let go, surrender.

Expanding can help: by embracing the idea of two things at once. Chocolate or strawberry? Hah! I'll take one of each! Or perhaps I only have enough stomach for one. What if I eat strawberry, and grant a friend chocolate? Is not their enjoyment to some degree my enjoyment as well? Expand into more options, including considering others as part of yourself. Choose liberally, be generous, do it all now, live for the moment.

But what if, whatever choice is made, is the 'wrong' choice?

Shrinkage: I already made it. Looking back won't help.

Expansion: I can choose again. Look forward to trying again.

Consider that worrying over the wrong choice is itself indicative of a contractive mind: worry, a form of anxiety, anxiety, a more subtle gradient of fear.

Anyway... just some extra thoughts I had a little while after the previous post. Good luck out there!

Poking at the ideas of happiness and pleasure

 Happiness is elusive and often conflated in the mind with pleasure. Why elusive? It has to do with a certain mode of thought that I can slip into at some times, which goes something like this: "If I could just have X, then I'd be happy." A thought of lack, of want. Now-- is it wrong to want things? I don't think so. It's natural to want things, to get things, enjoy things-- and by things I mean not just possessions, but experiences with people, viewing wonderful sights, etc. 'Things' can be intangible.

How conflated? I define pleasure as that temporary positive state. Eating a chocolate is a solid, material example. I eat it, then it's gone. Later I may experience a craving for more-- this can solidify into a feeling of lack, or of deserving another chocolate, or into wanting a chocolate. Happiness is a state of pleasure that is more independent of things. I can be happy both while eating and not eating a chocolate-- the cause is less material in it's root nature.

But wait-- if happiness is just a sort of pleasure that is longer lasting, and less anchored to specific things, then are not happiness and pleasure more gradients of the same thing, rather than distinct things? Hmm. I seem to have written myself into a corner with that.

I don't have direct answers: but these thoughts tell me something about my own thinking. 1. That I rate happiness higher than pleasure. 2. because happiness is also a term for pleasure that is less dependent on circumstance, that I've been using the word happiness imprecisely, to refer to multiple adjacent things(not a problem in my day to day, unless I try and explain myself, as I attempted to do here >.< ) and 3. The point most clear to me from this is that I value that pleasure that is more independent of time and circumstance.

And all things equal, who wouldn't?

But all things are not equal-- a pleasure less dependent is possibly a pleasure with a more intangible (or spiritual) basis. The whole explanation in fact relies on the sketchy dichotomy that things of the 'spirit'(toward intangible) and things of the 'material'(toward tangible) are in fact separate categories. This may be a useful mental action: having the distinct buckets of spiritual and material, but I know this to be a distinction formed in the mind. With a change of perspective, even the most mundane actions become spiritual. Even the most 'lofty' and spiritual practices have a material component.(prayer usually implies a change in posture, or at least the mouthing of words? Even in a spiritual practice with no outward sign, changes in the brain have recently been measured. See Matthieu Ricard's participation in being hooked to a brainscan while doing buddhist mediation.)

The spiritual and material are actually closely linked. Linked but not the same. There is a fuzziness. Refined states of pleasure, or 'spiritual bliss' requires awareness of both ends of the stick.

There is love and there is fear... expansion and contraction... each entity moving in one way, the other way, or pulling both ways...

The Lazy Man's Guide to Enlightenment explains this further.

Small Post

 The internet restriction continues to be beneficial. For the most part, I feel very calm today and am content moving through this day at precisely my own pace. There is enough time to get everything done enough. Maybe that's attitude, or maybe that's proper planning, or both. Currently reading Rob Bell's 'How to Be Here' and liking it.

Conflict Avoided

 Today I did very good at staying quiet and not speaking. Someone close to me implied that I do nothing but 'watch TV and play video games.'

My first thought was. "Oh. Oh!"

Followed by the thought: "You clearly don't know me." Followed by a twinge of anger. Followed by the realization that defending myself to this person would achieve nothing. Their ideas of me are their problem. At that point I decided it was better not to respond.

I do play video games, it's true. But I don't watch TV unless a friend insists we watch something. :P

The 1 hour a day internet challenge continues: though I've broken down and accessed outside of that  block for work and communication with friends. I think these are fair things to do. It's the mindless browsing and the tendency toward distraction that I wish to curb: I don't want to lose income or social relations by tossing out baby with bath water.

