The Discipline of Spiritual Self-Improvement

Nicholas Gonzalez8 said:But wait a second—doesn't God permeate the entire physical world? I mean, if the spiritual realm is enough on its own, why even bother creating a material universe in the first place?

Sure, God is everywhere, but you could argue His presence is at its most limited within the material plane—mostly because God is infinite and eternal, while matter is just... well, finite, temporary, and destined to die. But honestly, the physical world feels absolutely necessary, right? It acts as the perfect counterweight to the spiritual side, which actually helps both realms evolve. Think about it—if we only had a purely spiritual existence, there wouldn't be any real change or growth, and without change, existence itself kind of loses its point, whether you're looking at this life or the next.
I mean, the material world feeds the spiritual one, and vice versa. It’s like a cycle—when someone passes away in the physical sense, they’re essentially being born into the spiritual realm, and coming into this world physically means leaving the spiritual one behind. It's this complete, closed loop that mirrors the entire universe. I know, it's a bit of a heavy concept to wrap your head around, and I'm probably not the best at explaining it simply, but that's how I see it.
At the end of the day, trying to fully grasp God's intentions is way beyond what the human mind can actually process.

Kimberly Smith6 said:From what I’ve been gathering from the various threads here, it seems we are essentially weighing the merits of pure hedonism and materialism against the pursuit of spiritual growth.

Now, I feel like many of us tend to get a little muddled when we talk about seeking spiritual development, because before we can even begin, we really ought to pause and ask ourselves: what does "spiritual growth" actually signify to me personally?
In other words, what specific aspect of my spirit am I aiming to cultivate, given that the term "spirituality" doesn't carry any inherent weight on its own, much like how "materialism" doesn't define what one owns.

If I may attempt to clarify this comparison between materialism and spirituality through a bit of a mental exercise—some might argue that their version of materialism is satisfied just having a decent place to sleep, perhaps even a modest apartment in a quiet suburb, while others would insist they won't be content unless they are living in a sprawling mansion in Beverly Hills.
To my mind, both parties are absolutely correct in their own way, simply because their respective material desires have been met.

But moving back to the realm of the soul, what is it that you all are actually trying to develop when you speak of spirituality?
One person might say that a simple, steadfast faith in God, Allah, or Yahweh is sufficient—meaning they just kneel down in a quiet moment and offer a prayer, nothing more complex than that. Meanwhile, another might claim that spirituality involves traversing astral planes, a third might focus on deep meditation to find inner peace, and then a fourth, fifth, or sixth person will go on to list an entirely different set of practices... please, feel free to continue that list yourselves.

I find myself thinking once again that every single one of those perspectives is valid. And why is that?
It is quite simply because nowhere in the heavens is there a celestial manual, written in bold letters or illustrated in vivid detail, dictating which specific path is the one true and correct way for every individual to live. Even if we look to sacred texts, we must remember that those books were penned by humans who claimed to be speaking for God, but does that truth remain static for all eternity, or has something shifted in the grand design since those days?

Has God, Allah, Yahweh, or some other higher power ever reached out to you directly to whisper exactly what you must do, or to define your specific purpose and mission here on Earth?
I suspect that for at least 99.99% of the people hanging out on this forum, the answer is a resounding no.

Then there is hedonism, which I see as a synonym for indulgence or pleasure-seeking.
Here again, we are forced to confront the question: what does hedonism actually mean to you?
Some will point toward physical intimacy, others toward gourmet food, and some might even include spiritual exploration itself.
And once again, I shall say that everyone is right!
Why?
Because there is no universal definition provided for what constitutes hedonism, as the meaning shifts for every single soul here on this forum, and as we experience satiation, our very definition of pleasure can evolve and transform.
For instance, someone might find their ultimate hedonistic joy in physical intimacy today, only to find that tomorrow, their sense of indulgence has shifted toward the tranquility of meditation or the solace of prayer.

