Rant

I’m sick and tired of hearing people complain.  Everywhere you go, (or listen to, or read), you find another opinionated loudmouth going off about something that’s probably none of their business anyway.  So, enough, already!  Stop complaining!

It chaps my ass the way humans won’t shut up about whatever it is that annoys them, from something simple like international trade to a far more intractable problem, like whether it’s okay to snooze your alarm five times over half an hour before getting out of bed.

My blood boils at the sense of entitled outrage that people in all walks of life, young and old, rich and poor, find it necessary to express publicly.  “Shut up!” I explain to them; no one wants to put up with your grousing.

Back in my younger days, when nostalgia was so much better, you didn’t have to abide by such nonsense; people accepted their lot in life and kept their mouths shut if things were bothering them.  These days, anyone with an internet connection gets to spew their opinions all around the world; no wonder society is in such dire straits: instead of doing the work necessary to fix things, people just sit in their rooms and rant about what’s wrong.  Disgusting!

Plus, most of the things that people complain about are of their own doing, anyway.  You don’t like that brand of pickles?  Well, you shouldn’t have bought them!  You’re upset about traffic?  Don’t drive!  Can’t stand hearing others complain?  Stop listening!

People need to take more responsibility for their own petty annoyances.  So, don’t blame me if you don’t like what you’re hearing.  It’s not my fault that I’m the way that I am.  If only I hadn’t grown up in a society that celebrates bitching and moaning, I wouldn’t be griping and squawking in this way.

Have some self-awareness, people!  Complaining is just another way of not owning your own shortcomings!

But hey, who am I to complain?

Moribund

They—the Buddhists among others—say that as soon as you’re born, you start dying.  I suppose that’s true for some things, like your skin and hair cells, but it seems to me a bit of an overstatement; the real dying doesn’t start happening until your late twenties or early thirties.  And by the time you’re almost seventy years of age, the declension is in full swing.

The warranty on your body and mind expires sometime around the age you’re old enough to be eligible for the US Presidency, which is sort of ironic; you have to be in your declining years to qualify for the highest office in the land.  

Some folks are already on the downhill slide at 25, when a person can run for the House of Representatives or at 30, when one is allowed to pursue the US Senate, which perhaps explains why the interests of the future are discounted significantly in the setting of public policy.  In any event, it’s clear that the Federal government is made up almost completely by people who are essentially on their way out of here; no wonder so many of their decisions—and non-decisions—are both literally and figuratively killing us.

I tell myself I’m not particularly concerned about my own deliquescence; it is fascinating to watch how things that used to work quite easily, like fingers or knees, start to operate much less effectively and more painfully, but I suppose being able to observe their decline is something of a gift.  When the brain really begins to fail, one is unlikely to be aware and who knows, anosognosia may already be in full swing unbeknownst to the knower.

“Everything arises and passes away” is a fundamental truth of how the Nature operates, although it doesn’t seem to apply in the case of having to pee; that feeling seems to arise and keep arising, unless something is done about it.

So, pardon me now; Nature calls

Autopoesis

 There is no me.  “I” know that; it’s all either one thing or no thing or both or neither.  

We misidentify ourselves as individual beings when, in fact, we are all a singular universal Self, or perhaps we’re just an operation of processes with no discrete identity whatsoever.

In any case, this thing “I” call “me” is an illusion; it has no beginning, nor any end; it’s no more what “I” really am than my image in the mirror or a photograph. When I die, it will re-merge with the fundamental ground of all Being from whence it came and of which it truly is.  This “me” will be no longer, but since it never actually existed, we need not mourn; everything is as it ever was, the song—to quote those great philosophers, Led Zeppelin—remains the same.

All of this is somewhat confounding, however, given one’s appetite for breakfast cereal.  If it’s true that none of us is really what we think we are, then why would “I” be craving another bowl of granola.  Why, in fact, would “I” even had one in the first place?

And if what we really are is the Universal Self, eternal, unchanging, non-dual, pure Being, pure Consciousness, pure Bliss, then how come clothes that “I” purchased last year don’t fit “me” anymore?

Brahman’s got some explaining to do, if you ask “me.”

Perhaps it has something to do with what Alan Watts referred to in the title of his book The Book: On The Taboo Against Knowing Who You Really Are.  Maybe we’re culturally, socially, philosophically, theistically, and just plain stubbornly unable to admit to ourselves that our selves aren’t these things we go around pretending—and convincing—ourselves to be.

It sure would make for a more peaceful and harmonious world to accept the reality of our essential shared identity and moreover, it sure would be nice to share the same bowl of granola every morning as one.

Adequate

You don’t have to bring your “A” game to everything.  Sometimes, “B+” or even “C” is plenty.

Suppose, for instance, you’re cleaning the bathroom.  If you scour the toilet and wipe down the sink, that’s good enough for this week.  Next time, you can mop the floor and scrub the shower.

Or consider your daily yoga or exercise practice.  Just “going through the motions” is better than nothing if, at least, it gets you doing the thing.

Or imagine that you are a college teacher and you’ve overserved yourself a little bit the night before.  You can have students break into groups and discuss the reading; that will get you all through the period and you can prepare to do better the next time your class meets.  

Just imagine.

Striving for excellence is admirable, but occasionally, just settling for adequate is to be appreciated.  

