I love grape juice.
And red kidney beans.
And tofu.
And broccoli.
And red bell peppers.
And carrots.
And onions.
Kale is growing on me, but I just finished it. This week I'll get spinach. I miss eggplant too. It's been a while.
Most of all, I seriously love mushrooms. And soy sauce. Other sauces are good from time to time, but soy sauce is cheaper, lasts longer, and doesn't have strange artificial ingredients.
I love that I used to be a junk food junkie, so I got to enjoy all of those delicious goodies, and I love that now, not only do I make myself eat better food, but I tend to desire better food, and less food. This is my first true meal of the day. Green tea, granola bar, banana and mixed nuts were my stomach's only friends today, until now.
I don't mean to brag about my current healthier eating habits or nag you about yours (depending on who you are, you may still best me in the health department, but as with anything, the race is long and it's only with yourself). You see, I finished reading Joseph Campbell's first book today and spent about ninety minutes sampling the best parts while listening to great music. Later, as I was standing in line at the grocery store, a simile stared me in the face. I saw some Skittles, and thought about how much I used to love them, and how I knew I was supposed to be eating healthier food but that I would have time to change and I really didn't like being told what to do, or worse, shamed into feeling bad about my choices. I eventually did change my habits, after all, but according to my life's schedule, not someone else's. It's the same with these hero journeys. Just as with nutrition all one can do is pass information to others so that they can make informed healthier choices if that is their goal, all I can do with writing is share the experiences, and maybe someone eager to expand their experience will become interested in what the journeys of the body and the mind can do for one's joy.
According to this mysticism of sexual love, the ultimate experience of love is a realization that beneath the illusion of two-ness dwells identity: “each is both.” This realization can expand into a discovery that beneath the multitudinous individualities of the whole surrounding universe—human, animal, vegetable, even mineral—dwells identity; whereupon the love experience becomes cosmic, and the beloved who first opened the vision is magnified as the mirror of creation. The man or woman knowing this experience is possessed of what Schopenhauer called “the science of beauty everywhere.” He “goes up and down these worlds, eating what he desires, assuming what forms he desires,” and he sits singing the song of the universal unity, which begins: “Oh, wonderful! Oh, wonderful! Oh, wonderful!” (Campbell 240)
When I first moved into this room, I opened up the window and saw a taxi on the street, and the ad on top of the taxi was for a movie called Nut Job. "Thanks universe," I said sarcastically. As if I wasn't aware of the status quo's likely interpretation of my activities and ideas in recent years, especially the ones that transpired during what Campbell would call my hero journey away from this city.
Today, as I left the store, I saw the ad again, but this time I looked closer (looking closer is always better for you) and underneath the title it says, "No nuts, no glory."
Speaking of which, I am having a great time writing my story.
And red kidney beans.
And tofu.
And broccoli.
And red bell peppers.
And carrots.
And onions.
Kale is growing on me, but I just finished it. This week I'll get spinach. I miss eggplant too. It's been a while.
Most of all, I seriously love mushrooms. And soy sauce. Other sauces are good from time to time, but soy sauce is cheaper, lasts longer, and doesn't have strange artificial ingredients.
I love that I used to be a junk food junkie, so I got to enjoy all of those delicious goodies, and I love that now, not only do I make myself eat better food, but I tend to desire better food, and less food. This is my first true meal of the day. Green tea, granola bar, banana and mixed nuts were my stomach's only friends today, until now.
I don't mean to brag about my current healthier eating habits or nag you about yours (depending on who you are, you may still best me in the health department, but as with anything, the race is long and it's only with yourself). You see, I finished reading Joseph Campbell's first book today and spent about ninety minutes sampling the best parts while listening to great music. Later, as I was standing in line at the grocery store, a simile stared me in the face. I saw some Skittles, and thought about how much I used to love them, and how I knew I was supposed to be eating healthier food but that I would have time to change and I really didn't like being told what to do, or worse, shamed into feeling bad about my choices. I eventually did change my habits, after all, but according to my life's schedule, not someone else's. It's the same with these hero journeys. Just as with nutrition all one can do is pass information to others so that they can make informed healthier choices if that is their goal, all I can do with writing is share the experiences, and maybe someone eager to expand their experience will become interested in what the journeys of the body and the mind can do for one's joy.
According to this mysticism of sexual love, the ultimate experience of love is a realization that beneath the illusion of two-ness dwells identity: “each is both.” This realization can expand into a discovery that beneath the multitudinous individualities of the whole surrounding universe—human, animal, vegetable, even mineral—dwells identity; whereupon the love experience becomes cosmic, and the beloved who first opened the vision is magnified as the mirror of creation. The man or woman knowing this experience is possessed of what Schopenhauer called “the science of beauty everywhere.” He “goes up and down these worlds, eating what he desires, assuming what forms he desires,” and he sits singing the song of the universal unity, which begins: “Oh, wonderful! Oh, wonderful! Oh, wonderful!” (Campbell 240)
When I first moved into this room, I opened up the window and saw a taxi on the street, and the ad on top of the taxi was for a movie called Nut Job. "Thanks universe," I said sarcastically. As if I wasn't aware of the status quo's likely interpretation of my activities and ideas in recent years, especially the ones that transpired during what Campbell would call my hero journey away from this city.
Today, as I left the store, I saw the ad again, but this time I looked closer (looking closer is always better for you) and underneath the title it says, "No nuts, no glory."
Speaking of which, I am having a great time writing my story.
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