Is pursuing pleasure through physical intimacy inherently a bad thing?
I wouldn't go so far as to say it is. I see it primarily as a way to satisfy the needs of our bodies, which, after all, possess a fundamental biological drive to ensure the continuation of the species. If we deliberately deny ourselves those needs, we only end up feeling unfulfilled.

We truly must tend to both the body and the spirit, for it is widely understood that a healthy mind resides within a healthy body.

If we are struggling with physical ailments, it becomes nearly impossible to focus on spiritual growth, because our entire consciousness becomes consumed by the singular goal of healing, only to eventually return to our pursuit of hedonism—whether that be through material comforts or spiritual delights.

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Look, at the end of the day, hedonism—or just pure enjoyment—is totally relative.
Think about it: for some folks, food tastes way better after you've worked up an appetite.
It’s the same deal with sex; if we hold off for a few days, the experience feels much more intense.

Then again, you can find bliss without any external stuff at all. Like, about ten years ago, I spent a few days alone in a monk's cell in a quiet monastery, just being by myself with nothing. After the initial anxiety wore off, I felt a level of happiness I’d never experienced before.

Kimberly Smith6 said:From what I’ve been gathering from the various threads here, it seems we are essentially weighing the merits of pure hedonism and materialism against the pursuit of spiritual growth.

Now, I feel like many of us tend to get a little muddled when we talk about seeking spiritual development, because before we can even begin, we really ought to pause and ask ourselves: what does "spiritual growth" actually signify to me personally?
In other words, what specific aspect of my spirit am I aiming to cultivate, given that the term "spirituality" doesn't carry any inherent weight on its own, much like how "materialism" doesn't define what one owns.

If I may attempt to clarify this comparison between materialism and spirituality through a bit of a mental exercise—some might argue that their version of materialism is satisfied just having a decent place to sleep, perhaps even a modest apartment in a quiet suburb, while others would insist they won't be content unless they are living in a sprawling mansion in Beverly Hills.
To my mind, both parties are absolutely correct in their own way, simply because their respective material desires have been met.

But moving back to the realm of the soul, what is it that you all are actually trying to develop when you speak of spirituality?
One person might say that a simple, steadfast faith in God, Allah, or Yahweh is sufficient—meaning they just kneel down in a quiet moment and offer a prayer, nothing more complex than that. Meanwhile, another might claim that spirituality involves traversing astral planes, a third might focus on deep meditation to find inner peace, and then a fourth, fifth, or sixth person will go on to list an entirely different set of practices... please, feel free to continue that list yourselves.

I find myself thinking once again that every single one of those perspectives is valid. And why is that?
It is quite simply because nowhere in the heavens is there a celestial manual, written in bold letters or illustrated in vivid detail, dictating which specific path is the one true and correct way for every individual to live. Even if we look to sacred texts, we must remember that those books were penned by humans who claimed to be speaking for God, but does that truth remain static for all eternity, or has something shifted in the grand design since those days?

Has God, Allah, Yahweh, or some other higher power ever reached out to you directly to whisper exactly what you must do, or to define your specific purpose and mission here on Earth?
I suspect that for at least 99.99% of the people hanging out on this forum, the answer is a resounding no.

Then there is hedonism, which I see as a synonym for indulgence or pleasure-seeking.
Here again, we are forced to confront the question: what does hedonism actually mean to you?
Some will point toward physical intimacy, others toward gourmet food, and some might even include spiritual exploration itself.
And once again, I shall say that everyone is right!
Why?
Because there is no universal definition provided for what constitutes hedonism, as the meaning shifts for every single soul here on this forum, and as we experience satiation, our very definition of pleasure can evolve and transform.
For instance, someone might find their ultimate hedonistic joy in physical intimacy today, only to find that tomorrow, their sense of indulgence has shifted toward the tranquility of meditation or the solace of prayer.

