There are days in which I feel in every inch the reality of Blaise Pascal’s 17th-century statement that all our “miseries derive from not being able to sit in a quiet room alone.”
A few years ago, I was in a canyon in the winter. On one rock, many people had placed their hands against the frosty rock – leaving dark imprints that reminded me of those ancient red ochre hand paintings.
You heard it here first.
(aka I posted something new on AilsaWrites Dot Substack Dot Com)
The Cynics (name = dog-like) did not act like typical philosophers. They kissed icy statues in winter, rolled in hot sand in summer, and masturbated everywhere.
I don’t (necessarily) recommend kissing icy statues in winter, rolling in hot sand in summer, and masturbating everywhere.
The Cynics decided their purpose in life was the ostentatious practice of austerity.
Few do not feel a flush of pleasure on buying a fashionable new hat or coat, and then receiving positive attention for it. But the Cynics warned against such a life.
Aka I wrote a new Substack post (AilsaWrites Dot Substack Dot Com)
My books bring to light the alienation that was already present in my readers
I like sheep. Here are some sheep paintings I found, and some of my photos that Google has erroneously labelled 'sheep'.
Sheep are everywhere. They are in the fields and they are on the cover of many books.
I can think of at least three books with sheep on the cover of them. Are there more?
Over 2,000 years ago, the Cynic philosophers were saying things like:
Just look at gold, which is so sought after, or silver, or expensive houses, fancy clothes, and all that goes with them. Then consider at what price they’re acquired in terms of trouble, pain and danger.
Our lifestyle choices do matter. People's daily behaviour – the way we shop and work and eat – create the standards society is expected to live by.
Out in 2.5 weeks with Strange Light/Penguin Random House CA
I want to tell you about my hero. She lived out on the streets of ancient Athens. She was a Cynic. Her name was Hipparchia.
Wrote some nonsense
“If you read a book, or shuffle a deck of cards, or care for a dog, you are avoiding yourself.” — Beryl Markham
I recommend reading research papers such as ‘The discovery of a PMS-like phenomenon in baboons’
I recommend reading The Meaning is the Massage by Marshall McLuhan.
I am more present when I’m tired. When I am tired, I have no interest in screens. I am beyond the world, beyond being interested in the lives of others. Instead I am in myself. I am in my body, I am in my headache and the pain in my back.
This week on Substack (AilsaWrites Dot Substack Dot Com) I wrote about techno-freedom, and about not having a phone for long periods of my life.
In Nan Shepherd’s bedroom, there was no chair. She would read, often into small hours, sitting on a cushion on the floor.
I recommend getting rid of your chairs.
When people are being mean about books and authors, when they are sharing gossip, and I know what they are talking about, I enjoy it. I follow those people, as many others do. But I would not buy their book.
I hate chairs.
“How surprised I was by my tears. I had not cried in so long. But when I got up, my body was completely free of pain.”
aka notes from my last time meditating at a ten-day Vipassana silent retreat
I recommend Vipassana meditation (on Substack and also just to anyone who will listen).
I wrote something new on Substack
Tehching Hsieh has said that human time had no meaning when considered against the time of the universe.
The ways of ancient Greece are running through the modern day like veins in marble.
Time is an accordion, the past folding in to meet the present.
A new little Substack post for your perusal
By the 1980s, there were many more women working in the field of anthropology. They were better able to integrate with women in foraging societies, to join in the rhythms of their days. They found that women were picking berries and catching lizards and, yes, hunting.
