Self-denial and contentment
Mar. 26th, 2005 02:33 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dreaminghopeSometimes I envy those who live dramatically simple, disciplined lives, like monks and nuns. There seems to be such peace, tranquility and contentment in those lifestyles. As one who does not bore easily, I see the endless path of predictable days, of struggle only with one's self-discipline and faith, as a bit of an ideal life.
I have met people who live such lives within society, who haven't needed to escape to a isolated sanctuary to achieve inner peace. They live with little material goods, have simple needs and few desires, and are peaceful and content. They experience the depth of life.
The people I respect are those who have sacrificed material gain, conventional success and, sometimes, bodily comfort and pleasure in favour of a life that feels richer to them. They have chosen discipline as a lifestyle, choosing not to eat junk food, not to drink or smoke, not to have sex, or whatever, in order to achieve something spiritual. The best yet is seeing these people use the extra time, money and energy they have to achieve something beautiful and powerful in the world, making other people's lives better.
To me, this sort of life looks like a soft, baby blue blanket: comforting, warm, peaceful, strong, but constant, unvaried. In contract, some people live lives like eccentric quilts, with hundreds of fabrics, from rough linen to silk to corduroy, all patched together in crazy ways. They live highs and lows, moments of ecstasy and depression, always with waves of emotions. Their lives are always changing, they live extremes, they are always seeking variety and bigger and better experiences. It feels chaotic, unstable, like the fabric could unravel at any moment.
This also feels like it has value. These people experience the breadth of life.
I guess I fear that my life is always somewhere in between: neither deep nor broad, neither disciplined nor varied, neither content nor ecstatic. I hope there's a middle way with value as well.
I have met people who live such lives within society, who haven't needed to escape to a isolated sanctuary to achieve inner peace. They live with little material goods, have simple needs and few desires, and are peaceful and content. They experience the depth of life.
The people I respect are those who have sacrificed material gain, conventional success and, sometimes, bodily comfort and pleasure in favour of a life that feels richer to them. They have chosen discipline as a lifestyle, choosing not to eat junk food, not to drink or smoke, not to have sex, or whatever, in order to achieve something spiritual. The best yet is seeing these people use the extra time, money and energy they have to achieve something beautiful and powerful in the world, making other people's lives better.
To me, this sort of life looks like a soft, baby blue blanket: comforting, warm, peaceful, strong, but constant, unvaried. In contract, some people live lives like eccentric quilts, with hundreds of fabrics, from rough linen to silk to corduroy, all patched together in crazy ways. They live highs and lows, moments of ecstasy and depression, always with waves of emotions. Their lives are always changing, they live extremes, they are always seeking variety and bigger and better experiences. It feels chaotic, unstable, like the fabric could unravel at any moment.
This also feels like it has value. These people experience the breadth of life.
I guess I fear that my life is always somewhere in between: neither deep nor broad, neither disciplined nor varied, neither content nor ecstatic. I hope there's a middle way with value as well.