Is pursuing pleasure through physical intimacy inherently a bad thing?
I wouldn't go so far as to say it is. I see it primarily as a way to satisfy the needs of our bodies, which, after all, possess a fundamental biological drive to ensure the continuation of the species. If we deliberately deny ourselves those needs, we only end up feeling unfulfilled.

We truly must tend to both the body and the spirit, for it is widely understood that a healthy mind resides within a healthy body.

If we are struggling with physical ailments, it becomes nearly impossible to focus on spiritual growth, because our entire consciousness becomes consumed by the singular goal of healing, only to eventually return to our pursuit of hedonism—whether that be through material comforts or spiritual delights.

Tapatalk 2 using mobile - Apple Watch

Look, at the end of the day, hedonism—or just pure enjoyment—is totally relative.
Think about it: if you've been fasting, the food tastes way better when you finally eat.
It's the same deal with sex; if you hold off for a few days, the pleasure is much more intense.

Then again, you can find joy in absolutely nothing at all. Like, about ten years ago, I spent a few days alone in a tiny room at a monastery, just being by myself with zero distractions. After that initial wave of anxiety passed, I felt this incredible happiness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. But yeah... that was more of a spiritual kind of satisfaction.

Casey Gomez said:I misread the situation slightly. My apologies for the tone. 😬
Quincy:

I am stating quite clearly that material constraints are not some inherent limitation that dictates one's destiny.

It’s clear that this is the medium we live in.
Quincy:

You’re attempting to resolve a conflict using nothing but intellect and theory—an exercise in futility, quite frankly. It is impossible because you are fundamentally incapable of reconciling your lofty ideals with objective reality. I suppose that explains the endless stream of questions and premises cluttering up your opening post. I am discussing the subjective interpretation here—specifically, how we value the concept of asceticism. The context in which this ideal exists is fundamentally at odds with the reality in which most people actually live their lives.

The ideal isn't some subjective whim. It is an intrinsic part of our very being. At its core, the ideal functions as an archetypal entity—a psychological constant woven into our nature that manifests in the physical world through images like the "wise man." Religious figures serve as prime examples of this paradigm. Before he renounced material wealth, Buddha was a man of immense fortune; similarly, Christ was confronted in the desert with the temptation of all the world's riches if he would only bow down. Therefore, this ideal—and I am referring to the totality of it, not just the ascetic aspects—is almost always unattainable. It may be reached by a rare few, but it remains a fundamental imperative.

Quincy:

Rationalization, in this particular context, implies that we cannot even begin to discuss who is willing to go how far before we truly grasp why—and indeed, how—such a thing would ever be possible for a human being; which, for most people, is exactly what I took to be the core question in the introduction.

I don't put any stock in the masses. I only believe in the individual. It’s rare enough to find someone who actually asks a question, even rarer to find those who attempt to live, and an even smaller fraction of people who truly exist.
Quincy:

Look, I am not suggesting that asceticism is about material deprivation in the traditional sense—in fact, it is quite the exact opposite—so your question regarding whether I receive some sort of special treatment is entirely nonsensical.

The definition of asceticism remains somewhat murky given its various connotations, so you simply cannot alter the core meaning of the term.
Quincy:

I fail to grasp the point you’re trying to make in the bolded section.

Well, my brain has officially checked out again. 😲

It's fine 😳

Personally, I don't believe in the masses. Only the individual. It's rare to find those who ask questions, rarer still those who try to live, and even fewer who actually do...

Fair enough.

The definition of ascetic carries specific connotations, so you can't just shift the meaning of the term.

That's exactly what 🤔 was saying; it felt like you were twisting the context.

Since you clarified you meant it in terms of an archetypal ideal, it feels more fluid... it makes sense what you're aiming for when you write.

I guess I'm not always clear when I write either, so maybe I should just step back...

