Let’s view our thoughts from a distance, with the non-reactive interest of a nephrologist surveying a cloudscape. What he sees is, well, what he sees. Here comes a cumulonimbus. There goes a cumulonimbus.
To break our attachment to our thoughts, we should not engage with them. What’s required is that we cultivate a certain aloofness, a majestic indifferency to their false urgency and howls for attention.
We are gradually ceding control to a vast and insinuating intelligence. Being artificial, it’s cold. Take the growing raft of UFO sightings. They conjure no warmth, no friendliness. It’s like we’re being probed.
Over-the-top praise casts a shadow: under-the-table aspersion. The stoic practices indifference to both.
The true man is two-faced to this extent: He plays the game alright but it doesn’t matter to him whether he wins or loses.