@georgeob1,
georgeob1 wrote:
I think all this boils down to the occasionally observable fact that happiness and even joy are not things that happen to us. They are, instead... choices we can make ... usually when we are at peace and maybe a little wise. I'm not always able to do it (and I wasted many years not doing it much at all) but I am often aware of literally choosing to behave cheerfully and joyfully, and, as a result I quickly become engulfed in those feelings. I find the same with family and friends - those I know and love - their miseries and joys are almost always the result of how they choose to look at what besets or challenges them. Letting go of preoccupation with one's self is part of it too. Joy and delight are found outside one's self, not within - in the experience and contemplation of external things, and ... people. There's something interesting and fun to be found in most everyone. Sometimes it's a challenge finding it, and sometimes the attempt goes wrong, but what the hell ! I do enjoy teasing and needling those I like.
Began at the originating post and stopped here because it pretty closely aligns with the thoughts that have been developing as I've moved through this thread.
I think georgeob1 is spot on here.
It is a matter of choice.
The simple physical act of smiling, even if forced, can trigger changes in your brain chemistry that equate to positive emotion. How much more powerful is laughing, having fun, engaging in affectionate gestures with the people you love. You can, if you want, push yourself into a more positive place.
However, whether we call it self-reflection or self-indulgence, the choice of preoccupation with self is one we make not because we are too lazy to pursue joy, but because we find it somehow desirable to be wrapped up in melancholia, to be absorbed in our selves.
The idea that preoccupation with self leads, most often, to bad outcomes resonates with me, but at the same time I am not prepared, intellectually, to assert that "self" is not only to be avoided, but to be obliterated.
Instead I think that existence cannot but seem like a paradox to us and that we need to resist our desire to have an answer upon which we can easily act.
Why do people like music in a minor key?
Why do so many cultures not only incorporate, but focus on tragedy in their story-telling?
Some people will define themselves in terms of their suffering, and will look to find opportunties to draw attention to their plights, and I see this not as self-pity but self expression.
The key, I suppose, is that if you lean towards the light, you shouldn't allow those who lean towards the dark to bring you down.
When I was much younger I took some comfort in the notion that once you reach a ripe old age, you develop a certain wisdom that brings you acceptance of impending death. Hell you have to die of something.
Then my grandmother of 99 years of age was rushed to the hospital and proceeded to have a series of heart attacks and strokes that would have killed a herd of elephants. What a courageous spirit I thought, she loves life too much to let go.
I eventually learned that her sister, who remained at her bedside for days, urged her to "let go."
"It's OK Flossie, you can let go. You'll be with Charles and God."
After three days in a virtual comma, my grandmother Flossie opened her eyes and said to my great-aunt:
"But I don't want to, I'm so afraid."
