Last night, as I got into bed, Cindy said, “there’s something going on with my Boo Boo!” I was struggling again with reconciling what seems to be happening in my experience with what other people tell me is, or should be, happening. I keep coming back to this dynamic of doubting my own experience and letting other people tell me what’s happening for me; it seems to be at the core of my suffering as a human.
I’ve been told several times that I’m a nihilist. So last night I read the Wikipedia definition of nihilism, and it definitely doesn’t resonate with me. I have no interest in complex philosophies like that. One branch of it even denies reality; I’m pretty sure I don’t deny reality.
Nihilism (meaning ‘nothing’) is the philosophical viewpoint that suggests the denial or lack of belief towards the reputedly meaningful aspects of life.
I don’t even know what “reputedly meaningful aspects of life” means. Wild guess here: do they mean friends and family? I love having friends and family. Maybe I’m becoming cognitively challenged; even the definition of nihilism doesn’t make any sense to me; it seems totally abstract and meaningless in itself.
Most of the time, I seem to be going about my day in a state of relatively calm contentment. Now and then there is a sudden experience that I would label as discontent. It’s…
