Dear Diary,
A week ago I already talked with you about the process by which a person constantly, without cease, generates for themselves lighter or heavier sadness, pain or simply discomfort. In the boundless inner space, in the personal cosmos, a person themselves, uninvited, forms a certain energetic clump, a clot, or however else you might call a construct, and ceaselessly illuminates it with their attention, which, upon reflecting, returns to its source bearing a bouquet of every possible negative emotion. And this has its charm – I find examples on Facebook where quite neutral events from several or many years ago make people writhe in inner pain as if they were happening right now. As if for those several or many years the person has been living with a heated rod wedged into an improper place. And they’re doing it to themselves! Isn’t it fascinating? :-)
Of course, in the outside world this is carefully hidden – having assumed the Krasnukha ogre’s posture and facial expression, the person proudly in comments and speeches trashes the life line that, as they claim, distorted people and events, but, little one, we all see that behind that imaginary bravery hides an ordinary failure, long mired in their own valley of tears and because of that having fallen behind the life that has long since raced ahead. A failure, because the choice between “getting stuck” and “not getting stuck” was made by themselves. A failure, because, probably, it would be impossibly hard to find a successful person with the time, desire and energy to blame those around them for their imaginary failures.
But let’s return to lighter cases. At a moment of discomfort or sadness, it’s enough to simply ask yourself – “What sh*t am I currently illuminating that I’m feeling this background oppression?” And, look, sure enough – while you were calmly chewing your breakfast sandwich, a memory of an ex who left you many years ago from your wild youth slipped into your memory, a neighbor who spoke an unkind word, a not the most pleasant conversation with a supervisor, or a wallet that emptied faster than you’d like. The habit of creating energetic clumps within yourself and reflecting slight discomfort from them over the years takes such deep root that sometimes you catch yourself in a state where the clump is there, the sadness is there, but there’s no reason for it all – the process is happening simply out of habit, because it’s always been this way, is, and must be.
It’s enough to simply see the mechanism itself and understand its futility and absurdity – the process where inner energy is compressed into a formless object reflecting our attention as that background sadness. It’s enough to simply tell yourself “damn, what an idiotism, I’m currently creating sadness, pain and discomfort for myself!” and the construct in the chest disappears, the inner cosmos from a compressed state again fills our entire space, and a light smile illuminates the face.
Have a meaningful Saturday. And I’m off to the pool with the crew! :-)
