HARSHING MY OWN MELLOW

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You know when a catchphrase filters all the way down to me that it's time to retire it. A couple of days ago I lost my sketchbook, my latest little Moleskine. And since then I've been contemplating suicide oops, did I say that? I've been thinking about loss and attachment and suffering, in the Buddhist sense of it. As soon as you acquire something, you worry about it going away. And by "something" I don't just mean a sketchbook, I also mean a job, an animal, a person, an experience, a feeling. And at some point, what pleasure you get from it comes not from it , but from having it. When I was thinking about what pleasure I will be missing by not having my sketchbook, it certainly wasn't from the loss of the drawings; they're all scanned, and I don't often go back and gaze at them adoringly anyway. The pleasure was in looking at the stack of sketchbooks on my shelf and knowing I have them-- and nobody else does . What kind of thing is that? About 99.9999% of the things I've acquired in my lifetime are no longer in my possession. Why not enjoy what's here right now, and then enjoy the next thing to come down the road? It's not that any of this is new, but damn! I have to keep learning these lessons over and over again, every goddamn minute! It's wearing me out.