In other news, I am 2/3rds of the way through Black Swan and still loving it. I am also reading Freebird's Journal. Hopefully I will meet him someday.

Hard Limits to Knowledge

 There are hard limits to what can be known. I cannot know how long I will live. I cannot know whether a new purchase will make me happy-- or for how long the feeling it produces will last. I cannot know how others react to me, or how I may react to them.

I can form models: 'models of behavior' based on past experience-- and present and future experience in many things don't stray too far from what has already happened.

It is not that there is a limit to knowledge because all things are random, but because many parts of experience have an unknowable degree of randomness to them. Some activities for example, like exercise, have been done in the same ways since the dawn of writing. The greeks started the olympics, no? I know that if I lift a weight I'll get some muscle, or that if I run my stamina will increase over time. But other activities, while most of the time they do not vary, will sometimes spike wildly up or down.

Consider the unexpected dose of humor or sadness or feelings of affection that can stir in one's heart from reading a book. I don't know that these moments will strike me: 99% or more of the time, I don't feel very strongly when reading a book, but then whatever it is hits and I will laugh or cry on the spot. It is this second category of experience where the hard limits of knowledge are most wonderful and also most dangerous.

Taleb calls these two categories of randomness Mediocristan and Extremistan. It's important to know which category a given whatever-it-is is in. Death is in Extremeistan. I didn't die today, or any of those other prior days. So therefore, I won't die tomorrow or any of those other future days, right? Wrong: at some impossible for me to predict time in the future, it's all over. The limits of my knowledge here mean I am certainly in the dark to some degree, no matter how much effort I put into my own safety and longevity.

My laundry comes from Mediocristan: it builds up gradually, it is cleaned regularly. There are no odds that all my clothes will magically become dirty, or that they'll all be cleaned in an instant. There are shifts here: but even the most extreme are visible: all my clothes could become clean in a large enough machine, all my clothes could become dirty if I skipped laundry day for a few months. Though there are shifts and even outliers to laundry, it's all known enough. Known unknowns.

Well, I stepped away from this post and lost my train of thought. So this is it for now. >.<

Rethinking buddhism things and how the internet time restriction is going

In the process of rethinking about buddhism through a less literal and more mythical/interpretative method. (applying general ideas from Rob Bell and Peter Enns on reading the bible outward to other ancient texts that could be viewed as 'mythicized history') The main thing on my mind at this point is that maybe buddhism was less mystical and more practical than I originally thought: maybe meditative states aren't the goal or the thing to be chased: but that the benefits of buddhist practice are primarily in the tangible: the community, the sharing of food, the owning of few things, the focus on inter-personal ethics. Meditation is just a 'no tools' way to stay out of trouble when alone or when doing anything else might be harmful? (a benefit via negativa)

I'm still untangling my thoughts on the above. But the brunt of my time is still devoted to chewing through my library book backlog. Still on Nassim Taleb/Black Swan primarily. I won't attempt to summarize it here: but if you enjoy having long conversations with me about things, it might be good to read it. :P

Still keeping to my one hour of internet a day. Today I've felt less drawn toward connecting at all, and would not have except that I wanted to message a few friends. I'm adjusting to the idea of not looking things up throughout the day-- earlier in the week I was saving questions to google later, but today and yesterday I've felt more ok not having answers. I think being ok with not having answers, or with relying more closely on one's own fallible memory, and asking other people directly if they remember, is a beneficial thing. Beneficial for me at least, because in the past I've gotten harmfully obsessed with knowing every variable and edge case: of a game, of a social situation, of a person, of a historical event, etc. And the deeper one digs the more one uncovers, eh? But there are limits, whether with the internet or without. It's ok to not dig: a tradeoff between sating the hunger for knowledge and starving that same hunger for a little bit of peace through not-knowing-all-the-things.

Tiny post on happiness and habits

 Still doing good. I've thought back over the past month to things I've changed recently that might account for my positive changes in mood/affect. I think friends are still the primary thing: I've been going out twice a week to events, which is good. My food is consistent, I don't keep many sweets at home, I sleep when I am tired and eat when I'm hungry. I have no debts. I take cold showers. I walk every day. I read lots of books-- sometimes this adds up to like 6 hours a day or more. If a book doesn't hook me, I drop it and get another.(the digital lending program of the local library is a wonderful thing) Being online for only one hour a day recently has really pushed my average book reading time to the moon.

