Simplify, reduce, subtract, detach. As Arsenio Hall used to say, “Let’s get busy!”
On whom we depend, we are enslaved by. A good deal of popular music is devoted to the pain and pleasure of this arrangement. The true man is like the sun. Completely unattached.
Are we human sticky buns, glue-meisters clinging to persons, possessions and relationships? Trouble that way lies. Not that persons, possessions and relationships are inherently troublesome. Not at all. But stickiness? That’s the devil.
Whereas intelligence is featureless, detached and not easy to discern, ignorance is blazingly obvious.
When a man loses his fear of pain, he stops craving pleasure. Freedom from one is freedom from the other. Pain and pleasure are back to front, front to back. One is both.