A great article about JOY that I couldn't help but share with you today.

in #politics2 months ago

«-Joy-»

Unlike and in contrast with the general feeling of my article from yesterday. And perhaps, also unlike and in contrast with the "fancy sensitivity" of most of the articles I usually write about these futuristic issues. Today I come here to redeem myself a bit from all that intuitive delicacy, exciting inclination, tangible apprehension, inkling perception, scintillating hunches, twisted wit and extravagant impressions.

Because today I'm going to change the hackneyed speech a little. Hey, but just a little. Only a little bit and nothing more, eh? Because as many of you may know, I am and I've always been an old lucid veteran and above all, a die hard defensive pessimist who has already seen too much in this life and under no circumstances would I try to stop making you think always in the worst and then leave you destitute, helpless, off guard and unprepared for the customary tricks of fate. Okay?

Alright! I guess we're on the same page now. ¿Correct? Ok, the thing is that a few hours ago I stumbled upon an awesome article that seemed to scream at me inviting me to share it with you here. I looked around here, there and everywhere and it seemed that it was indeed inviting me to share it wherever I wanted. And I of course, chose to share it with all of you, with all those who really deserve it. Like my good friend @valued-customer and to whom affectionately this post is especially dedicated.

And for this and from here on out. The first and only thing I am going to do is simply cut and paste here a series of well selected paragraphs from the original article with the intention of tempting and motivating you hard enough so that, as always, you «click» and you end up consuming from head to toe the complete article from the source from which it originated. Because the original article is quite long and very well written. Until the point I was almost tempted to publish it here in its entirety. But don't worry, just «click» where you need to «click» and I assure you that you will end up in love and full of joy like me. That the links and 'sources' for this article are right where they need to be. Alright, here we go then, Xtreme Adventurers!!

«-Hopes-»


Today we’re going to talk about someone especial. Her energy, which is a bit of a cop-out of a word, but we’ll come back to that. Joy. Why is it so devastatingly effective against that other guy? And why has it caught fire across America?

Joy is her proposition to Americans. And to understand why it matters so intensely we have to transcend American thinking for a moment, which tends to be focused on data, facts, figures, but not the soft stuff, the human stuff, emotions, moods, sentiments, “energy.”

So what’s so radical about “joy”? Everything, in fact!

Stressed, Depressed, and Distressed in America.

What strikes Americans after they’ve lived overseas for a while? Most will tell you that there’s something missing in America. Life can often feel joyless.

It’s not that Americans aren’t “happy,” and shortly we’re going to discuss the difference between happiness and joy. But it is that American life can be incredibly bleak, demoralizing, and scary. These days, “layoff influencers” have become a thing, and that’s pretty dystopian. Even if it’s good for people to share their trauma, the fact is that American life is deeply traumatic just as a condition of existing. From the school shootings to the medical debt to the lunch debt,

Joy is in short supply in America. It has been for quite some time now. America became what wounded nations tend to become—angry, embittered, fractious. We use the word “divided,” but the mood of society isn’t that, it’s something darker. That’s not an “opinion,” by the way, these, too, are facts, about a society’s sentiments. “Deaths of despair,” as the eminent economists Anne Case and Angus Deaton call them, swept the working class. Levels of stress soared off the charts, and became distress. Over half of young people say they feel overwhelmed and numb. Happiness, it often seems, is a luxury reserved only for the rich.

In that context, a joyless society, where happiness itself is kept artificially scarce, perhaps you can begin to see why her proposition of joy is so devastatingly powerful.

So now that I’ve given you some context, let’s really dig in, because this goes way, way deeper than you might yet imagine.

And well, the truth is that I would have loved to continue with this bricklayer's work and continue cutting and pasting walls of words here in this post on my blog. But I believe the idea of ​​where this post is going has already been made pretty clear.

Now I only hope and aspire that I have presented you with a sufficiently attractive, enticing and voluptuous prelude as that you now start looking for where you need to «click» on this post and have a feast of joy & hopes like you have not enjoyed for a long time. I dearly believe you really deserve it. Actually, I believe everyone in the world really deserves it.

At least, all those who truly enjoy reading great content no matter where it comes from.

«-Awareness-»

Especially my esteemed and appreciated friends currently living in the "US of A"

Leave a comment. Share your experiences and feedback. ¡Be part of the conversation!

«««-$-»»»

"Follows, Comments, Rehives & Upvotes will be highly appreciated"

Cranky Gandalf

Cheers!

