A monk in a monastery, with one true appetite, learning the point of pointlessness

24 Jun

Pinterest offers many things. Mindless browsing. A bath in the sparkly sea of consumerism. What does the social platform not offer? Credible life advice.

Pour example: You log into Pinterest feeling sad, lonely and hideous. As you browse life advice and motivational quotes, looking for consolation and ways to lead a more fulfilling life, Pinterest wraps its arms around you:

A funny GIf of a lion placing his arms around someone outside his cage, seeming to pull him into a hug. Over the image, text saying What? Listen to me. You are flawless. Flawless.

The effect of Pinterest’s inspirational quotes on pinners with low self-esteem.

In the site’s swamp of pedantic platitudes cleverly camouflaged as warm, comforting, life advice, your spirits may begin to lift. But, make no mistake: within these nice sayings in pretty fonts you are not discovering the key to a happier, healthier you. You are reading a series of letters, for some reason saved as an image, that bear no meaning in real life.

Take a deep breath:

A pin of ten tips for the mindful home. These include, sit: mindfullness without meditation is just a word. Make your bed: the state of your bed is the state of your head. Enfold your day in dignity. Empty the hampers: do the laundry without resentment or commentary and have an intimate necounter with the very fabric of life. Wash your bowl: rinse away self importance and clean your own mess. If you leave it undone, it will get sticky. Set a timer: set a kitchen timer and, like a monk in a monestary, devote yourself whole heartedly to the task at hand until the bell rings. Rake the leaves: rake, weed, or sweep. You'll never finish for good, but you'll learn the point of pointlessness. Eat when hungry: align your inexhaustible desires with the one true appetite. Let the darkness come: Set a curfew on the internet and TV and discover the natural balance between dayligth and darkness, work and rest. Sleep when tired: nothing more to it. By Karen Maezen Miller.

Karen, Karen, Karen.

How can someone who spits out advice about turning off the TV at night–a good idea–also spew about “the one true appetite”. What is that?

As commenters Nicole Antoinette and Renee note, this is some Stepford bullshit. “Sleep when tired: nothing more to it” – is there indeed nothing more to life than keeping a clean, pretty house and a clean, pretty you? A spotless home doesn’t make a spotless soul, and deep immersion in your daily chores does not mean that you are more deeply immersed in life.

Here’s the truth: The state of your bed is not, in fact, the state of your head. Your material possessions only reflect your character and thoughts on the most superficial, banal level. Does someone who’s been in your house for a few minutes know the entire story of  your life, the quagmire of shifting thoughts and feelings just behind your glassy stare? No, they don’t.

“Empty the hampers. Do the laundry without resentment or commentary and have an intimate encounter with the very fabric of life.” Excuse me? I think I just had an intimate encounter with bullshit.

BRB, showering in the fountain of mindfullness to remove the stench.

2 Responses to “A monk in a monastery, with one true appetite, learning the point of pointlessness”

  1. Kitty Cropper June 25, 2012 at 4:38 pm #

    These things make me wanna puke. I love Pinterest, but I hate this kind of crap. Love your site!

  2. Sherie September 11, 2012 at 9:04 pm #

    Wow, you are right, that was the most BS laden list I have ever read…seems to me she is going to need some serious therapy soon. Your thoughts were really funny and I agree!!

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