Sheryn, you're really inspirational to me. I'm glad I stopped on your video as I was scrolling down the comments under a vid I just watched from The Imagination Podcast last night. To me, enlightenment means that you always have peace of mind no matter what your circumstances are. For me, that's nirvana. 🎵All I want is to have my peace of miiiiiiiiind🎶 (Boston) I've never heard of scraping away the sh&* and really like that idea. I'm picturing scraping it off with a carved piece of wood like native Americans do after going in the sweat lodge.
You are seemingly expounding yogic philosophy and other systems of Indian philosophy without seemingly naming either of them! oYur experiences certainly and your suffering have given you a deep intelligence and a large heart. I would consider it a siddhi that whihc you have acquired. Also your feelign of togetherness is like shakti philosophy. We say "unaketa mei ekta dekhna aur ekta mei anekta yeh hi shakti hai". Seeing oneness in disparate beings or the disparate and seeing distinctions in what seemingly seems seamless or whole that is what is shakti! Beautiful philosophical discourse given that you were going through a difficult period of time at this point in your life and you intended this as a last will and testament of yours. Also your observation about gathering around fire is exactly how all rituals are performed in vedic hinduism , the fire is the symbol of joining and derives from the same roots whihc form the word yoga, and is called yajna. In it a consecrated fire is used for rituals and people basically sit around a fire chant shlokas to their anthropomorphic and later different gods giving offerings to the fire of excellent stuff like Ghee!
I have been battling two cancers for a little over a year now. I’m technically cancer free, but because it went to the lymph nodes I am still getting treatment and I’m scanned every 3 months for new cancer. My point is, I don’t feel like I have a life. I live in constant anxiety bc not only am I still getting treatment and chemo that makes me vomit, fatigue, depressed- I also have a constant fear it will come back. It’s further complicated bc I have breast and colon cancer. That’s right- two UNRELATED cancers at the same time. When I tell people they assume I mean it spread- no. That would be worse, but in a way it’s more complicated bc I have two separate sets of cancer. That basically means two times the treatment, two times the scans, and double the anxiety. I just had a colonoscopy that showed no cancer which is great, but I have a mammogram coming up and the type of breast cancer I had has a high propensity to come back. I’m sorry I’m writing this whole book, and because this is an older video I’m going to private message you in tt. I could just really use a friend that understands health struggles. My entire circle of family and a few “friends” are all completely healthy. They just cannot relate. They are compassionate but they don’t GET it. They don’t get that my life went from normal stresses- bills, work etc- to fearing my mortality daily. I hope I didn’t scare you off but I found your live today and really felt a connection. Oh, I ordered you that ocean tapestry so when you get it that me, Farah. I’m 46 yrs old but this last 14 months make me feel 80. I used to run 6 miles a day up until May 2023. I started walking again but I have bad neuropathy from the treatment so I haven’t gotten past a mile. I just feel scared, frustrated, and depressed. So nice to meet you xoxo Farah
I just read your story. I'm 45. I have some healthy stuff but absolutely nothing in comparison. My dads had Parkinsons for almost 30 yrs, along with dimentia, CHF, Aphib. We're all very close. I can relate to the feelings of loneliness & friends not relating at all. Money seems worthless when it comes to life & death. I'm so glad to see women connecting & supporting other women. This life feels so unfair & sometimes it simply is. Please know I am praying for you, Farah. I pray for a miraculous healing over your entire body. I pray against fear & anxiety. Year back I read a book one of the Judd's wrote. It spoke about fear & defined it as: False, Evidence, Appearing, Real. I tell my son. Worrying is like a rocking chair. It will keep you busy but you won't get anywhere. Blessing on you ladies & all who read this.