🙂

Ryan Rogers5 said:Look, at the end of the day, hedonism—or just pure enjoyment—is totally relative.
Think about it: if you've been fasting, the food tastes way better when you finally eat.
It's the same deal with sex; if you hold off for a few days, the pleasure is much more intense.

Then again, you can find joy in absolutely nothing at all. Like, about ten years ago, I spent a few days alone in a tiny room at a monastery, just being by myself with zero distractions. After that initial wave of anxiety passed, I felt this incredible happiness unlike anything I'd ever experienced before. But yeah... that was more of a spiritual kind of satisfaction.

That is exactly my point! When we make a conscious choice to follow a path of fasting or temporary abstinence, what we are really doing is practicing a form of deprivation for a set period. During that time, our desires naturally begin to build up, and when we finally step out of that phase of self-denial, everything feels so much sweeter.
In many ways, the things we crave most are precisely those things we have temporarily denied ourselves.

As for your experience of finding joy in nothingness, I suspect you simply reached a state of true peace and tranquility where you didn't actually *need* anything else, which is why you were able to feel so content.

That’s why I maintain that hedonism is deeply subjective; it varies from one person to the next, and people often shift their sources of pleasure because they won't rely on the same single thing forever.

To put it another way, I don't believe a human being is ever truly, permanently satisfied for the rest of their life. We are always, throughout our entire existence, reaching for new forms of hedonistic gratification and constantly evolving our desires.

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When I first started posting about the ascetic lifestyle using those specific connotations, I didn't anticipate this level of widespread misunderstanding. Perhaps my delivery lacked clarity, or perhaps your collective backgrounds in studying spirituality are simply so divergent from mine that we're speaking different languages—though I find that distinction somewhat baffling.🤔It is evident that most perspectives here are rooted in monotheistic worldviews, whereas I am an atheist.
I had expected to encounter someone possessing both theoretical knowledge and practical experience on the subject, yet apparently, no such person exists. It seems those with actual substance tend to avoid engaging in empty chatter on internet forums.😬
My personal stance regarding the ascetic path is essentially apodictic; it isn't derived from lived experience so much as it stems from an a priori objectivism—a stubborn desire to remain consistent with logical conclusions, regardless of how unpleasant they may be.
Ultimately, this isn't merely a matter of morality or subjective idealism; it is fundamentally a question of neurobiology.😳

Making a sudden leap from riding a horse to walking on foot is bound to kill your motivation, so you really ought to cultivate detachment gradually rather than rushing headlong into it like a headless fly.
An ascetic lifestyle is essential for moral progress because it effectively strips away selfishness.
Something else required—which I haven't mentioned yet—is an indifferent approach to the ambiguity of pleasure and pain. In short, maintain a sense of apathy toward both enjoyment and discomfort. You have to accept both sides, as they are inextricably linked like Siamese twins.
Practically speaking, you can start with your diet. Consume foods that are good for your body even if they taste mediocre; if you aren't struggling to make ends meet, perhaps slip a larger bill to a homeless person on the street (it won't hurt you much if you simply forget you ever gave it, especially since everything we possess is ultimately granted to us by someone else, and to them, that money might mean a six-pack or a stack of cash to ease their own suffering).
For instance, when you're walking down the street in the summer and a fresh tuna fillet passes by, consciously perceive the urge to follow it with your eyes. Focus on that phenomenon within your consciousness as a present reality, shifting your attention away from the fish as a physical object on the road and onto the sensation of desire itself, gently quieting the flame so the water doesn't boil over. Don't try to extinguish the desire entirely, though; that’s impossible, and if you don't keep it simmering, it will just snap back at you.
There is plenty more to it. I won't bore you with further details.

Kimberly Smith6 said:That is exactly my point! When we make a conscious choice to follow a path of fasting or temporary abstinence, what we are really doing is practicing a form of deprivation for a set period. During that time, our desires naturally begin to build up, and when we finally step out of that phase of self-denial, everything feels so much sweeter.
In many ways, the things we crave most are precisely those things we have temporarily denied ourselves.

