I am listening to a contemplation lecture, which includes long periods of silence so I can write—perfect for a writer. The talk is wonderfully deep and I am having insights and writing intuitively, almost without awareness of my fingers flying across the keyboard. Everything is in sync.
Suddenly I manufacture for myself a context in which I can feel angry, give myself over to irrational anger directed at no one in particular.
It’s as if I can’t handle all the happiness and need to slow it down by manufacturing a bad moment. FOTMH: Fear of too much happiness.
