I found this in my (offline) journal from last May, and thought I'd share it:
Biking back from the park, I considered the practice of laughter. It is apparently as good for your health as exercise, so I hear. I began to laugh. Practicing laughter. Forcing laughter. Inducing laughter.
It is funny that we (I) have a belief that one must
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The second part is something that I think about constantly. The bottom line is: so what? Regardless of physical limitations and physiological processes I am still having this thing called experience. Understanding this better could either be interpreted as spoiling the process or as appreciating it that much more.
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With the second part, I totally agree. I liked this old journal entry of mine because what I was experiencing was such a great example of opposites explosively uniting: The total seriousness of existential crisis + indiscriminate laughter.
I am now learning that forms, even if they are "illusions" in relation to a higher plane, are still real forms, or at least "real illusions" on their own plane. Even if you're experiencing a fantasy, it's still a real experience, which has something to say about your true will.
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When we are no longer restricted by the idea that anything matters, so do we shed the restrictions on what subject matter after which we may model our experience - and if we're clever enough (or lucky enough, or some combination thereof), we can sculpt it into something beautiful.
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