I wrote it because I truly believe that failure has taught me SO much more than success—and sometimes late at night, after a glass of wine or four, I write love letters that are really only rants on paper.
I do.
Look for yours in the mail.
“Our self-systems are like leaky buckets. No matter how much pleasure we’re getting, we’re bleeding from our many holes” – Jamie Weil
There’s something I never really gave any thought to: While human beings are wired for pleasure, sadly, we are incapable of collecting and stockpiling joy?
No one can argue that we are experts at doing that with fear and anxiety. It seems as if humans are hardwired to hoard all of those bottom feeding emotions. Collecting them in the storage unit parts of our brains that we visit much too often.
When something good happens I always say to my friends, “Wow! I’m going to live off the fumes of THIS for a while!” Because I have to remind myself to do that.
To inhale deeply while it lasts.
Because…Fumes!
The joy leaves only fumes while the shit sticks. It sets up camp inside my narrative complete with a big old tent, a canoe, some jet skis, a generator, and a box of graham crackers.
Am I right?
In other words, after a peak experience, we as realists go right back to chopping wood, carrying water.
“After the ecstasy, the laundry.” ~ Puritan mindset
Shouldn’t we try and change that? I think so. So does Jason. Take a quick listen.
Hey there fellow seekers,
Listen, we’re all seeking enlightenment in our own way. Right? Whether through meditation, tantric sex, or the most transcendent piece of salted dark chocolate. But what about mystical experiences? Do they count?
My answer to that is a big, fat, YES! And they’re easier to come by. 😉
Witnessing the birth of a baby. Holding a loved one’s hand as they die. Completing a triathlon.
Listening to opera music.
For me, it happened while I was listening to the perfect piece of music while riding a perfect road, on a cloudless day that was the perfect temperature, on the back of our motorcycle—on the way to a sumptuous lunch—in Lucca, Italy. I have to admit, I cried a little.
According to Jason, “A Mystical experience is an encounter with transcendence.”
It includes but is not limited to:
Feelings of cosmic unity. Interconnectedness.
A mind free of all boundaries.
A feeling of ecstasy.
Feelings of being in the presence of something sacred.
An experience beyond language.
Multiple paradoxes. Understanding the unexplainable.
Feelings of being forever changed by a finite experience.
It holds the understanding of a deeper meaning.
So pay attention this weekend, because a mystical experience can happen to you when you least expect it.
Carry on,
xox
The best part of this video is watching Jason giggle like an eight year old boy and then break into some Latin (like you do), while discussing The Kiss.
So, tell me, why do people kiss each other? Haven’t you asked yourself that question? I have.
I remember a long time ago reading somewhere, I think relating to Kabbalah (an ancient and mystical form of Judaism), the high regard with which they held a kiss. They consider it a sacred act. It is an act so intimate that you are virtually “sharing” the breath of another person.
Knowing that marked me.
Today, the most widely accepted theory of kissing is that we humans do it because it helps us sniff out a quality mate. When our faces are close together, our pheromones “talk” – exchanging biological information about whether or not two people will make strong offspring.
Well, that’s just not sexy.
Here are some other fun facts I found:
Do any other animals kiss?
Save for the bonobos that suck on each other’s tongues for up to ten minutes at a time, there aren’t any animals that kiss. And are we really going to count a tongue-suck as a kiss anyway? Somehow, humans are actually the only species to kiss on the mouth, and the meanings of a kiss are plentiful.
Why do they call it a French kiss?
The term ‘French kiss’ – once also called a ‘Florentine kiss’ – is popularly considered to have been brought back to the English-speaking world by soldiers returning from Europe after World War I. At the time, the French had a reputation for more adventurous sexual practices, and so it happened that these soldiers returned to their sweethearts with some newly acquired “skills”.
That being said, with decades of dating under my belt, I became a bit of a connoisseur regarding kissing. There is a Goldilocks zone where kissing is concerned. I’m sure you’ll all agree with me on the fact that a bad kisser can kill even the best chemistry.
No tight, dry “butt pucker” lips.
No overly moist delivery that makes you want to wipe your face with the sleeve of your jacket.
No wide open “shark mouth” where your teeth bang together.
And my least favorite, the wild tongue thrusting where it feels like they’re looking for their car keys somewhere around your tonsils.
Ah, the kiss. Done well it makes me giggle and speak Latin too—how about you?
