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Con/Jur/d, 12/28/2022
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Sura – meraya – majja pamadatthana veramani sikkhapadam samadiyami
I undertake the Precept to refrain from drink and drugs which confuse the mind and reduce mindfulness
It would be dishonest to claim that intoxication felt in any way fundamentally important. life lived with an unclouded mind is not necessarily any less complex or dissatisfactory. But I can't now blame that on the one drink too many, nor 'escape' it with the first few tokes.
Unskilful speech is way more challenging 😉
I'm the kind of person who gives an awful lot to their relationships, which makes it that much stranger when I fall out with friends or no longer speak to someone that I felt head-over-heels for.
But on the positive side, those are mostly relationships which were either heavily one-sided (and now the illusion has been dispelled) or which required me to lie about my fundamental being... so, if nothing lasts, and the only constant is change, then some attachments are better severed before they begin to cut into your growth, right? And for the rest of my relationships, I can feel more grateful for the people who have loved me enough to let me change and grow and be honest, even when it was ugly or displeasing...
I can also still treasure the memories, even if they belong to a version of me which has long since been archived 😸 we had fun, even if it didn't last! We loved each other, even if we grew apart, or came into resentment!
So maybe if they taught me to embrace the paradox of existing through time, and space-- this is okay over here, but bad over there, and this is okay back then, but bad now, and somehow I can experience all of those things, even if they contradict one another-- that's valuable, right? Doesn't seem like the experience has disappeared, despite the lack of evidence.
In my dreams, I often find myself trying to take photos of the strange things I witness. Sometimes I'm successful, but usually something strange happens. The camera-phone malfunctions, the situation changes as I try to capture it, people and animals morph into something else... or sometimes I just wake up. And I think-- what was I going to do with that dream-photograph, anyway? It's gone, but I still remember the dream... and even as the dreams blend together, I'm still changed by those received impressions...
Yeah, I think us artists get really attached to things. We love materials, and artifacts, and history, and proof of all our exploits and efforts. But if there's no space to make more art, then we stagnate. Sooner or later we have to come to appreciate and embrace destruction and release, to keep the pendulum swinging...