Hedonism: there when you need it!

We are all, kinda, idiots.

We are all capable of seeing truth. Both the subjective kind, where we know we’re the one that sees things differently, are likely wrong, and we don’t care, and objective truth, where it’s really still subjective, but seems so obvious all sane people agree.

Regardless, we are all willing to look away from truth when it makes us squirm.

Varicose veins are a prime example. They seem like a natural conversation starter:

Ah! What the fuck’s going on there?

But we look away from the truth.

I suggest that all truth is as cruel as varicose veins, which turns out to be a metaphor with some legs.

Ha! Did ya see that?!

Seriously, though, we keep our deepest innermost thoughts to ourselves because most of the time we are navel gazing and you don’t want to lead with the foot with the blue ziggly veins on top.

Meaning, the truth is so hurtful to all of us, about who we are, our animal natures, our selfishness, our inability to get our behaviors where they are both healthy and worth fucking with at all — who wants to lead with that foot?

So dudes, dudettarinas, here’s the lowdown.

The skinny.

The straight shit.

Hedonism is God’s gift to the overwhelmed. It’s God saying Hey! Lighten up! I’ll make it easy for you.

For my Bible-savvy readers, that’s consider the lilies…

Look at it this way. If you see hedonism as a bad thing, you’re taking yourself too seriously. You’re giving yourself ulcers trying to make sense of a riddle that must be nonsensical because it is written in human language but only answerable in the Eternal.

If this essay was a modern song, here’s where’d the lead would say, break it down, and all the separate components of the magic would be revealed:

The Eternal language is love.

Hedonism is doing what you love. Intoxicating yourself on what you love. Aggressively and too much.

With abandon.

Oh, Lord!

Abandon!

How can that be wrong?

To break it down to compost-level information: most of what we think about while we are thinking is stupid or wrong. It’s usually hurtful to ourselves or someone else.

Why not instead chill out with a Jack and Coke?

Find something that fits in a spice grinder and smoke it?

Put your feet in warm water and listen to the Baer Creighton audio book series?

Or some such?

How’s that a bad thing?

It isn’t. We’re all too agitated. We’re not loving enough.