Through the first 6mins of this video, this is a brilliant, impregnable, unassailable viewpoint. I am listening on to it's end… I became a born-again Christian at age 14, and pursued this faith passionately for the next 35yrs. Thereafter, I have relinquished it, slowly, painfully, beginning in my late 40s. Now in my mid-60s, I've finally found peace. A brief, cogent summation of my understanding of life now is that the materialists are right, and this life here on Earth is all we get. For each of us there was an unfathomable void prior to conception, and we return to that void upon our last heartbeat. Is there a God? I do not know; I choose to believe there is one, but "He" is nothing like any of the images we concoct in our likeness. He, if existent, is as unfathomable to any human mind as is the void we leapt from upon birth and subside into upon death. And He certainly is not jealous of any other divinity, nor threatened one whit by any doubts I or any other sentient being may hold towards Him, Her, or It. The Christian narrative along with all the thousands or tens of thousands of religions that that we have formulated over millennia, all, all are mere mythologies, comforting stories we tell ourselves in answer to our intuitions of our ultimate, inescapable annihilation. We want so desperately to live and never die… So poignant is it, this life-force! But this flicker of light is all we get, miraculous and transient. Out, out, brief candle. 🔥
Very interesting. I watched the whole thing. I think quite similarly to you - what we have is this life and we don't know past that so focus on the present. Although I recently have been thinking about the fact that there is something rather than nothing. The fact anything at all exists is really weird when you think about it. If I was paralyzed I would do nothing but read as much as possible. There are so many amazing books that help me escape my pain and help me understand what is important in life. If you're interested I can share some books I've loved. I'll just link a great poem from Fernando Pessoa and if you enjoy it then maybe you'll want to hear some of my other favorites to read. I will also say that getting a Kindle (Fire is fine and cheap, Paperwhite is the highest quality but doesn't have internet access like a normal tablet.)
here is "The Tobacco Shop by Fernando Pessoa" I'm nothing. I'll always be nothing. I can't want to be something. But I have in me all the dreams of the world. Windows of my room, The room of one of the world's millions nobody knows (And if they knew me, what would they know?), You open onto the mystery of a street continually crossed by people, A street inaccessible to any and every thought, Real, impossibly real, certain, unknowingly certain, With the mystery of things beneath the stones and beings, With death making the walls damp and the hair of men white, With Destiny driving the wagon of everything down the road of nothing. Today I'm defeated, as if I'd learned the truth. Today I'm lucid, as if I were about to die And had no greater kinship with things Than to say farewell, this building and this side of the street becoming A row of train cars, with the whistle for departure Blowing in my head And my nerves jolting and bones creaking as we pull out. Today I'm bewildered, like a man who wondered and discovered and forgot. Today I'm torn between the loyalty I owe To the outward reality of the Tobacco Shop across the street And to the inward reality of my feeling that everything's a dream. I failed in everything. Since I had no ambition, perhaps I failed in nothing. I left the education I was given, Climbing down from the window at the back of the house. I went to the country with big plans. But all I found was grass and trees, And when there were people they were just like the others. I step back from the window and sit in a chair. What should I think about? How should I know what I'll be, I who don't know what I am? Be what I think? But I think of being so many things! And there are so many who think of being the same thing that we can't all be it! Genius? At this moment A hundred thousand brains are dreaming they're geniuses like me, And it may be that history won't remember even one, All of their imagined conquests amounting to so much dung. No, I don't believe in me. Insane asylums are full of lunatics with certainties! Am I, who have no certainties, more right or less right? No, not even me . . . In how many garrets and non-garrets of the world Are self-convinced geniuses at this moment dreaming? How many lofty and noble and lucid aspirations -Yes, truly lofty and noble and lucid And perhaps even attainable- Will never see the light of day or find a sympathetic ear? The world is for those born to conquer it, Not for those who dream they can conquer it, even if they're right. I've done more in dreams than Napoleon. I've held more humanities against my hypothetical breast than Christ. I've secretly invented philosophies such as Kant never wrote. But I am, and perhaps will always be, the man in the garret, Even though I don't live in one. I'll always be the one who wasn't born for that; I'll always be merely the one who had qualities; I'll always be the one who waited for a door to open in a wall without doors And sang the song of the Infinite in a chicken coop And heard the voice of God in a covered well. Believe in me? No, not in anything. Let Nature pour over my seething head Its sun, its rain, and the wind that finds my hair, And let the rest come if it will