Happiness is a warm post
> mnml asked a good question recently. I remember a time when > a balloon made me happy as a child, but I don't remember > why it made me happy. Nor do I remember what the feeling > was like to be happy with a balloon. That's kinda sad to be > honest. This is one of the sucky things about growing up.
It was simply cookie-cutter “ignorance is bliss” – i.e. ignorance of models (see also: words, thoughts).
You knew neither “what it is” (i.e. the balloon) nor “who/what you are” (maybe not absolutely zero, but lesser than now) – and so of course it was blissfully miraculous.
And you've since slowly traded the bliss of simply being for “knowing what it is”, i.e. endless models of “you” and (all manner of) “not you”.
QUICK QUESTION: Is a magic trick any fun when you know how it's done?
So... so-called “born again” (the “being as a little child” state) is simply the absence of the opacity of the modeling layer covering <can't be said without losing it again>.
Strange as it may seem, being happy requires not knowing what happiness “is”.... <cough>