|digital painting by Lohbado|
Spill your guts. Look at your guts. Two ways to face the pain. In the first case, or perhaps first reaction when something hurts is to yell: “Ow! ow wow wow wow oW!”
The rest is subjective. One might have an existential meltdown and shake one’s fist at the sky or spit into the wind, as if that would make a difference. It’s related to the theory that the squeaky wheel gets the grease. Perhaps if one cries out loud enough, Oogah or Oorsis might descend in a basket and fix everything.
Not likely. After the initial shock wears off, one settles into a long term constant pain. One learns to endure. No choice. Sink or swim. You either keep it together or fall apart. To fall apart involves stigma. One becomes treated as second class, or subhuman, damaged goods. Once you fall apart, you’re no longer viewed as a regular person. You’re viewed as a fuckup.
One could be stoic. One could investigate the pain, trace it to the root. Analyze the situation. Lohbado often indulged in lamentation. However, his favourite approach was to analyze, to view each situation as further research and exploration into the mystery of being.
After denigrating himself, after intense episodes of self-hatred, something snapped in Lobhado’s head. The Ohs in his name which at first appeared solid rock were suddenly hollow donuts. The wall of weeping and wailing suddenly became a transparent shimmering and undulating fine tissue. Light pierced the veil and entered through Lohbado’s eyes and into his heart. Cold dread of despair melted away. He slowly felt warm and human again. He gazed about with sympathy and affection towards fellow beings.
He realized there’s no problem with existence. Being is a vast and profound mystery. Other than describing one’s life, state of mind or coming up with theories, there’s not much could be said to encompass the infinite, or what lies beyond speech, beyond thought. According to the theory of evolution, the cosmos existed long before homo sapiens emerged from the swamp, went through ape and hominoid phases, got past neanderthal to reach present proportions.
The point of realizing the mystery of being is to understand the limits of one’s thought or ideas. To spit on the ground, stomp the feet and throw a fit might raise the blood pressure and give one a headache. That’s about it.
Respect for being could expand one’s mental horizon, so that even on a bad day, the bad day is nothing in comparison to the vast and profound nature of being. One’s nature is good, sacred, decent, however you want to call it. One’s pure nature could be obscured with layers of aggression, ignorance and compulsive hunger. Even if one feels like a loser, one could reflect on how one’s body/mind continuum is an attribute or mode of infinite nature. In other words, each individual is worthy of respect and veneration as being an expression of something vast, profound and beyond whatever one might try to say about it.