or must, or let it not come. Cardiac slaves of the stars, We conquered the whole world before getting out of bed, But we woke up and it's hazy, We got up and it's alien, We went outside and it's the entire earth Plus the solar system and the Milky Way and the Indefinite. (Eat your chocolates, little girl, Eat your chocolates! Believe me, there's no metaphysics on earth like chocolates, And all religions put together teach no more than the candy shop. Eat, dirty little girl, eat! If only I could eat chocolates with the same truth as you! But I think and, removing the silver paper that's tinfoil, I throw it on the ground, as I've thrown out life.) But at least, from my bitterness over what I'll never be, There remains the hasty writing of these verses, A broken gateway to the Impossible. But at least I confer on myself a contempt without tears, Noble at least in the sweeping gesture by which I fling The dirty laundry that's me-with no list-into the stream of things, And I stay at home, shirtless. (O my consoler, who doesn't exist and therefore consoles, Be you a Greek goddess, conceived as a living statue, Or a patrician woman of Rome, impossibly noble and dire, Or a princess of the troubadours, all charm and grace, Or an eighteenth-century marchioness, decollete and aloof, Or a famous courtesan from our parent's generation, Or something modern, I can't quite imagine what- Whatever all of this is, whatever you are, if you can inspire, then inspire me! My heart is a poured-out bucket. In the same way invokers of spirits invoke spirits, I invoke My own self and find nothing. I go to the window and see the street with absolute clarity. I see the shops, I see the sidewalks, I see the passing cars, I see the clothed living beings who pass each other. I see the dogs that also exist, And all of this weighs on me like a sentence of exile, And all of this is foreign, like everything else.) I've lived, studied, loved, and even believed, And today there's not a beggar I don't envy just because he isn't me. I look at the tatters and sores and falsehood of each one, And I think: perhaps you never lived or studied or loved or believed (For it's possible to do all of this without having done any of it); Perhaps you've merely existed, as when a lizard has its tail cut off And the tail keeps on twitching, without the lizard. I made of myself what I was no good at making, And what I could have made of myself I didn't. I put on the wrong costume And was immediately taken for someone I wasn't, and I said nothing and was lost. When I went to take off the mask, It was stuck to my face. When I got it off and saw myself in the mirror, I had already grown old. I was drunk and no longer knew how to wear the costume hat I hadn't taken off. I threw out the mask and slept in the closet Like a dog tolerated by the management Because it's harmless, And I'll write down this story to prove I'm sublime. Musical essence of my useless verses, If only I could look at you as something I had made Instead of always looking at the Tobacco Shop across the street, Trampling on my consciousness of existing, Like a rug a drunkard stumbles on Or a doormat stolen by gypsies and it's not worth a thing. But the Tobacco Shop Owner has come to the door and is standing there. I look at him with the discomfort of a half-twisted neck Compounded by the discomfort of a half-grasping soul. He will die and I will die. He'll leave his signboard, I'll leave my poems. His sign will also eventually die, and so will my poems. Eventually the street where the sign was will die, And so will the language in which my poems were written. Then the whirling planet where all of this happened will die. On other planets of other solar systems something like people Will continue to make things like poems and to live under things like signs, Always one thing facing the other, Always one thing as useless as the other, Always the impossible as stupid as reality, Always the inner mystery as true as the mystery sleeping on the surface. Always this thing or always that, or neither one thing nor the other. But a man has entered the Tobacco Shop (to buy tobacco?), And plausible reality suddenly hits me. I half rise from my chair-energetic, convinced, human- And will try to write these verses in which I say the opposite. I light up a cigarette as I think about writing them, And in that cigarette I savor a freedom from all thought. My eyes follow the smoke as if it were my own trail And I enjoy, for a sensitive and fitting moment, A liberation from all speculation And an awareness that metaphysics is a consequence of not feeling very well. Then I lean back in the chair And keep smoking. As long as Destiny permits, I'll keep smoking. (If I married my washwoman's daughter Perhaps I would be happy.) I get up from the chair. I go to the window. The man has come out of the Tobacco Shop (putting change into his pocket?). Ah, I know him: it's unmetaphysical Esteves. (The Tobacco Shop Owner has come to the door.) As if by divine instinct, Esteves turns around and sees me. He waves hello, I shout back "Hello, Esteves!" and the universe Falls back into place without ideals or hopes, and the Owner of the Tobacco Shop smiles. if you liked that I'd recommend the book "The Passion According to G.H" by Clarice Lispector. It's one of the strangest but also most intriguing books I've ever read and has my favorite quote ever in it. "What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human". I can share more books and poems if you'd like.