As for your experience of finding joy in nothingness, I suspect you simply reached a state of true peace and tranquility where you didn't actually *need* anything else, which is why you were able to feel so content.

That’s why I maintain that hedonism is deeply subjective; it varies from one person to the next, and people often shift their sources of pleasure because they won't rely on the same single thing forever.

To put it another way, I don't believe a human being is ever truly, permanently satisfied for the rest of their life. We are always, throughout our entire existence, reaching for new forms of hedonistic gratification and constantly evolving our desires.

Tapatalk 2 using mobile - Apple Watch

But honestly, I don't think that's quite right,
See, those deep spiritual highs usually come from being totally drained, not because life was easy or I didn't need anything.
Actually, things were pretty messy at home when it happened.

Ryan Rogers5 said:But honestly, I don't think that's quite right,
See, those deep spiritual highs usually come from being totally drained, not because life was easy or I didn't need anything.
Actually, things were pretty messy at home when it happened.

At the end of the day, true fulfillment is something you find deep within yourself rather than looking for it out in the world; it's a feeling you carry inside your own heart, not something you're going to stumble upon while driving down some highway. 😁

Ryan Rogers5 said:Sure, God is everywhere, but you could argue His presence is at its most limited within the material plane—mostly because God is infinite and eternal, while matter is just... well, finite, temporary, and destined to die. But honestly, the physical world feels absolutely necessary, right? It acts as the perfect counterweight to the spiritual side, which actually helps both realms evolve. Think about it—if we only had a purely spiritual existence, there wouldn't be any real change or growth, and without change, existence itself kind of loses its point, whether you're looking at this life or the next.
I mean, the material world feeds the spiritual one, and vice versa. It’s like a cycle—when someone passes away in the physical sense, they’re essentially being born into the spiritual realm, and coming into this world physically means leaving the spiritual one behind. It's this complete, closed loop that mirrors the entire universe. I know, it's a bit of a heavy concept to wrap your head around, and I'm probably not the best at explaining it simply, but that's how I see it.
At the end of the day, trying to fully grasp God's intentions is way beyond what the human mind can actually process.

I get where you're coming from—I tend to lean toward similar thoughts myself. But I wouldn't go so far as to say God is least present in the material; I'd say that's just where we suffer from the biggest illusion that He isn't there. Also, I don't think matter is inherently "limited" compared to the spiritual—it's more like both are constantly shifting and evolving. Everything changes.

...serve to shift one's perception and state of consciousness, offering a brief reprieve from the crushing boredom of daily existence. Life's various setbacks, coupled with the sheer weight of monotony, tend to drown any sense of optimism or spiritual clarity in a bleak, gray void of mindless suffering.
Alright, maybe that was a bit dramatic.
Still, a person can find a certain satisfaction in the clarity of their own spirit—in that resigned refusal to chase the illusions of perceived reality—and take pride, if only internally, in their own resolve.
Therefore, the imperative lies in sobriety; let imagination go to hell. Or so they say, but one must actually put in the work to experience anything else, otherwise, what's even the point of me explaining this?
The solution is psychophysical training. It’s about finding self-satisfaction through a sense of superiority—not over other people, because that's a misguided path, but over life's hardships and its endless desires.

Nicholas Gonzalez8 said:I get where you're coming from—I tend to lean toward similar thoughts myself. But I wouldn't go so far as to say God is least present in the material; I'd say that's just where we suffer from the biggest illusion that He isn't there. Also, I don't think matter is inherently "limited" compared to the spiritual—it's more like both are constantly shifting and evolving. Everything changes.

So, alright then, if that's the case, what exactly in this material universe is actually infinite and eternal?
Planets, stars, galaxies... everything has a beginning and an end, doesn't it?

