It got me to thinking about the “Starbucksification” of the world, about plastic people, about superficiality, about not being real. Here are a few thoughts.
Do we not drift in and out of being “real”? Do we not drift in and out of emotional presence? Are we not at times more plastic than others?
If I live less than I could have, if a given day has less purposive engagement than was possible, is that a partial suicide? Did I not sacrifice part of my life to convenience, or laziness, or emotional or intellectual rigidity.
Flip side: if I spend my life obsessed with living well, obsessed with not missing a moment, not missing one opportunity to learn or grow, or feel joy and connection, does not this mindset ITSELF lead to rigidity and the loss of “moments” of various sorts?
I am using a good form of self growth, a good form of meditation. But it is my strong belief–and this has been echoed by the head teacher–that it is quite possible to be diligent in sitting, diligent in following directions, and yet to spend DECADES substantially as you were.
I like this concept of Tao, of a way which is a bit foggy, which is imprecise, but quite real, and quite useful none the less.
It seems to me at times that the fetishization of efficiency in the industrial and business worlds has trickled down to interpersonal relations, in which other people’s use is our personal satisfaction, and we expect them to be efficient in that. As a physical act, sex is somewhat efficient, but no amount of skill can substitute for true emotional openness, intimacy, and tenderness.
Ah, few attempts to record vaporous perceptual threads that flit into and out of my life. Lines are inefficient. So is time.