Some deep thoughts expressed here. I feel a lightedness of being through your words. I sense your soul's nature and appreciate the wisdom you have always had that you were able to articulate in this vlog. You knew you were not separate, you knew and felt in tune with your divine oneness. You knew that life was meant to be a shared journey, a tribal journey...because we are not as separate as we think we are. I love some of the conclusions you arrived at. Keep being you.
I would love to know what you love about yourself if you were a different person 😊 and how you would have chosen to live your carbon based life ❤ did you ever make that video? 🕊️
She thankfully chose life. If you see her more recent videos, she talks more in depth about why she considered suicide. I never agree with that choice. Any doctor IMO willing to do this, violates their oath. Anyway, I absolutely agree. My very close friend had a brain aneurism, died & came back. He met God, he explained a feeling of pure joy & love. He wanted to stay but knew his wife & family still needed him. I've heard others share similar stories. God is real.
Sheryn, you're really inspirational to me. I'm glad I stopped on your video as I was scrolling down the comments under a vid I just watched from The Imagination Podcast last night.
To me, enlightenment means that you always have peace of mind no matter what your circumstances are. For me, that's nirvana.
🎵All I want is to have my peace of miiiiiiiiind🎶 (Boston)
I've never heard of scraping away the sh&* and really like that idea. I'm picturing scraping it off with a carved piece of wood like native Americans do after going in the sweat lodge.
Beautiful lady!
You are seemingly expounding yogic philosophy and other systems of Indian philosophy without seemingly naming either of them! oYur experiences certainly and your suffering have given you a deep intelligence and a large heart. I would consider it a siddhi that whihc you have acquired. Also your feelign of togetherness is like shakti philosophy. We say "unaketa mei ekta dekhna aur ekta mei anekta yeh hi shakti hai". Seeing oneness in disparate beings or the disparate and seeing distinctions in what seemingly seems seamless or whole that is what is shakti! Beautiful philosophical discourse given that you were going through a difficult period of time at this point in your life and you intended this as a last will and testament of yours.
Also your observation about gathering around fire is exactly how all rituals are performed in vedic hinduism , the fire is the symbol of joining and derives from the same roots whihc form the word yoga, and is called yajna. In it a consecrated fire is used for rituals and people basically sit around a fire chant shlokas to their anthropomorphic and later different gods giving offerings to the fire of excellent stuff like Ghee!
This is really on point.
I have been battling two cancers for a little over a year now. I’m technically cancer free, but because it went to the lymph nodes I am still getting treatment and I’m scanned every 3 months for new cancer. My point is, I don’t feel like I have a life. I live in constant anxiety bc not only am I still getting treatment and chemo that makes me vomit, fatigue, depressed- I also have a constant fear it will come back. It’s further complicated bc I have breast and colon cancer. That’s right- two UNRELATED cancers at the same time. When I tell people they assume I mean it spread- no. That would be worse, but in a way it’s more complicated bc I have two separate sets of cancer. That basically means two times the treatment, two times the scans, and double the anxiety. I just had a colonoscopy that showed no cancer which is great, but I have a mammogram coming up and the type of breast cancer I had has a high propensity to come back. I’m sorry I’m writing this whole book, and because this is an older video I’m going to private message you in tt. I could just really use a friend that understands health struggles. My entire circle of family and a few “friends” are all completely healthy. They just cannot relate. They are compassionate but they don’t GET it. They don’t get that my life went from normal stresses- bills, work etc- to fearing my mortality daily. I hope I didn’t scare you off but I found your live today and really felt a connection. Oh, I ordered you that ocean tapestry so when you get it that me, Farah. I’m 46 yrs old but this last 14 months make me feel 80. I used to run 6 miles a day up until May 2023. I started walking again but I have bad neuropathy from the treatment so I haven’t gotten past a mile. I just feel scared, frustrated, and depressed. So nice to meet you xoxo Farah
Love to you angel, glad we are friends now!
