I've always loved analogies.
I couldn't have said it better myself:
From- Peter Lawrence - The Happy Minimalist
http://earlyretirementextreme.com/fulfillment.html
Sometimes, some people can keep eating and yet continue to feel hungry. Gorging oneself with empty calories is no substitute for the essential nutrients that the body needs. Eating a variety of different colors of fruits and vegetables together with nuts, grains and legumes can provide the necessary nutrients that the body needs such that one can actually cut down on the calories without experiencing hunger. Calorie restriction is a proven way to slow the aging process and maintain peak vitality. The goal should then be to consume nutrition dense food rather than calorie rich foods. Unfortunately, many people choose the latter. And when they continue to feel hungry, they continue to stuff themselves with the same junk, processed or packaged foods. But no amount of foods rich in energy but poor in nutrition will fulfill the body’s craving. Likewise, no amount of material stuff can fulfill our highest needs.
In 1943, Abraham Maslow put forth his theory of human motivation commonly known as Maslow’s hierarchy of needs. At the bottom of the pyramid are the physiological needs. At the apex is the need for self-actualization. In the developed world, despite having easily fulfilled our lower level needs, many don’t seem fulfilled. The reason is they are trying to satisfy their highest need with lower level stuff. The pursuit to keep up and beat the Joneses is deemed as the ultimate success. As such, they continue to play in the lower levels of the pyramid instead of recognizing that they have enough and transcending. As long as you are stuck in the mode that you have to have a bigger house, a faster car etc; you are never going to be fully satisfied . Just as your body’s needs cannot be satisfied with empty calories, your soul’s cravings cannot be satisfied by material stuff either. As Abraham Maslow said, “A musician must make music, an artist must paint, a poet must write if he is to be ultimately at peace with himself.”
Monday 27 January 2014
Tuesday 7 January 2014
How to live in the Moment - from Raptitude
How to live in the moment
http://www.raptitude.com/2014/01/how-to-live-in-the-moment/
Excerpts. See full article here.
In my experience, if I actually look rather than just think about it, where I’m supposed to have a face I actually have nothing. It’s a clear space. Out in front of that nothing a little ways, there is a nose-blur and sometimes a hair-blur, and beyond that there is all sorts of interesting content which changes all the time — people, skies, computer screens, piles of snow, concerts, city lights, birds, throw rugs, music, food. But in every moment, no matter what the content, at the absolute nearest end is a great big nothing.
I am looking out of this nothing everywhere I go. On a plane. Across a diner booth from someone. From my pillow. While I’m doing a push up. Wherever I am, in every single moment of my life, no matter what I do, I am looking out of an empty space.
If you don’t follow, point at where your face is supposed to be, where you’re looking from. In your actual experience — not what you think you should be experiencing — is your finger not aimed at an empty space?
You’re always looking out from this same empty space. Things happen in that space — walls, people, computer screens, sunsets, movies, books, your arms and legs — but it’s always just a space. It’s always open on your end.
This is a super helpful thing to notice, because it’s a way to return to present moment reality at any time. You look at something out there in the world, then you direct your attention back the other way along that same line, and see the space you are looking out of. Suddenly the world seems bare again, and you have the sensation of losing a huge weight, because have ceased investing everything out there in the world with its relationship to your story and your needs. You are empty for the world again.
...
Most importantly, the space is always here. It’s the only thing that’s always here. If you notice it, you’re here. Welcome back.
...
Ordinary things sometimes become strangely hilarious. I can’t describe the intrinsic hilarity of watching a spoonful of cereal come closer to your space until it goes blurry and disappears, then becomes replaced by an explosion of invisible taste, sound and tactile sensations. Then an empty spoon comes back into focus and your hand puts it back in the bowl. You swallow, which is another invisible but obvious set of sensations, and you want to do it again.
One-on-one communication becomes profound. You feel instant affection for the faces you do see. There seems to be nothing in the way of them. Rather than face-to-face, you experience these conversations as face to no-face, or face to space. Your space is a perfect place to put this visiting face. It’s much easier to understand what they’re getting at, because you’re no longer trying to keep track of how what they’re saying relates to your little third-person diorama of your life. Almost everyone is adorable when you’re face to space with them.
