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If I Felt Any Happier, It Might Be Labeled as the 8th Deadly Sin

Val is a life-long student of unexplored human potential and many challenges that self-honesty throws at us on that path.

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Is It Supposed to Be About "Happiness" of That Satiric? Hmm...

Let me start with a little note to those of my readers who, more than once, must have wondered over my satires -- "how miserable someone must be to write all that".

Well, appearances are known to deceive, and the same may be true about some of the aspects of someone's literary expressions.

However, if you are not in mood to give up that dark impression over my somewhat critical views about much of the cultural paradigm -- especially to somehow connect it with an advertised blissful disposition that follows -- it's fine with me.

Okay, let's move on with the story, but I must assert that no matter how you choose to explain it to yourself, it's pretty hard to "relate" to this intensity of joy if one doesn't possess a sample of it in one's emotional memory bank. It would be like trying to describe the taste of strawberries to someone who never tasted them.

But, what a heck, if I can't describe it, at least I can brag about it, as if trying to make everybody envious a little. And "bragging" it will be to anyone who can't make a difference between it and a simple innocent sharing.

So you bought yourself the car of your dreams, and you want to share your joy of it with your friends. Oops! Wrong move, buddy, because what you are doing turns into nothing else but a good, old "show-off".

How can I live with a similar verdict?

Well, it's one of the "secrets" of my audaciously notorious happiness, that I am not what I would call a "mental beggar", so my happiness doesn't depend on how much I am loved, respected, validated, accepted...that stuff.

To me, happiness is an emotional magic that has to be cultivated and constantly refined as an inside job, being a result of a selective processing of the factual reality. And I have done my homework in that department. Done it well.

Actually done it so well that there are times when I am quite prone to believe in that theory about "souls from other places in space reincarnating here on earth -- and I happen to be one."

On a more down-to-earth note, I happen to be just a little different human specimen, who just has a hard time understanding all this self-inflicted suffering, with a blooming stupidity in this beloved world of ours -- while I have succeeded to emotionally detach myself from all that in this eternal quest for creating better models of psycho-physical functioning.

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Championing as a Happy Mankind - Lover

Not even in those developmental stages of youth did I have as many illusions as I am observing at fully grownup, highly educated political, religious, medical, and spiritual leaders.

But guess what -- in a way that only I can truly understand, I love this mankind of ours more than many a self-proclaimed professional altruist could say it without lying.

I love people so much because I can emotionally afford to love them. By not being on guard, by not being suspiciously paranoid, by not being competitive, by not being normative -- which pretty much defines me as a people-lover. For, we can't truly love if we can't be completely relaxed in company of others and feel "at home" in this world.

Of course, there are things I don't like about people, but it never means that something is inherently wrong with them, it's simply that we are incompatible in that respect. Like, see me in a shoe store picking one pair over the next -- which doesn't mean something is wrong with them -- I just don't see myself wearing them.

Also, by "normal" standards of reasoning, I would have a lot to forgive; but for the life in me, I don't even know how it would feel to forgive, and why it would be necessary at all.

For all those people who wronged me in the past simply couldn't help being themselves. It would be like expecting cats to bark. And even if they had done it on purpose just to hurt me, again, it was their nature, and they couldn't be any other way in that moment's computation of their behavior.

To me it's like blaming someone for being born short, or with no good singing voice. How many times I was facing a stupid person and had to see how nothing but stupidity could possibly be generated by that mind.

Thus, their causing me a hurt is like a virus causing me a cough -- it's just being a virus and doing what viruses do. In other words, a virus can't help being itself, and the same is true about people. If all wrong-doers could learn to stop it, this world would look different.

And then it's all left to me what attitude I will choose to take about it.

The entire human reality is so beautifully unfolding itself in a steady flow in which everything is just expressing itself. Like a divine symphony of the universe where each instrument of the grand orchestra is playing its own musical contribution. Stupidity being in its eternal dance with smartness, is evolving side by side with it -- and I just love it all immensely. Simply because by hating it I would be only hurting myself -- which is a kind of "against my private religion".

Indeed, there are some over hundred different chemical elements participating in the creative scheme of everything material in us and around us, and there is this incredible diversity of mentalities which we are desperately trying to bridge by calling ourselves empathetic, understanding, what not.

And then, "life" is just a word, to all of us meaning something different, while we are coming from a different intellectual, mental, emotional, and spiritual place, pretending that we are talking about the "same" thing.

Exactly like me in this moment, as I am pretending to expect from others to understand my "version" of happiness, while that word is another of so many other dictionary's generalizations supposed to mean the same to everybody.

Of course, some of you may get a passing and incomplete glimpse of it, mostly using imagination, but being able to imagine the qualitative uniqueness of that happiness is a whole world far from understanding it on experiential level.

This rich collection of verbal expressions has resulted with creation of a virtual collective consciousness where something like "common sense" keeps parading as a common denominator in all sensible reasoning.

And then, there is this "out-of-box" reality, so wondrous, so free, so ecstatic and light, that it would be scary if it was not so divine.

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Immersed in Dynamics of Bliss

Not by more than a gentle shift in mind, or is it heart, or is it my quantum essence -- and I am beyond the whole common emotional repertoire.

I may be in my car at the time, sitting and waiting for the red traffic light to change into green, and in that brief moment I am detached except for a little "umbilical cord" keeping me alerted to that light change, and to my foot resting on the brake.

Is it raining" Is it snowing? Is it sunny? -- and what would any of that matter, because each has its own climatic charm.

And then the light turns green, and there is that little element of absurdity in the moment -- as it ultimately doesn't matter what's the destination of my trip. There is no significance attached to my going to the grocery store, just a pleasure of the experiencing every detail of it.

So Anna wanted a bunch of carrots, two cans of Romano beans, and I wanted some yogurt for myself. And again, all I am experiencing is the beauty of "simply being functional", of flowing in the act of performance, of living each moment and not missing any.

So here is this old lady with her shopping cart blocking the entrance, and moving slowly, and I mean slowly. So I patiently wait. No, I am not wishing her to be a young and shapy chick walking briskly in front of me but not fast enough so that I couldn't scan her body a few times. Nope, I am not "wishing it" -- I am feeling as if that was the reality of the moment, seeing that old lady as a beautiful human being -- just as calm as could be.

Now, we really do create our reality with our mind. And those smart neuroscientists are even telling us that our eyes don't do our seeing, but our mind does it. So, by feeling blissful we paint all our reality into a landscape that's filled with bliss.

And another bunch of those brainiacs are suggesting that we actually live in a simulated, virtual reality -- which further inspires a dude like myself to conduct my own sense of real in a way that's most life-promoting.

So, what's preventing us to experience our life as such a fascinating experience that it almost carries an emotional charge of sexuality. Outrageously impossible? If we can't feel it at ordinary moments, then how is it possible that at a really strong sneeze humans feel a touch of something orgasmic in it?

Hey, I am not even suggesting here that people start sniffing on black pepper and have those deep, "orgasmic sneezes". To cultivate a high gear happiness certainly takes a little more than that.

And so here I am at the end of my personal story about my oddly profound sense of happiness that's a purpose to itself, without any external "stimuli" to justify it. Happiness, that is not "deserved", not produced by the others. or by a hard work, not by amassing possessions, but simply an act of soul that wants to express itself.

I hope that maybe a sentence or two rang a little bell in a reader or two, while causing some thoughts about "possibility" of cultivating some peak emotional experiences and making them our everyday reality.

© 2022 Val Karas

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