Picking up where we left off...
Perhaps, in a moment of expansiveness, we book a one way flight to a far away country, or decide to devote our lives to a cause or religion. There's nothing wrong with that in itself, but it's also important to take into account that there will be a day when that ultra high turns into an ultra low, and life is, essentially, a marathon, not a sprint. Unless you want to die an early death, that is. The difference between a sober-minded decision and an manic decision is the emotional hangover you feel when the high goes away.
Every high turns into a low. Every low turns into a high. The height to which you soar indicates the depth to which you'll fall.
Many people advocate living for the highs. Hunter S. Thompson writes: "Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
The only thing Hunter left out of this quote is how much this way of living hurts. And it hurts. Like crazy. You're soaring one day, but once that's gone, not only is it gone, but you wish it was back, so you feel bad about feeling bad (see part 1). And saying the highs make it worth it is like saying the good times in an abusive or dysfunctional relationship make it worth it. Would you tell a friend to think that way? Why, then, would you tell yourself to think that way?
The long story short is: as I grow up (slowly), I recognize more and more why the Buddha advocated "The Middle Way." It's not about denying the highs and lows when they come. They come naturally. One day, you might just wake up and feel like doo-doo. Or you wake up and feel like you could move a mountain. And that's all well and good, but don't get stuck anywhere. Don't try to perpetuate something which is ultimately a phase. Don't think you know what is "right" from "wrong," "good" from "bad." But if you give yourself permission to be, that's a start. Then, over time, the fits and starts of a panicked way of living will mellow out. It's not that you'll never feel good again. Rather, feeling high will be replaced by feeling at peace. It's the difference between feeling really good some of the time and really bad some of the time, or feeling good all of the time, no matter what.
Perhaps, in a moment of expansiveness, we book a one way flight to a far away country, or decide to devote our lives to a cause or religion. There's nothing wrong with that in itself, but it's also important to take into account that there will be a day when that ultra high turns into an ultra low, and life is, essentially, a marathon, not a sprint. Unless you want to die an early death, that is. The difference between a sober-minded decision and an manic decision is the emotional hangover you feel when the high goes away.
Every high turns into a low. Every low turns into a high. The height to which you soar indicates the depth to which you'll fall.
Many people advocate living for the highs. Hunter S. Thompson writes: "Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
The only thing Hunter left out of this quote is how much this way of living hurts. And it hurts. Like crazy. You're soaring one day, but once that's gone, not only is it gone, but you wish it was back, so you feel bad about feeling bad (see part 1). And saying the highs make it worth it is like saying the good times in an abusive or dysfunctional relationship make it worth it. Would you tell a friend to think that way? Why, then, would you tell yourself to think that way?
The long story short is: as I grow up (slowly), I recognize more and more why the Buddha advocated "The Middle Way." It's not about denying the highs and lows when they come. They come naturally. One day, you might just wake up and feel like doo-doo. Or you wake up and feel like you could move a mountain. And that's all well and good, but don't get stuck anywhere. Don't try to perpetuate something which is ultimately a phase. Don't think you know what is "right" from "wrong," "good" from "bad." But if you give yourself permission to be, that's a start. Then, over time, the fits and starts of a panicked way of living will mellow out. It's not that you'll never feel good again. Rather, feeling high will be replaced by feeling at peace. It's the difference between feeling really good some of the time and really bad some of the time, or feeling good all of the time, no matter what.