Sort:  

Well, I had a look at the article - flattered you sought to speak specifically to me - and I have to note I am reminded of Klaus Schwab's announcement - or prophecy - that we will own nothing and we will be happy. Shades of Aldous Huxley swirled and loomed at the edges of my awareness, but then the Soma kicked in and my consciousness settled and partook of the deep contentment we higher beings enjoy when being poked with sticks through the bars of our cages.

When I speak of my unbounded optimism, I am not describing my personal fate and experience. I have confidence in the human spirit, the quest innumerable people will undertake to escape the bars of our cages and overcome impositions of slavery. I do not claim to be competent to myself defeat our enemies, the miasma of versetzung, disenfranchisement, debanking, and medical malpractice that eventually oozes through the cracks of my defenses. I am assured I will die. I will die defeated, because I will be trying to live when I do.

But, I am not going to hang my head when I am flung onto the executioner's block and the crowd roars with excitement at the promise of my blood. I will not here detail the present circumstances I am in, which, despite my constant affirmations of the blessings of civilization, of ordinary goodness, of the banality of good and the salt of the Earth, that I depend on through investing in goodwill, have failed me. Not all investments in any mechanism, whether financial, scientific inquiry, love, or vengeance, bear fruit. Sometimes we lose our shirts, our minds, or our hearts to whores. It is the human condition, and, as I have ever affirmed, I will die one day, and that day could be today.

On this day I could be finally defeated and my journey to becoming worm poop end. I will not despair of it. This joy Commiela touts, this nirvanic composure, is not caused by benevolent overlords, but is despite those malevolent. It is not derived of great success, but despite catastrophic failure. I tell you truly that from a <$17 bill my entire life is in disarray, and not because it isn't payable, but because it is paid. My dedication to doing good for my neighbors, the salt of the Earth, has salted my Earth, and laid waste to my fortunes. Vast engines of hatred are roused, scenting my blood, my financial and economic weakness, in the water, and stir my way, coming to consume me utterly. I reach out in desperation to friends and acquaintances, to lawyers and lawmakers, to no avail. All trails lead to obdurate walls, to prepared defenses I am not going to breach. I am defeated.

I will laugh at the millions that were spent to destroy me, who spent but pennies to live, when they take me down. When the blades rake and rip at my nerves, wielded by experts at torment, I will be glad it is I under the knives, and not my sons, or my neighbors, but me - because I have become obdurate under torture by long practice of endurance in a lifetime past it's expected expiry featuring incessant defeat.

My failure is not the failure of humanity. My fate is not the end of days for anyone but me. My humiliation is what I have practiced in my own mind, seeking criticism to set my soul's feet upon solid confidence, knowing what I cannot do and knowing then what I can. I cannot prevail against my foe. I will succumb, am succumbing as I write here. Certain defeat and death stalks me from behind, hot breath predatory on my neck, but my fate is not the fate of humanity. While my fields have been sown with salt, the salt of the Earth is it's savor, and I know - with prophetic certainty - that the heavens are the infinite fields where our posterity will sow and reap abundance incalculable.

No Pollyanna takes the jibes here, but mere flesh and corruption, known to be fated to decay in the circle of life that is indomitable. I am not dismayed at being infinitesimal, indefensible, incompetent to take the victor's crown from the heads of my enemies bowed before me, but lay that wreath on the brows where it belongs: those of my betters, who succeed me.

This day may be my last, and hereafter you may no longer read my words, but they will echo in your heart and bestir your mind yet when I am gone. You, my friend, are my better, and will survive me to struggle and scramble across the bemined battlefields to come. It is your victory, and the victory of humanity, alone the wreath I wear upon my brow. It is your success in which I exult as I perish, today, tomorrow, someday, and not yours alone, but of the good people of the Earth.

There is my joy.

Thanks!

You just wrote a masterpiece.

Holy Cow.

I congratulate you and I have a lot of joy for that.

It is when we are on the ropes, backed up to a wall, that we find out what is within us. The ordinary, the cruft of our opinions and preferences is pierced through, clarified like glass, and our core values and principles are laid bare. It isn't great craft, but great exigency, that free these words from my spirt.

You are a poet who sees in every situation the carbon particles floating like tiny fragments of what never was and that perhaps depending on a change in that paradigm called "thought", can "be."

What would this world be without poets, thinkers and those of us who swim against the current?

You have to take risks, sometimes you find unicorns, pink ones, cranquicos and others who are valued customers.