May 1
Whoever does not rein in the senses is reined in by them. Desire, once satisfied, is not sated — it grows with its food as fire grows with oil.
The Three Hundred Verses (freely rendered)
Listening mode
Whoever does not rein in the senses is reined in by them. Desire, once satisfied, is not sated — it grows with its food as fire grows with oil.
When you've swapped a noisy flat for a quiet one, it often takes only a few weeks before you notice a new sound. A fridge that kicks in at night. Footsteps overhead that would once have been lost in the traffic. The quiet hasn't made you more content, only more sharp-eared.
A wish fulfilled doesn't simply disappear. It shifts the standard by which you measure whatever comes next. What was a goal yesterday is today's starting point. And you haven't necessarily wanted more. You've learned to make finer distinctions, and with every finer distinction you may also notice a finer lack.
It gets difficult because the same sensitivity also gives you something. Early in the morning you hear a single blackbird that would have escaped you in the old flat, and it makes you glad. Whether you're enjoying something or already comparing again is hard to tell apart from the inside. Often both happen with the same ear.
Sometimes you lie awake at night waiting for the fridge to kick in.
