tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9094470180280975525.post5106078463568206060..comments2023-10-30T04:38:45.845-07:00Comments on WHEN THE SPIRIT MOVES ME....: ... the other side of the bedjuliehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/02037465392747165349noreply@blogger.comBlogger1125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-9094470180280975525.post-71252018449594478792012-10-19T19:07:38.231-07:002012-10-19T19:07:38.231-07:00"I know the ones who say we have to have sorr..."I know the ones who say we have to have sorrow to appreciate joy are probably right"<br /><br />First off, I'm not sure that this is self-evidently true, but if it is, why do they think it's worthwhile to tell you? If it is self-evidentally true, then you already know it, but if it's not self-evidently true (as I would hold), then where is their proof, and why do they think the amount of sorrow we experience isn't excessive? As I see it, they miss the point and this causes them to lack sympathy for another's sorrow. They might as well tell a dieter that feeling hungry all the time will make him appreciate weight-loss.<br /><br />I've noticed that you and I are entirely different in our approach to sorrow. I'm forever diving into it, trying to discover what's behind it, and you're forever trying to take the view that everything works for the good (or at least that everything--or almost everything--can be made to work for the good). I agree with Schopenhauer that life can be compared to a kind of hell, and that it's in our best interest to secure a room that is as removed as possible from the flames, and to afterwards content ourselves with the knowledge that we have done the most that we can do. You won't be surprised to be told that I agree with Schopenhauer, but by expressing such sentiments, I worry that you might see me as an unwanted anchor to your sailing ship. Snowbrushhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/00436087215476479042noreply@blogger.com