There you go: my recipe for happiness in a nutshell. Friends are key. Happiness is nothing if not shared.

Thoughts Spiraling in Many Directions...

Reading today: Contemplative Prayer by Merton, and Black Swan by Nassim Taleb. Have I mentioned that I love Taleb's writing? Very entertaining and he covers the subject of unknown unknowns to a degree that I've not seen done anywhere else.

I think cold showers are perhaps the best thing I've done for myself in a long time. The ability to withstand small systemic shocks (such as the discomfort of a splash of cold water) is perhaps one of the most useful skills to have in life. Am I afraid of being cold for a minute? Do I hesitate? Can I push through it? Is it as bad as I think it will be? The whole lesson is within the activity itself which brings me to another case of that.

Buddhism. Yes, those of you that know me, we've tread this ground before, but now I see it with new eyes. First we'll have to look at the four noble truths:

1. there is suffering(dukkha.: stain/pain/suffering)

2. there is origin of suffering. (our own actions, mental and physical)

3. there is cessation of suffering (all suffering that has an origin has an end)

4. there is a path to the cessation of suffering (see the problem, see the origin, see the end-- the path is the linkage between these, and also the conclusion of truths 1 to 3.)

The thing that feels completely obvious to me now, that was not before is that the system of Buddhism only addresses suffering that can be changed by actions. This lines up with something I read elsewhere, which is that in terms of life satisfaction 50% is genetics, 10% is environment, and 40% is our own actions. Buddhism's methods care primarily about that 40%. Is it not said: do good, don't do evil, train the mind?

I do not think that the buddhist path can be fully attended to by someone who has many things on their mind, or many possessions (see: strings of sensuality) that tie them to the world. If objects lead to identity formation, then fewer objects, and fewer variations between objects, should lead to a firmer sense of identity right? And yes, I'm referring to self-construct here, or the construction of self. (I know, I know, all the stuff about 'no-self.' That's useful in some cases, and being able to fabricate a sturdy identity is useful in others: which is where I'm at right now. Trying to deconstruct and reconstruct my own life.)

Do note that I said: 'fully attended.' Buddhism is still for anyone who wants it, to the degree that they choose to embrace it. In my current thought, I view Buddhism mainly as an extensive form of Dialectics in the sense of discourse, the dialectic method: except that instead of debating with external people, it's about what I tell myself about things, especially past or future events.

Do I think something coming up will be really good? Well, maybe it will be terrible. How can I know? Predictions are very useless the further away the date of an event is from my current point in time. I can make ok predictions about myself, today, tomorrow maybe. But past this it all starts crumbling: the world has far too many parts. It is inconstant, constantly shifting and whirling. This basic idea of thought-counter-thought-- anything can be a good idea or a bad idea, right? So thoughts of the past and future end up being... only very marginally useful.

I can't go forward, or back-- and I can't stay still. So what is there to do? Forget about movement, about where I'm going. I can be here now, or thinking of the future or past. There is a relevant bit in Ecclesiasties, about 'whatever your hands find to do, do it with all your might.' and 'eat, drink and be merry. This is nothing, and we're all going to die.' At this time, I can think these thoughts and strangely, unlike in the past, the idea doesn't make me depressed.

Unfortunately, I'm out of typing time. Or perhaps fortunately, as I've gone all over the place this time. >.<

How much journaling can I do in a half hour? This much!

 The second day of one hour of internet time only. Yesterday, I finished reading 'Goodbye Things' by Fumio Sasaki. It's a good read, though I skimmed the character bios at the front and the bits of the book that read like product/apple advertising overall. The most important takeaway for me, I think, is the idea that whatever I own becomes part of my identity: the implication being that by saying goodbye to many things, maybe I can craft my own more internal identity, that is not tied to things. Or it'll trigger some sort of existential crisis but... well. Doin' it anyway.

I did sort through lots of my things that were hidden out of reach or in drawers. This was something I had already been meaning to do for a long time, but without constant distraction yesterday, I just started in on one area, and then kind of zoned in and spent five hours cleaning. Very necessary. Now I have many things in bags-- I'll let them sit for a while, in case I feel the need to tear into them to rescue something I decide is special... but when I'm ready I expect I'll say goodbye to most of it.

