Thursday, 9 November 2017

Forest Ango: Why

Me, Day 100
The risk is there, clearly. Isolation, mishap, loneliness. And all the dangers of living in the rough. Of which the worst by far is humanity: property pricks, law enforcement, psychopaths. As a child, growing up in the Washington woods, I was taught that "the most dangerous animal in the forest is Man."

But I would have to run these risks, and more, if I wanted to see the elephant. And this I was determined to do, as the masters taught. Or die trying.

The Buddha called my state "world-weariness". It's that moment when you're simply done. You can no longer lie to yourself about human striving. It's futile, and any moron can see that. The endless yimmer-yammer about intangible rewards and ultimate good no longer drugs you; you've seen reality, and you can't unsee it.

There's a touch of anger, and another of spite, in this moment, but neither is the disorder. Depression is similarly in play, and so is despair, but world-weariness cannot be anaesthetised; rather, it's caused by anaesthesia.

You're just… done.

And I was done.

(Adapted from 100 Days on the Mountain, copyright RK Henderson.)
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