You don’t have to make your beans from scratch; the canned ones are fine in a stew.  It’s not necessary to use the washcloth all over your body every time; as long as you’ve got your pits and privates, that should do the trick.  The dog doesn’t need an hour long walk twice a day; taking her around the block so she can sniff and poop will do.

This isn’t to say you should settle for anything; one draws the line at instant rice, for instance.  And there’s no reason anyone should accept single-ply toilet paper on a regular basis.

But as has been said before: “Not everything is everything.”  Sometimes good enough is good enough.  The bare minimum does meet the minimum requirements.

That old chestnut asks, “What do they call a doctor who graduated last in their class at medical school?” The answer? “Doctor!”  And while you may not want to have them perform your brain surgery; they’d be okay for your annual physical.

No doubt this essay could have been much better, but note it's not nothing and that’s something.

Finale

Human beings have had a pretty good run, but now, it’s almost over, and if you ask me, it’s about time.

We reached our apogee around 478 BCE, when both Confucius and Socrates were alive.  (Granted, Socrates was only 8 or so, but still, that’s a lot of simultaneous smarts.)

It’s been downhill ever since.

I mean, think about it: back in those days, even children could speak Ancient Greek!  

And it only took one person—Confucius—to know all there was to know about Confucianism!  Nowadays, it requires entire academic departments to barely scratch the surface of his teachings.

You might argue that we’ve advanced since 500BC, what with nuclear power, vaccines, and Dippin’ Dots, The Ice Cream of the Future.  And while that latter item does make a powerful case for human progress, it’s to be noted that humanity managed to carry on three thousand years ago in the absence of that former pair.  No way we’re going to make it another thirty centuries given where we stand these days with those two; it’ll be something of a miracle if we make it another thirty years!

People used to know how to do things.  They could build temples, memorize epic poems, sail across the wine-dark seas, using only the power of the human mind (and granted, the bodies of many slaves and peasants, too).  These days, by contrast, people need a computer communicating with a massive data center just to create a menu for a dinner party.  (Actually, ChatGPT does this quite well.)

We’ve befouled our nest and it’s only a matter of time before the Earth has had it with us and homo sapiens ceases to be.  It’s sad to think about a world without Shakespeare or Mozart or Dippin’ Dots, but since there won’t be anyone around to mourn their loss, I suppose it doesn’t really matter.

Socrates and Confucius knew when to check out; humanity probably should have joined them then, too.

Amitiveness

 I like to do what I like to do and I’m not a fan of doing what I don’t.

I realize that sometimes we have to perform tasks we’d prefer not to, but why can’t life be more about fulfilling more of our preferences?

I’m guessing that our hunter-gatherer ancestors didn’t spend a lot of time engaged in activities that they didn’t want to, so it’s likely that we’re genetically hard-wired to mostly only do what we desire. No wonder it’s so hard to get out of bed sometimes and why it takes so long to get up the gumption to schedule a dental exam.

Deferred gratification is great and all, but isn’t a marshmallow in the mouth worth two in the researcher’s hand?

Perhaps I’d be more successful if I were more regularly willing to privilege the needs of my future self over those of my current self, but when it comes down to a matter of whether the here-and-now or the there-and-then is the one who has to suck it up: sorry Future Guy.

If you love what you do, you’ll never have to work a day in your life, but the same goes for being chronically unemployed and the thing about the latter option is that it means you never ever need to wear socks.

Doing what you must “builds character,” but you what also has that effect? Coming to grips with the guilty feelings of not having done what you should have.

It’s been shown time and again that the lawn isn’t going to mow itself, but as the 18th century British Empiricist philosopher David Hume reminds us, we can’t be sure that just because it’s always been that way in the past that it will continue to be that way in the future, and who am I to argue with one of the greatest thinkers in Western history?

This is what I wanted to say and now I’ve said it; I’m glad!

Nothing

I’ve got nothing, nada, zip, zilch zero. I’m empty, barren, vacant; even my synonym generator has no words.

Blame it on the time of year, the weather, my upbringing, and what I had or didn’t have for breakfast.  There’s no such thing as free will, anyway, so it’s not my fault, the Universe itself made all this happen; I’m just along for the ride.

I could be sleeping, then I wouldn’t be bored.  But is there anything more boring than sleeping? (I ask that merely rhetorically; don’t let’s bore ourselves with detailed explanations.)

Would that we could avail ourselves of the subjunctive.  Don’t let that get in the way of commands.  Is anyone asking questions?  

Run-on sentences are one way that some people, at least those who live meaningful lives, might express themselves in ways that others, who aren’t as fortunate, wouldn’t be able to unless they experienced an infusion of good will from unnamed sources who choose to remain anonymous because they don’t want their identities revealed.  

Get it?  Got it.  Good.

I’m just trying to make my way in a world that seems so similar to this one that no one can tell the difference.  Does that make sense or is sense something that can’t be understood via false dichotomies?

As I sit here, I’m sitting; when I stand for something, I do so on my own two feet; I won’t take this lying down unless I’m reclining.  Do you know what I mean or are there other options for making meaning?  Try baking cookies, why don’t you?

Remark how this is an example of the unremarkable; notice, then, what you don’t notice, and remember: never forget.

Today is the first day of the rest of your life, or maybe it’s the last one of the previous part.  In any case, it’s all it’s all there is in this moment, right now.  Tomorrow’s another day, and so is the day after.

Nothing doing, doing nothing.