Your writing really scratched an itch for me. It's so easy to imagine how good it'll feel when we achieve our goals, but so hard to ever feel it. I used to get that a lot with writing when I was younger. I remember finishing my first "book" and thinking it was going to unlock some sort incomprehensible happiness that I'd never felt before... but then I just finished... and everything was the same. I think I've learnt since then to attune my focus so I appreciate the moments of "in between" and not just the moment where I cross the goal off my list
The anticlimactic nature of achieveing our goals is insightful. It's a blessing, really. Demonstrates the futility desirous craving, the illusion of ultimate fulfilment, but also that the point of the work is to keep working. The discipline is the art. the practice is the goal. As teh Zen proverb goes: "Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water"
I'm gonna have to write that proverb down somewhere, because that's such a good way of putting it.
When I think of this stuff in extreme cases, I always think about how rich people must have their own kind of suffering once they make enough money, effectively rendering all of their actions as pointless. That's not to say that I feel sorry for them, or that money is the be all and end all, but I find that the example is a clear way of picturing what it must be like to have everything you've set out to achieve, and how hollow everything must feel afterwards. I almost think that being disappointed and wanting to achieve more is more exciting than having all you want. I've written a little about it in some of my unpublished writing actually. There's a bit where one of the characters says "I think I now understand when we die" and goes on to explain that it's in the "resignation to contentment" and that "We lose hope that there's any more to ourselves... and we wilt."
I definitely haven't got it all figured out, but I think about those lines a lot when I think of success/having the things I want... and I like to believe it's better to keep trying to change than it is to have it all.
That comment ended up being way longer than I thought it would be. Hopefully it made some amount of sense and didn't go too off track 😅
It's a rife subject, with so much to ponder. I think it helps to draw a distinction between desire and longing. Between want and yearning. Between craving and thrist. Desire, want, craving seek to fill a lack that can never be filled. They grasp at a satisfaction that there is no satisfiying. They are a means of avoiding an emptiness we'd rather not feel. But, longing revels in the rich overflow of the unnameable missing. It knows that the intimacy with the yearning is unquenchable. That it's only fulfilment is the thirst.
The goal-setting, the planning, the being engaged with a work we are excited about is all to the good. The part that gets thorny is becoming attached to the results. Letting go of that and knowing, as you've written so beautifully here, that the awards and accolades aren't what it's really all about. It may feed the ego like a sugar rush, but it doesn't feed the soul. That's what the joy and wonder and mystery are for, and they can be found in the everyday objects and activities of every ordinary day.
Wow. This was exactly what I needed today. Kind of uncanny, actually.
Also, the book that's peeking out--Hope for the Flowers--is one I had long ago (a gift from my mom) and lost in a move. Nice to see it here, resurfacing.
Glad you like it! That really is uncanny! I wasn't familiar with the book. I regularly raid the free bins at the local library for things I can incorporate into my collage work. This one just happened to be there a few weeks back. I think this may be the third piece I've used it for. Thanks again for reading!
Absolutely, your reflections hit home. Like finding that sweet spot between the past and the future. Remembering the good times while staying excited for what's next.
Your writing really scratched an itch for me. It's so easy to imagine how good it'll feel when we achieve our goals, but so hard to ever feel it. I used to get that a lot with writing when I was younger. I remember finishing my first "book" and thinking it was going to unlock some sort incomprehensible happiness that I'd never felt before... but then I just finished... and everything was the same. I think I've learnt since then to attune my focus so I appreciate the moments of "in between" and not just the moment where I cross the goal off my list
The anticlimactic nature of achieveing our goals is insightful. It's a blessing, really. Demonstrates the futility desirous craving, the illusion of ultimate fulfilment, but also that the point of the work is to keep working. The discipline is the art. the practice is the goal. As teh Zen proverb goes: "Before enlightenment; chop wood, carry water. After enlightenment; chop wood, carry water"
I'm gonna have to write that proverb down somewhere, because that's such a good way of putting it.
When I think of this stuff in extreme cases, I always think about how rich people must have their own kind of suffering once they make enough money, effectively rendering all of their actions as pointless. That's not to say that I feel sorry for them, or that money is the be all and end all, but I find that the example is a clear way of picturing what it must be like to have everything you've set out to achieve, and how hollow everything must feel afterwards. I almost think that being disappointed and wanting to achieve more is more exciting than having all you want. I've written a little about it in some of my unpublished writing actually. There's a bit where one of the characters says "I think I now understand when we die" and goes on to explain that it's in the "resignation to contentment" and that "We lose hope that there's any more to ourselves... and we wilt."
I definitely haven't got it all figured out, but I think about those lines a lot when I think of success/having the things I want... and I like to believe it's better to keep trying to change than it is to have it all.
That comment ended up being way longer than I thought it would be. Hopefully it made some amount of sense and didn't go too off track 😅
It's a rife subject, with so much to ponder. I think it helps to draw a distinction between desire and longing. Between want and yearning. Between craving and thrist. Desire, want, craving seek to fill a lack that can never be filled. They grasp at a satisfaction that there is no satisfiying. They are a means of avoiding an emptiness we'd rather not feel. But, longing revels in the rich overflow of the unnameable missing. It knows that the intimacy with the yearning is unquenchable. That it's only fulfilment is the thirst.
I've never seen someone explain it better than this.
It's cleared it up a whole lot more in my mind. Thank you
One of the most beautiful posts you’ve shared. Thank you.
Thank you so much! That's so incredibly kind of you!
The goal-setting, the planning, the being engaged with a work we are excited about is all to the good. The part that gets thorny is becoming attached to the results. Letting go of that and knowing, as you've written so beautifully here, that the awards and accolades aren't what it's really all about. It may feed the ego like a sugar rush, but it doesn't feed the soul. That's what the joy and wonder and mystery are for, and they can be found in the everyday objects and activities of every ordinary day.
Beautifully put! "It ma feed the ego...but it doesn't feed the soul" - This! Precisely!
rhythm and repetition ! … of this I understand ! - enjoyed the read once again 🌱
Yes! The two most indispensable part of not only my daily creative practice but also my daily living. Thanks so much for reading!
Keep creating 🖼️
I don't think I could stop even if I wanted to 😂
:) - don't even want to think about it !!
Wouldn't dare 😉
Wow. This was exactly what I needed today. Kind of uncanny, actually.
Also, the book that's peeking out--Hope for the Flowers--is one I had long ago (a gift from my mom) and lost in a move. Nice to see it here, resurfacing.
Glad you like it! That really is uncanny! I wasn't familiar with the book. I regularly raid the free bins at the local library for things I can incorporate into my collage work. This one just happened to be there a few weeks back. I think this may be the third piece I've used it for. Thanks again for reading!
Absolutely, your reflections hit home. Like finding that sweet spot between the past and the future. Remembering the good times while staying excited for what's next.
Beautiful. I'm really happy to have discovered your work. Your art is stunning, but this is a gorgeous, reflective piece.
Well said! It's about moving your goal posts consistently, while also being generous and forgiving. Thanks so much for reading!