Ryan Rogers5 said:Sure, God is everywhere, but you could argue His presence is at its most limited within the material plane—mostly because God is infinite and eternal, while matter is just... well, finite, temporary, and destined to die. But honestly, the physical world feels absolutely necessary, right? It acts as the perfect counterweight to the spiritual side, which actually helps both realms evolve. Think about it—if we only had a purely spiritual existence, there wouldn't be any real change or growth, and without change, existence itself kind of loses its point, whether you're looking at this life or the next.
I mean, the material world feeds the spiritual one, and vice versa. It’s like a cycle—when someone passes away in the physical sense, they’re essentially being born into the spiritual realm, and coming into this world physically means leaving the spiritual one behind. It's this complete, closed loop that mirrors the entire universe. I know, it's a bit of a heavy concept to wrap your head around, and I'm probably not the best at explaining it simply, but that's how I see it.
At the end of the day, trying to fully grasp God's intentions is way beyond what the human mind can actually process.

So, are we talking about two separate worlds here?

wearyhawk83 said:So, are we talking about two separate worlds here?

Look, there are plenty of different worlds out there—I was just breaking things down into the material versus the spiritual side of things. But honestly? What really worries me more is how much this forum seems to be losing its spark lately.
It’s all just empty philosophy at this point.

mistygull16 said:Take the Aghoris, for instance. They’ve got to drink booze endlessly, smoke weed, eat corpses and waste... hanging out with dead bodies and all that...

(don't watch this one unless you're tough enough)

https://www.google.com/search?q=aghor...w=1920&bih=955

Things work differently out East. The Aghor actually command quite a bit of respect. I guess it’s because while most people lose their way and just go crazy, a small few actually become true tantrics and commit to the path. Essentially, they just worship the darker side of the divine. For those of us raised on standard American Christian values, I suppose it's pretty hard to wrap our heads around, since we tend to see everything in such strict terms of "good versus evil."

Casey Gomez said:...serve to shift one's perception and state of consciousness, offering a brief reprieve from the crushing boredom of daily existence. Life's various setbacks, coupled with the sheer weight of monotony, tend to drown any sense of optimism or spiritual clarity in a bleak, gray void of mindless suffering.
Alright, maybe that was a bit dramatic.
Still, a person can find a certain satisfaction in the clarity of their own spirit—in that resigned refusal to chase the illusions of perceived reality—and take pride, if only internally, in their own resolve.
Therefore, the imperative lies in sobriety; let imagination go to hell. Or so they say, but one must actually put in the work to experience anything else, otherwise, what's even the point of me explaining this?
The solution is psychophysical training. It’s about finding self-satisfaction through a sense of superiority—not over other people, because that's a misguided path, but over life's hardships and its endless desires.

I heard that Richard Feynman once tried using fasting and specific meditative exercises to trigger altered states of consciousness. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the results, so he moved on to LSD. He mentioned it was a hell of a lot better than starving yourself and turning your brain upside down. 😲😁

http://www.nytimes.com/after5/drugs-...experiences-250357

Casey Gomez said:Making a sudden leap from riding a horse to walking on foot is bound to kill your motivation, so you really ought to cultivate detachment gradually rather than rushing headlong into it like a headless fly.
An ascetic lifestyle is essential for moral progress because it effectively strips away selfishness.
Something else required—which I haven't mentioned yet—is an indifferent approach to the ambiguity of pleasure and pain. In short, maintain a sense of apathy toward both enjoyment and discomfort. You have to accept both sides, as they are inextricably linked like Siamese twins.
Practically speaking, you can start with your diet. Consume foods that are good for your body even if they taste mediocre; if you aren't struggling to make ends meet, perhaps slip a larger bill to a homeless person on the street (it won't hurt you much if you simply forget you ever gave it, especially since everything we possess is ultimately granted to us by someone else, and to them, that money might mean a six-pack or a stack of cash to ease their own suffering).
For instance, when you're walking down the street in the summer and a fresh tuna fillet passes by, consciously perceive the urge to follow it with your eyes. Focus on that phenomenon within your consciousness as a present reality, shifting your attention away from the fish as a physical object on the road and onto the sensation of desire itself, gently quieting the flame so the water doesn't boil over. Don't try to extinguish the desire entirely, though; that’s impossible, and if you don't keep it simmering, it will just snap back at you.
There is plenty more to it. I won't bore you with further details.

