The senses of Life

I was sitting here, getting frustrated at an interface that won't allow me to do what I want to do, and I looked at my poor, spotted, week-old bananas. They were fading fast. Oh, dear! I looked back at my screen, back at the bananas, back, back...

So I did the only logical thing! I sent off an email message to the people in charge of the interface, switched off the computer, then turned to the worktop: out came the eggs, the flour, the sugar, the butter..., and the bananas. I rolled up my sleeves, tied on my apron, and set to making banana bread. What else?

I like making things with my hands. I don't use electric mixers (though I love them), so I can really feel the weight of the dough at my wrist, the rasp of the spoon handle in my palm. There is an intimacy to it, knowing exactly what is going into the bowl; what is coming out of the baking tin; what is on the plate of those I love, whom I will serve the food. There is an intimacy to the taste as well, unique each time: maybe a little raw, maybe a little overdone, maybe a surprise flavour from an ingredient substitution.

I also like sewing and doing cross stitch. There is a seeming magic in the way tread creates isolated bits of colour which, in turn, become images. Or how I might take an old item of clothing a make something new out of it (usually cushion covers!) that will have meaning every time they are used - the memories are not lost, torn and ragged, but rather they are reborn into new identities. I can look at them, or others may, and feel the smile creep up. I can feel the textures and reminisce, seeing again in my mind's eye. It is a circle of Life. My friend shared a video of a wise woman reminding me of the essential value of handling when we create. How right she was!

Right now, as I wait for the goodies in the oven, I can smell its aroma, wafting out in the air pushed out by the fan I can hear. When I get it out, I will feel its warmth and hear the metal of the rack as it cools down. So, I decided to do the only logical thing: I am writing this entry for you, sharing the moment. I can see the words forming; feel the keys sink under my tips; hear the typing.

Sitting at the computer, dealing only with my issues, getting upset, I had limited myself. Creating I use all my senses, which expand beyond me, and share their experience with others.

You have to really use your senses to Live.

The right to feel good

I realise that, in the later entries, I have been dealing mostly with things that worry me. I've also realised these 'darker' entries are a by-product of an intent not to be too peppy all the time, not in public, least of all in writing.

I suppose, to some extent, I still suffer from 'literary (artistic) prejudice'. That's when someone is immediately considered a 'better' author just because s/he deals with very serious matters (drugs, crime, depression, and similar). This person is then deemed to have a 'deeper understanding of society' by the mere fact that s/he chooses to dwell on the less auspicious sides or events. As a consequence, there are cases like that of Jane Austen, who was slighted for presenting the seemingly frivolous and partial existence of genteel society. Or the way some films are sneered at for being just 'feel good romps', automatically making them unable to carry a worthy message on life. 

This 'artistic prejudice' is a close relation to our denial of all things joyous. We are taught to respect the imposition of pain, horror and aggression as a means to 'educate us,' rather than to respect enjoyment, delight and kindness. Just like children who misbehave, the nasty stuff gets more attention. Naturally, we also want attention, recognition and praise. We curtail our exploration of nice things, calling them our 'guilty pleasures'; we become embarrassed of our dislike of certain pieces; we even profess to admire certain people, accepting their dooming dicta because they are acclaimed as 'learned'.

'Oh, of course it's great when we are all happy, but who gets a PhD in it? Just look at the high numbers of psychological afflictions our society suffers from,' some will say. Right, well, in fact, there are already a few people who specialise in the study of wellbeing and happiness. These people are considered sideliners to traditional psychology yet their numbers are on the rise. There is no shame in loving life: in loving joy, sunny days, babies or puppies. There is no shame in recognising there are problems but rather than focus on them, focus on implementing solutions.

Thus, I decree:
It is our inalienable right as Natural beings to be happy and avoid pain (so long we do not cause the loss of this right to any other Natural being).
It is our right to be honest about our likes and dislikes, whether they coincide with popular opinion or not.

It is our right to present our joys to the world so they can multiply.

It is our right to have our pink-tinged world respected, and not scorned.

And it is our right to create a predominantly happy reality.

It is our duty to make the Universe feel good.

It is our right to feel good.

Selfishness

There really are few things that truly upset me, but even those all have a common denominator: selfishness. I honestly, wholeheartedly feel repulsed by anything related to selfishness.

I realise there is a certain amount of self-awareness and self-love that every being requires for self-preservation. What really gets me is the overwhelming near-sighted attitude prevalent in our world. It's everywhere, and it's killing us all.

Talk about responsibility: 'I gain' is parent to 'we lose'.

It is this relationship that explains the oft-mentioned, but not less shocking, fact that about 1% of people 'own' more assets than the lower 80% of the population together. The amazing thing is that, in our selfish-led existence, we aim to perpetuate this divide, so long the 'I gain' manages (or has the illusion of possibility) to enter that 1%. Now, don't get me wrong, I think the kind of life enjoyed by that small group is great! I just can't find it in me to justify it at present, when it requires us to perpetuate the divide. It requires that the individual be selfish with regards to other people.

Selfishness separates us from our fellows.

Similarly, I find selfishness at the heart of cheap mass deals, while it also peeks out from under the folds of vanity consumption. If you doubt me, think about any bauble made from plastic that you have, and consider it's whole production until it reached you - the 'made in', the workers conditions there, the effect the mass produced thing has on the understanding of value in general. Then, think about the components in that year-old mobile phone you want to exchange for the newer version, and think about the components of the latter - do you know how much mining, refining, water and air pollution has gone into them?

The first kind of selfishness, a spin-off of the previous problem, tears us from our fellow human kind based on (mainly) nationality. It creates borders, conflict and inter-national resentment.
The second selfishness, swallowing more and more products, alienates us from the sources, from the provider, the plentiful Mother Nature.

But selfishness is not only a matter of grand socio-econo-political awareness. Selfishness kills us softly, insidiously, daily. It is the root of all disputes within a family, with your friends, with your lover. What did you last get angry at? Who did what, and why did that upset you? I have heard of people getting angry at friends getting invited to parties they have not been asked to; or others complaining to mourners for not having been informed beforehand; or a couple fighting over the dirty dishes (the one who did not clean ignored the needs of the other; or vice versa); or people hitting others for a scratch on a car... It is not that unusual, really.

I suppose it is the thoughtlessness of selfishness that hurts so. I guess, that is my own selfish position. But if you took time to think about your wishes, would you still make the same choices? Would you choose the separation and anger?

Selfishness, the real root of all evil. May you never know its scourge.