I have also been diving into 'Searching for Sunday' by Rachel Held Evans. Which is good, and well, more relatable than expected. I grew up Mormon, until I one day just stopped going. I wish at that time someone had pulled me aside and had explained to me that there are many ways to interpret the bible, instead of what had happened: I was too smart for my own good, and the literal interpretation was the only way I'd known. Peter Enns and Rob Bell's books discuss a variety of ways to view the bible, if you want to dig more into that sort of thing. I've greatly enjoyed most things I've read or heard by Enns, but that is perhaps because his views align pretty closely already with my own current thoughts, though are backgrounds are very different.

But Searching for Sunday is more about searching for community, dealing with doubt, and what the Church/community IS in the modern day. And maybe why it's dying. And what it could be going forward. It's a long bit of musing and my own doubts and worries overlap somewhat with Held's own, which is perhaps why the book was so popular among so many people. (Or at least, I assume it was? I haven't looked up sales stats or other's reviews, so I don't really know.)

I need to get back to Contemplative Prayer by Merton before my time on the library loan is up...

I am still thinking about Moab. And all the other times I've been to strange places. I think the key to my unhappiness that I've felt during travel has nothing to do with where I'm at physically-- except for being alone. I think it is feeling alone that is the killer of happiness when I travel. Yet I was surrounded by people. So many spoke to me-- all interactions were pleasant.

I know that I want to go back to Moab one day. I would first like to resolve my income issues and actually 'earn' the trip by saving up money. Instead of burning current savings to go, basically. I think that will feel much better as well: to save up, to go with a set budget, acknowledge that it may not be a 'forever move' and be open to what happens, but ready to return to WA if things don't pan out after a few weeks. (basically what I did last time I went. Got injured, slept in hostel, returned to a more familiar place)

On minimalism: I would now actually call myself a minimalist, where in the past I've argued against ascribing this label to my self. So what has changed? I am now intentionally reducing my possessions, and doing so with an eye to keeping their numbers low. But there is a secret. Just because my material possessions are small, does not mean my online presence, my bank balance, my saved pictures, library of kindle books, and etc are going goodbye. I plan to keep a lot of these more intangible things, that do not take up space to 'own', but do require some time to maintain and make use of. Keeping that from consuming me is both challenging and easy: because there is only one portal through which I can benefit or be harmed my the iceberg that is my digital 'stuff.' That is the computer, and the internet.

But I do want to be able to pack up and leave easily if I want to. I don't want to leave lots of things behind that others have to deal with-- or that might tempt me to change how I evaluate situations: to come back to a subpar situation just because 'well I left all this valuable stuff there!'. For me, that is the danger of possessions. I want to be able to settle down as I please, but take lightly to the wind in the event of changes of heart or catastrophic events. Just a feather on the breeze, a bit of vapor on the wind-- after all, I'm only passing through life right?

Thoughts on limited internet use

 I am going to try, going forward, to just have one hour of internet use a day. That's laptop and phone data, primarily. My one hour today includes writing this post directly into blogger's text editor. Why do this? Because I can remember the happiest days of my life. They were days where I had no internet and what felt like unlimited free time. Of course, I am older now with a few more things I have to take care of-- but I can strive to recreate that time. Or to bring that time in the past forward in time to the now.

What prompted me to do this? Partly memory, partly my own realization of just how much time I spend wrapped up in a dopamine drip youtube bubble, and partly some things that Nassim Taleb talks about in Black Swan about how adding more information to a person tends to add more 'noise' in the 'signal to noise ratio' sense. So in some things more information is actually toxic to a person's well being and decision making.

I am not sure how it will go. If I were certain of benefits, I'd already be doing it, right? So it's an experiment for me. Which also doesn't mean it will be 'good for everyone'. Or good for me all the time. It's important to view this sort of experiment as play, not as work.

So how can limited internet time lead me to more play and maybe more joy in my life? That's the big one. :D

Should Should Should

 I should do this. I shouldn't do that. I should be more consistent. I should tackle x, y and z even though I don't want to.

SHOULD: Verb.
1. used to indicate obligation, duty, or correctness, typically when criticizing someone's actions.

Feeling like I should do something should be a clue: ding ding, your bullshit detector is going off. Why do I even feel like I should do this? What happens if I just-- don't?