Perhaps the most profound insight from practicing this is that none of that diorama needs to be sorted out at all anyway. It’s an impossible mess of thought with no solution — most of it is just thoughts about future problems that might actually happen — and when you return to the present moment the whole thing seems like a foolish side project you were working on.
Any of those thoughts that represent real things will be dealt with in their own time, once they are actually real, right here in front of you in the space, because life simply doesn’t happen anywhere else. Life is much smaller and more intimate and more interesting than we ever thought.
http://www.raptitude.com/2014/01/how-to-live-in-the-moment/
Excerpts. See full article here.
In my experience, if I actually look rather than just think about it, where I’m supposed to have a face I actually have nothing. It’s a clear space. Out in front of that nothing a little ways, there is a nose-blur and sometimes a hair-blur, and beyond that there is all sorts of interesting content which changes all the time — people, skies, computer screens, piles of snow, concerts, city lights, birds, throw rugs, music, food. But in every moment, no matter what the content, at the absolute nearest end is a great big nothing.
I am looking out of this nothing everywhere I go. On a plane. Across a diner booth from someone. From my pillow. While I’m doing a push up. Wherever I am, in every single moment of my life, no matter what I do, I am looking out of an empty space.
If you don’t follow, point at where your face is supposed to be, where you’re looking from. In your actual experience — not what you think you should be experiencing — is your finger not aimed at an empty space?
You’re always looking out from this same empty space. Things happen in that space — walls, people, computer screens, sunsets, movies, books, your arms and legs — but it’s always just a space. It’s always open on your end.
This is a super helpful thing to notice, because it’s a way to return to present moment reality at any time. You look at something out there in the world, then you direct your attention back the other way along that same line, and see the space you are looking out of. Suddenly the world seems bare again, and you have the sensation of losing a huge weight, because have ceased investing everything out there in the world with its relationship to your story and your needs. You are empty for the world again.
...
Most importantly, the space is always here. It’s the only thing that’s always here. If you notice it, you’re here. Welcome back.
...
Ordinary things sometimes become strangely hilarious. I can’t describe the intrinsic hilarity of watching a spoonful of cereal come closer to your space until it goes blurry and disappears, then becomes replaced by an explosion of invisible taste, sound and tactile sensations. Then an empty spoon comes back into focus and your hand puts it back in the bowl. You swallow, which is another invisible but obvious set of sensations, and you want to do it again.
One-on-one communication becomes profound. You feel instant affection for the faces you do see. There seems to be nothing in the way of them. Rather than face-to-face, you experience these conversations as face to no-face, or face to space. Your space is a perfect place to put this visiting face. It’s much easier to understand what they’re getting at, because you’re no longer trying to keep track of how what they’re saying relates to your little third-person diorama of your life. Almost everyone is adorable when you’re face to space with them.
Perhaps the most profound insight from practicing this is that none of that diorama needs to be sorted out at all anyway. It’s an impossible mess of thought with no solution — most of it is just thoughts about future problems that might actually happen — and when you return to the present moment the whole thing seems like a foolish side project you were working on.
Any of those thoughts that represent real things will be dealt with in their own time, once they are actually real, right here in front of you in the space, because life simply doesn’t happen anywhere else. Life is much smaller and more intimate and more interesting than we ever thought.
Monday 6 January 2014
How to Fuel the Internal Engine of Learning - Brainpickings
From Don't go back to school - How to Fuel the Internal Engine of Learning - brainpickings.com
Independent learning suggests ideas such as “self-taught,” or “autodidact.” These imply that independence means working solo. But that’s just not how it happens. People don’t learn in isolation. When I talk about independent learners, I don’t mean people learning alone. I’m talking about learning that happens independent of schools.
[…]
Anyone who really wants to learn without school has to find other people to learn with and from. That’s the open secret of learning outside of school. It’s a social act. Learning is something we do together.
Independent learners are interdependent learners.
Independent learning suggests ideas such as “self-taught,” or “autodidact.” These imply that independence means working solo. But that’s just not how it happens. People don’t learn in isolation. When I talk about independent learners, I don’t mean people learning alone. I’m talking about learning that happens independent of schools.
[…]
Anyone who really wants to learn without school has to find other people to learn with and from. That’s the open secret of learning outside of school. It’s a social act. Learning is something we do together.
Independent learners are interdependent learners.
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