I just read your story. I'm 45. I have some healthy stuff but absolutely nothing in comparison. My dads had Parkinsons for almost 30 yrs, along with dimentia, CHF, Aphib. We're all very close. I can relate to the feelings of loneliness & friends not relating at all. Money seems worthless when it comes to life & death.
I'm so glad to see women connecting & supporting other women.
This life feels so unfair & sometimes it simply is.
Please know I am praying for you, Farah. I pray for a miraculous healing over your entire body. I pray against fear & anxiety.
Year back I read a book one of the Judd's wrote. It spoke about fear & defined it as:
False, Evidence, Appearing, Real.
I tell my son. Worrying is like a rocking chair. It will keep you busy but you won't get anywhere.
Blessing on you ladies & all who read this.
Through the first 6mins of this video, this is a brilliant, impregnable, unassailable viewpoint. I am listening on to it's end…
I became a born-again Christian at age 14, and pursued this faith passionately for the next 35yrs. Thereafter, I have relinquished it, slowly, painfully, beginning in my late 40s. Now in my mid-60s, I've finally found peace. A brief, cogent summation of my understanding of life now is that the materialists are right, and this life here on Earth is all we get. For each of us there was an unfathomable void prior to conception, and we return to that void upon our last heartbeat. Is there a God? I do not know; I choose to believe there is one, but "He" is nothing like any of the images we concoct in our likeness. He, if existent, is as unfathomable to any human mind as is the void we leapt from upon birth and subside into upon death. And He certainly is not jealous of any other divinity, nor threatened one whit by any doubts I or any other sentient being may hold towards Him, Her, or It.
The Christian narrative along with all the thousands or tens of thousands of religions that that we have formulated over millennia, all, all are mere mythologies, comforting stories we tell ourselves in answer to our intuitions of our ultimate, inescapable annihilation.
We want so desperately to live and never die… So poignant is it, this life-force! But this flicker of light is all we get, miraculous and transient. Out, out, brief candle. 🔥
Very interesting. I watched the whole thing. I think quite similarly to you - what we have is this life and we don't know past that so focus on the present. Although I recently have been thinking about the fact that there is something rather than nothing. The fact anything at all exists is really weird when you think about it.
If I was paralyzed I would do nothing but read as much as possible. There are so many amazing books that help me escape my pain and help me understand what is important in life.
If you're interested I can share some books I've loved. I'll just link a great poem from Fernando Pessoa and if you enjoy it then maybe you'll want to hear some of my other favorites to read. I will also say that getting a Kindle (Fire is fine and cheap, Paperwhite is the highest quality but doesn't have internet access like a normal tablet.)
here is "The Tobacco Shop by Fernando Pessoa"
I'm nothing.
I'll always be nothing.
I can't want to be something.
But I have in me all the dreams of the world.
Windows of my room,
The room of one of the world's millions nobody knows
(And if they knew me, what would they know?),
You open onto the mystery of a street continually crossed by people,
A street inaccessible to any and every thought,
Real, impossibly real, certain, unknowingly certain,
With the mystery of things beneath the stones and beings,
With death making the walls damp and the hair of men white,
With Destiny driving the wagon of everything down the road of nothing.
Today I'm defeated, as if I'd learned the truth.
Today I'm lucid, as if I were about to die
And had no greater kinship with things
Than to say farewell, this building and this side of the street becoming
A row of train cars, with the whistle for departure
Blowing in my head
And my nerves jolting and bones creaking as we pull out.
Today I'm bewildered, like a man who wondered and discovered and forgot.
Today I'm torn between the loyalty I owe
To the outward reality of the Tobacco Shop across the street
And to the inward reality of my feeling that everything's a dream.
I failed in everything.
Since I had no ambition, perhaps I failed in nothing.
