Having become, functionally, atheist (or whatever you call a deist that doesn’t believe in afterlife); performed vigorous shadow work (without knowing it was called that) that now manages my (still formally undiagnosed) depression; and meditated my way and/or read enough conventionally philosophic and/or esoteric/occulted material; I’ve melted my personality enough to likely be statistically significantly differently amalgamated than when the cliff fell away a little more than 4 years ago.
Praxis of the pedagogy was the only way to reform as some sort of jalopy Voltron. A past lover became a best friend, and her patience and wisdom helped the re-assimilation. And Summer died, and I grieved not her death, but that I did not fully appreciate the beauty of her soul until it was gone. And I meditated, practiced gratitude for what I had been able to appreciate, and resolved to do better in the future.
The driver here was a conceptual unfolding of “one life to live” much like the unfolded proton of The Three Body Problem. Inscribed upon the cliche before carefully re-shelling the walnut are new commandments.
- Strive to practice and create grace as often as you can, but give it to yourself as well.
- Value your encounters, but not so much that you engage in bad ones, or engage too much in good ones.
- Control is ephemeral; if all you get from trying to hold it is pain, let it go.
- All things end, how well you do with them when you’re with them is up to you.
- Whatever power you need is already yours. God is a middleman.
It’s so trite to write, but living it feels correct. An equanimity brought about by holding grace as the goal, freely given when available, and saved up as needed.