I have a friend who tried fasting a few times. He told me it just wasn't his thing because all it did was leave him feeling angry, unfocused, sensitive, and irritable...
And then there's another guy I know with cancer who's trying to treat it with a raw food diet. Now, suddenly, raw food is his greatest joy. In reality, it isn't "joy," but he's convinced himself it's his salvation. As for spirituality? At this rate, he's on the fast track to believing in Santa Claus.😲
The thing is, the human brain is incredibly adaptable—maybe even too much so. It’s highly suggestible. If we fall into some bizarre, uncomfortable ritual, our minds can easily spin a narrative that these habits are actually beneficial or essential for us.
Now, if we want to be a bit pedantic about it—and I know, I know—historical records don't exactly paint the medieval flagellants as paragons of spiritual wisdom. Truth be told, they were mostly just religious fanatics and zealots losing their grip.
Still, there might be some merit to finding value in asceticism:

Take Ludwig van Beethoven, for example. He used to develop his most brilliant ideas right in the bathroom. Even after he lost his hearing, he became one of the most influential composers in history. I read this account once where he’d just stand over the sink, splashing water over his hands, leaning in close, and mumbling melodies under his breath all at once. Then, he’d pace around the room, eyes rolling, scribbling down notes, before circling back to the water and the singing.

Ryan Rogers5 said:So, alright then, if that's the case, what exactly in this material universe is actually infinite and eternal?
Planets, stars, galaxies... everything has a beginning and an end, doesn't it?

Look, I actually agree with you there. I never claimed some specific shape or form was eternal—nor should it be. It’s the same logic whether you’re looking at the physical world or the spiritual side of things. Think about it: if nothing ever changed, we wouldn't have any progress at all. Constant change is the engine. The essence of existence itself—that's what stays constant.

Benjamin Taylor6 said:I heard that Richard Feynman once tried using fasting and specific meditative exercises to trigger altered states of consciousness. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the results, so he moved on to LSD. He mentioned it was a hell of a lot better than starving yourself and turning your brain upside down. 😲😁

http://www.nytimes.com/after5/drugs-...experiences-250357

I have a friend who tried fasting a few times. He told me it just wasn't his thing because all it did was leave him feeling angry, unfocused, sensitive, and irritable...
And then there's another guy I know with cancer who's trying to treat it with a raw food diet. Now, suddenly, raw food is his greatest joy. In reality, it isn't "joy," but he's convinced himself it's his salvation. As for spirituality? At this rate, he's on the fast track to believing in Santa Claus.😲
The thing is, the human brain is incredibly adaptable—maybe even too much so. It’s highly suggestible. If we fall into some bizarre, uncomfortable ritual, our minds can easily spin a narrative that these habits are actually beneficial or essential for us.
Now, if we want to be a bit pedantic about it—and I know, I know—historical records don't exactly paint the medieval flagellants as paragons of spiritual wisdom. Truth be told, they were mostly just religious fanatics and zealots losing their grip.
Still, there might be some merit to finding value in asceticism:

Take Ludwig van Beethoven, for example. He used to develop his most brilliant ideas right in the bathroom. Even after he lost his hearing, he became one of the most influential composers in history. I read this account once where he’d just stand over the sink, splashing water over his hands, leaning in close, and mumbling melodies under his breath all at once. Then, he’d pace around the room, eyes rolling, scribbling down notes, before circling back to the water and the singing.

And now we’re supposed to be afraid of water too? Just because someone starts hallucinating? Give me a break.

