The Slough of Despond

Coffee, most people know the taste of coffee. I'd describe black, sugarless coffee as woody, acrid and slightly pungent, like the way the tongue curls from smell of a bog. The slough of despond, resulting from loneliness, weighed me down this morning. It's a familiar demon.


The solution: realize loneliness is ephemeral. Follow a discipline. Don't wallow in misery. Open up to others in compassion, love, sympathy and equanimity. And have a cup or two of black coffee, that helps. Slow right down. Get comfortable. Chose a book.

I grabbed Aristotle, Metaphysics, from the shelf, book Beta, various puzzles. It's not an easy book to take in at a glance. It's slow reading, requiring one to pause and reflect on what he's saying. Some people speculate the book was like a collection of lecture notes. It helps to have read other books dealing with issues Aristotle raised, such as particulars and universals, the nature of causation and change and whether or not there's an underlying substrata to existence.

After a few pages, put the book down and contemplate existence. Ok, I won't go on with boring chatter, which ends up in coming to the place of bewilderment, pondering the unknowable, being aware that there must be some point to existence, but never being able to say once and for all just what that might be.