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<div class="moz-cite-prefix">On 8/24/21 10:54 AM, uǝlƃ ☤>$ wrote:<br>
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cite="mid:672ed353-f2f4-b672-18bb-b1712e9f4ffe@gmail.com">
<pre class="moz-quote-pre" wrap="">I suppose my problem is that I *do* think we can find "the sadness" inside the brain ... well, not inside the brain, exactly, but inside the *body* ... well, not *inside* the body but peri-body, localized *at* the body, but extending out into the body's context a bit</pre>
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Just like with one's thumb, sadness comprises a dynamic mesh of interlinked feedback loops. And that dynamic mesh of feedback is *part* of a larger mesh of such loops. (Re: "putting it in a robot" - cf types of attention: soft, hard, self, etc.) Some of those loops *look at* the sadness cluster, register that cluster as "other" in some sense ... just like how I can imagine chopping off my thumb and tossing that object into the woods.</pre>
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One of my favorite books (or at least book titles) about depression
is "Born on a Blue Day"... in exploring the natural history of "the
noonday demon" it is fascinating to discover the myriad ways humans
have apprehended (and possibly experienced?) "depression". The
monastic "acedia" and "melancholy" come to mind as alternative
apprehensions of similar experiences?
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cite="mid:672ed353-f2f4-b672-18bb-b1712e9f4ffe@gmail.com">
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Because I do this all the time, it would blow my mind if others did not also do it. I particularly do it with fear. Wake up startled. Think maybe there's someone in the house. Grab the bat. As I'm walking up the stairs, I *reflect* on my registered, now objectified fear. And, in doing so, wiggle my way out of the grip of that fear and think more tactically about how to behave if there's a human-shaped shadow in the living room.
I do the same thing with pain, particularly my chronic back pain, but also with things like stubbed toes. It's fscking hilarious how much that hurts ... ridiculously over-emphasized pain for what has happened. To not step outside the pain and laugh out loud would be weird. It's just way too funny how much that hurts.</pre>
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<p>I remember acutely the two moments as a child when I A) landed on
my tailbone; and B) knocked my wind out.</p>
<p>My very first or most evident thought was "Gawdess, I think I'm
going to die!" followed quickly by "Oh my Gawdess I'm afraid this
might not kill me and I will have to endure it (another minute
which feels like) forever!". Those kinds of overwrought visceral
experiences are so deep, they are hard to avoid, even if it IS
possible to "step outside and laugh at it". I don't do either
(wind nor tailbone) often in my older and more careful years but
when excruciatingly painful (out of scale of reason) things happen
to me, I have learned to just give over to it because I KNOW it is
transient and I TRUST I would never induce that kind of pain
deliberately, I might as well indulge in the experience of this
rare Altered State for the brief moment it will be with me. <br>
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<span class="Y2IQFc" lang="es">Coloréame loco,</span>
<p> - Steve<br>
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