I have a friend who attempted fasting a few times. He concluded it simply wasn't for him because the experience left him feeling nothing but irritable, unfocused, and incredibly moody.

That’s simply the body's reaction when blood sugar levels drop too low.

Another guy is dealing with cancer and thinks he can cure it by eating nothing but raw food. Now, he’s convinced himself that this diet is some kind of culinary breakthrough. It isn't actually enjoyable, but he's successfully brainwashed himself into believing that this lifestyle is his salvation.

When you're backed into a corner like that, everyone just claws their way out however they can.

Ludwig van Beethoven would often hammer out his greatest ideas right in the bathroom. Even after losing his hearing, he managed to become one of the most influential composers on the planet. He’d stand over the sink, splashing water over his hands, leaning in close while humming melodies that were barely intelligible. Then he’d pace around the room, eyes rolling, scribbling down musical notes, only to return to the ritual of splashing water and singing.

I wasn't aware of that.😲

Scott Miller4 said:Things work differently out East. The Aghor actually command quite a bit of respect. I guess it’s because while most people lose their way and just go crazy, a small few actually become true tantrics and commit to the path. Essentially, they just worship the darker side of the divine. For those of us raised on standard American Christian values, I suppose it's pretty hard to wrap our heads around, since we tend to see everything in such strict terms of "good versus evil."

I brought up the Aghor as a counterpoint to asceticism, without really getting into whether you should go to extremes or try to find some middle ground.

I honestly think people just need to be themselves, without building up some new layer of maya (illusion) or ego-driven identity. ☕

Benjamin Taylor6 said:I heard that Richard Feynman once tried using fasting and specific meditative exercises to trigger altered states of consciousness. He wasn't particularly thrilled with the results, so he moved on to LSD. He mentioned it was a hell of a lot better than starving yourself and turning your brain upside down. 😲😁

http://www.nytimes.com/after5/drugs-...experiences-250357

I have a friend who tried fasting a few times. He told me it just wasn't his thing because all it did was leave him feeling angry, unfocused, sensitive, and irritable...
And then there's another guy I know with cancer who's trying to treat it with a raw food diet. Now, suddenly, raw food is his greatest joy. In reality, it isn't "joy," but he's convinced himself it's his salvation. As for spirituality? At this rate, he's on the fast track to believing in Santa Claus.😲
The thing is, the human brain is incredibly adaptable—maybe even too much so. It’s highly suggestible. If we fall into some bizarre, uncomfortable ritual, our minds can easily spin a narrative that these habits are actually beneficial or essential for us.
Now, if we want to be a bit pedantic about it—and I know, I know—historical records don't exactly paint the medieval flagellants as paragons of spiritual wisdom. Truth be told, they were mostly just religious fanatics and zealots losing their grip.
Still, there might be some merit to finding value in asceticism:

Take Ludwig van Beethoven, for example. He used to develop his most brilliant ideas right in the bathroom. Even after he lost his hearing, he became one of the most influential composers in history. I read this account once where he’d just stand over the sink, splashing water over his hands, leaning in close, and mumbling melodies under his breath all at once. Then, he’d pace around the room, eyes rolling, scribbling down notes, before circling back to the water and the singing.

Who screwed Beethoven over? Probably some woman 😳
Reminds me of myself in certain situations. I think the eye-rolling is the key part; the water pitchers are secondary, though they can serve as a catalyst.

I've heard things about Richard Feynman; apparently, he liked his coffee with milk and lemon. Or at least, that's what he said when asked "tea or lemon," replying "both." I sometimes drink ten cups of tea in a row. I'll start with Earl Grey, usually with milk, then move to green tea—I have several kinds—which I take with lemon and honey. If that fails to settle me, I'll grab some peppermint. Now I read somewhere that spearmint can reduce hair growth in women by neutralizing testosterone. I wonder what it does to men... maybe I'll start singing soprano in the bathroom... 😲