I left the education I was given,
Climbing down from the window at the back of the house.
I went to the country with big plans.
But all I found was grass and trees,
And when there were people they were just like the others.
I step back from the window and sit in a chair. What should I think about?
How should I know what I'll be, I who don't know what I am?
Be what I think? But I think of being so many things!
And there are so many who think of being the same thing that we can't all be it!
Genius? At this moment
A hundred thousand brains are dreaming they're geniuses like me,
And it may be that history won't remember even one,
All of their imagined conquests amounting to so much dung.
No, I don't believe in me.
Insane asylums are full of lunatics with certainties!
Am I, who have no certainties, more right or less right?
No, not even me . . .
In how many garrets and non-garrets of the world
Are self-convinced geniuses at this moment dreaming?
How many lofty and noble and lucid aspirations
-Yes, truly lofty and noble and lucid
And perhaps even attainable-
Will never see the light of day or find a sympathetic ear?
The world is for those born to conquer it,
Not for those who dream they can conquer it, even if they're right.
I've done more in dreams than Napoleon.
I've held more humanities against my hypothetical breast than Christ.
I've secretly invented philosophies such as Kant never wrote.
But I am, and perhaps will always be, the man in the garret,
Even though I don't live in one.
I'll always be the one who wasn't born for that;
I'll always be merely the one who had qualities;
I'll always be the one who waited for a door to open in a wall without doors
And sang the song of the Infinite in a chicken coop
And heard the voice of God in a covered well.
Believe in me? No, not in anything.
Let Nature pour over my seething head
Its sun, its rain, and the wind that finds my hair,
And let the rest come if it will or must, or let it not come.
Cardiac slaves of the stars,
We conquered the whole world before getting out of bed,
But we woke up and it's hazy,
We got up and it's alien,
We went outside and it's the entire earth
Plus the solar system and the Milky Way and the Indefinite.
(Eat your chocolates, little girl,
Eat your chocolates!
Believe me, there's no metaphysics on earth like chocolates,
And all religions put together teach no more than the candy shop.
Eat, dirty little girl, eat!
If only I could eat chocolates with the same truth as you!
But I think and, removing the silver paper that's tinfoil,
I throw it on the ground, as I've thrown out life.)
But at least, from my bitterness over what I'll never be,
There remains the hasty writing of these verses,
A broken gateway to the Impossible.
But at least I confer on myself a contempt without tears,
Noble at least in the sweeping gesture by which I fling
The dirty laundry that's me-with no list-into the stream of things,
And I stay at home, shirtless.
(O my consoler, who doesn't exist and therefore consoles,
Be you a Greek goddess, conceived as a living statue,
Or a patrician woman of Rome, impossibly noble and dire,
Or a princess of the troubadours, all charm and grace,
Or an eighteenth-century marchioness, decollete and aloof,
Or a famous courtesan from our parent's generation,
Or something modern, I can't quite imagine what-
Whatever all of this is, whatever you are, if you can inspire, then inspire me!
My heart is a poured-out bucket.
In the same way invokers of spirits invoke spirits, I invoke
My own self and find nothing.
I go to the window and see the street with absolute clarity.
I see the shops, I see the sidewalks, I see the passing cars,
I see the clothed living beings who pass each other.
I see the dogs that also exist,
And all of this weighs on me like a sentence of exile,
And all of this is foreign, like everything else.)
I've lived, studied, loved, and even believed,
And today there's not a beggar I don't envy just because he isn't me.
I look at the tatters and sores and falsehood of each one,
And I think: perhaps you never lived or studied or loved or believed
(For it's possible to do all of this without having done any of it);
Perhaps you've merely existed, as when a lizard has its tail cut off
And the tail keeps on twitching, without the lizard.
I made of myself what I was no good at making,
And what I could have made of myself I didn't.
I put on the wrong costume
And was immediately taken for someone I wasn't, and I said nothing and was lost.
When I went to take off the mask,
It was stuck to my face.
When I got it off and saw myself in the mirror,
I had already grown old.
I was drunk and no longer knew how to wear the costume hat I hadn't taken off.
