शक्नोतीहैव यः सोढुं प्राक्शरीरविमोक्षणात् ।
कामक्रोधोद्भवं वेगं स युक्तः स सुखी नरः ॥
Before giving up this body, if one is able to tolerate the urges of the senses and check the force of desire and anger, he is well situated and is happy in this world."
(Bhagavad Gita 5:23)
Trapped in a loop of momentary happiness, extracting fleeting joy from objects, outcomes, and status?
The dopamine hit would eventually fade, as it always does.
But the difficulty is only in the mind. The process is indeed time-consuming, but it is worthwhile.
Outsourcing happiness to the world & being a slave to impulses, stops. Find the quiet, unshakeable anchor in self.
The mind is a highly complex system. Applying immense pressure of concentrated awareness to a psyche that hasn't been structurally reinforced through "ethical living and character-building", the system will inevitably fracture with psychotic breaks and panic attacks.
Good piece on the downside of meditation.
"The point of meditation was never merely to relax or just 'clear your mind' but to wholly rearrange one’s relationship to one’s thoughts. This might make sense for a Buddhist monk pursuing the great unbinding, but not for a random Brooklynite who just wants to be more productive at work."
https://t.co/UKd3zgkFTj
The problem is not people being uneducated.
The problem is that people are educated just enough to believe what they have been taught, and not educated enough to question anything from what they have been taught.
“Everybody wants to save the Earth; nobody wants to help Mom do the dishes.”
- P.J. O'Rourke
This famous quote points to a common flaw in human nature: our tendency to become inspired by grand, heroic causes while overlooking the small, practical responsibilities directly in front of us. People can easily rally around enormous, abstract goals like saving the planet because they feel noble, exciting, and meaningful.
Yet true character and kindness are often revealed through the ordinary, repetitive moments of everyday life. Washing the dishes or helping a family member may seem insignificant, but these quiet acts require effort without recognition, applause, or public attention.
Ultimately, the quote offers a humorous but pointed reminder that making the world a better place often begins with simple acts of responsibility and genuine kindness within our own homes.
One of the worst qualities a person can have is the need to show how smart they are by catching others' mistakes.
In legal work, this may be useful, but in life, it's a disaster.
One of the greatest cheat codes in life is to never get offended. Train yourself to have thick skin. Don't take things personally. Let others disagree with you. Being easily offended means you're easily manipulated. If you value peace of mind, avoid getting offended.
The decline of beauty in everyday life shows up in even the smallest things, like tickets, where we’ve let our obsession with efficiency win out over personality and artistic expression.
Like the ticket from the Guggenheim Museum in New York, which I've shared in the first photo. It's an iconic building that could have so easily inspired a beautiful ticket design, but they opted for the most economical option instead.
Each example of this decline isn't a big deal, but the world becomes less charming and enchanted when people stop caring about craftsmanship.
For some alternatives, scroll through the photos. The second one shows old Japanese train tickets, the third one shows an old circus ticket, and the fourth one is a World Series ticket from 2002, which felt magical when I got to hold one as an eight-year-old.
So yes, there’s definitely been a decline. And maybe we’re okay with it! But it’s worth remembering that this decline isn’t inevitable. There is another way.
The most underrated skill in personal growth is not fixing, but noticing. "Huh, Ii got weirdly angry at that email." "Huh, I had energy at 11pm again." You can't run experiments on data you never collected.
This was my favorite painting as a kid. It hung in our living room, where I would stare at the little train on the right edge of the painting and wonder where it was going. As I got older, I thought more about the horse. Then, the person riding it.
Year after year, I’d ask my parents to pass it down to me. Once I turned 30, my mother said I was finally mature enough to own it.
Only then did I realize that my great-grandfather painted it in 1925.