To begin, another exploration of philosophy and how it shifts, ignorant of thinkers before me, blissfully believing my thoughts to be original.
I think satisfaction in human life derives primarily from two verbs: do and be.
One who does experiences the joy of accomplishment.
One who is experiences the joy of existence.
Ideally, you do and get a bit of both.
It's like an RPG, though, in that you can tweak your stats to suit your playing style.
Me, I've always been a min-maxer. But it's tricky to pick your dump stat when there's only two different stats.
When hearty be-ers do too little, they suffer a malaise that inhibits doing more and makes it impossible to enjoy existence.
When enthusiastic doers exist too little, they suffer anxieties that ruin any chance of simply being and make it impossible to enjoy their accomplishments.
I'm no captain of accomplishment, but I am an accomplished scientist of existence. I can't speak at great length for the former, but given my intimacy with the latter, I strongly suggest that the joys of existence and accomplishment are not the same, though in cases, one can lead to another.
Tis a joy to be in the season of open windows again. Methinks something foul did grow in my subterranean abode this winter past, and it had been waging war on sinuses with less than pleasant results.
Given the French adventure and an exposure to the black mold as a child, I'd expect to be pretty much immune to these bastards by now, but apparently not.
Whatever. Supersoaker+Lysol=Win < humorous anecdote.
Time to pay rent late!