I threw out the mask and slept in the closet
Like a dog tolerated by the management
Because it's harmless,
And I'll write down this story to prove I'm sublime.
Musical essence of my useless verses,
If only I could look at you as something I had made
Instead of always looking at the Tobacco Shop across the street,
Trampling on my consciousness of existing,
Like a rug a drunkard stumbles on
Or a doormat stolen by gypsies and it's not worth a thing.
But the Tobacco Shop Owner has come to the door and is standing there.
I look at him with the discomfort of a half-twisted neck
Compounded by the discomfort of a half-grasping soul.
He will die and I will die.
He'll leave his signboard, I'll leave my poems.
His sign will also eventually die, and so will my poems.
Eventually the street where the sign was will die,
And so will the language in which my poems were written.
Then the whirling planet where all of this happened will die.
On other planets of other solar systems something like people
Will continue to make things like poems and to live under things like signs,
Always one thing facing the other,
Always one thing as useless as the other,
Always the impossible as stupid as reality,
Always the inner mystery as true as the mystery sleeping on the surface.
Always this thing or always that, or neither one thing nor the other.
But a man has entered the Tobacco Shop (to buy tobacco?),
And plausible reality suddenly hits me.
I half rise from my chair-energetic, convinced, human-
And will try to write these verses in which I say the opposite.
I light up a cigarette as I think about writing them,
And in that cigarette I savor a freedom from all thought.
My eyes follow the smoke as if it were my own trail
And I enjoy, for a sensitive and fitting moment,
A liberation from all speculation
And an awareness that metaphysics is a consequence of not feeling very well.
Then I lean back in the chair
And keep smoking.
As long as Destiny permits, I'll keep smoking.
(If I married my washwoman's daughter
Perhaps I would be happy.)
I get up from the chair. I go to the window.
The man has come out of the Tobacco Shop (putting change into his pocket?).
Ah, I know him: it's unmetaphysical Esteves.
(The Tobacco Shop Owner has come to the door.)
As if by divine instinct, Esteves turns around and sees me.
He waves hello, I shout back "Hello, Esteves!" and the universe
Falls back into place without ideals or hopes, and the Owner of the Tobacco Shop
smiles.
if you liked that I'd recommend the book "The Passion According to G.H" by Clarice Lispector. It's one of the strangest but also most intriguing books I've ever read and has my favorite quote ever in it.
"What I want is to live of that initial and primordial something that made some things reach the point of aspiring to be human".
I can share more books and poems if you'd like.
I would like to hear what books give you Inspiration ❤
Some deep thoughts expressed here. I feel a lightedness of being through your words. I sense your soul's nature and appreciate the wisdom you have always had that you were able to articulate in this vlog. You knew you were not separate, you knew and felt in tune with your divine oneness. You knew that life was meant to be a shared journey, a tribal journey...because we are not as separate as we think we are. I love some of the conclusions you arrived at. Keep being you.
I enjoy your company ❤ thank you 😽
Hello sharing I’m From TikTok live stream. I’m also on UA-cam.
You’re a beautiful person and soul. Keep your head up! I’m subbing because I’m listening.
I enjoy your insight 🙏
I would love to know what you love about yourself if you were a different person 😊 and how you would have chosen to live your carbon based life ❤ did you ever make that video? 🕊️
Do you believe in Jesus? I feel like you may have said that on a video somewhere
I can assure you afterlife exist. This is not it… and only if you are not selfish and make your life much shorter by taking it.
She thankfully chose life. If you see her more recent videos, she talks more in depth about why she considered suicide. I never agree with that choice. Any doctor IMO willing to do this, violates their oath.
Anyway, I absolutely agree. My very close friend had a brain aneurism, died & came back. He met God, he explained a feeling of pure joy & love. He wanted to stay but knew his wife & family still needed him. I've heard others share similar stories.
God is real.
Are you and Robert really getting married??? or Were you joking?
she did this vid I think she said 5 mos post accident (that happened in 2016)...yet maybe uploaded it only about 1 yr ago onto her channel?
Good to see you again. I always appreciate your videos and the insights/experiences you share.