Pluto
Meowing to go out
- Dec 27, 2020
- 3,420
Life is... what? Good? Bad? Sublime? Dreadful?
No, Life is. That's the whole philosophy, if it can be called that. It can be rephrased thus: existence exists.
So how is it useful or practical to know that existence exists? Because our immediate compulsion is to add to it. Perspectives, opinions, viewpoints, ideologies. Cognitive frameworks. Note that each view was not with you upon birth. None of them will be relevant after death. Thus, none have any more value than a leaf blowing across the street. What remains throughout is only the empty, invisible, indeterminate background, forever just out of the reach of the intellect. The eternal stillness of existence existing.
Even the adventures of the greatest ruler. The narratives of the mightiest religion. People with such extreme passion that they would kill or die for their beliefs. It makes no difference; all are just passing clouds, endlessly vanishing into the ether. Like light flickering over a cinema screen, nothing really happens.
Therefore, to deeply understand that 'life is' is to initiate an implosion. Like Socrates, it becomes clear that we know nothing. It is obvious that 'all things vanish into the Tao'. Every belief is in the process of perishing. Every lifeform is in the process of dying. Every religion is decaying. Every culture is on the way out. Yet none of this is really happening.
Then it gets personal. "I am that I am" is the only true statement of identity. Anything trying to be definable, specific, comprehensible or enduring is merely another short-lived mental phantom; a wave of thought dissolving back into the ocean of consciousness. Nationality, gender, species, achievements, lessons learned. Each is made of a substance called nothing. Not only are identities futile ghosts, but even the very person at the centre of the adventure is empty, too. It's worse than death; it's realising that you were never born.
How many seconds will it take until the mind fills in the terrifying void with an objection, an opinion? Anything to restore the thought-based human identity. Believing in thoughts switches on the projector and activates the familiar comfort zone of identity, but the price to pay is both delusion and suffering. Events that are not happening, for no one.
No, Life is. That's the whole philosophy, if it can be called that. It can be rephrased thus: existence exists.
So how is it useful or practical to know that existence exists? Because our immediate compulsion is to add to it. Perspectives, opinions, viewpoints, ideologies. Cognitive frameworks. Note that each view was not with you upon birth. None of them will be relevant after death. Thus, none have any more value than a leaf blowing across the street. What remains throughout is only the empty, invisible, indeterminate background, forever just out of the reach of the intellect. The eternal stillness of existence existing.
Even the adventures of the greatest ruler. The narratives of the mightiest religion. People with such extreme passion that they would kill or die for their beliefs. It makes no difference; all are just passing clouds, endlessly vanishing into the ether. Like light flickering over a cinema screen, nothing really happens.
Therefore, to deeply understand that 'life is' is to initiate an implosion. Like Socrates, it becomes clear that we know nothing. It is obvious that 'all things vanish into the Tao'. Every belief is in the process of perishing. Every lifeform is in the process of dying. Every religion is decaying. Every culture is on the way out. Yet none of this is really happening.
Then it gets personal. "I am that I am" is the only true statement of identity. Anything trying to be definable, specific, comprehensible or enduring is merely another short-lived mental phantom; a wave of thought dissolving back into the ocean of consciousness. Nationality, gender, species, achievements, lessons learned. Each is made of a substance called nothing. Not only are identities futile ghosts, but even the very person at the centre of the adventure is empty, too. It's worse than death; it's realising that you were never born.
How many seconds will it take until the mind fills in the terrifying void with an objection, an opinion? Anything to restore the thought-based human identity. Believing in thoughts switches on the projector and activates the familiar comfort zone of identity, but the price to pay is both delusion and suffering. Events that are not happening, for no one.
