Lightly, My Darling
By: Aldous Huxley
It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them. I was so preposterously serious in those days, such a humorless little prig. Lightly, lightly – it’s the best advice ever given me. When it comes to dying even. Nothing ponderous, or portentous, or emphatic. No rhetoric, no tremolos, no self conscious persona putting on its celebrated imitation of Christ or Little Nell. And of course, no theology, no metaphysics. Just the fact of dying and the fact of the clear light. So throw away your baggage and go forward. There are quicksands all about you, sucking at your feet, trying to suck you down into fear and self-pity and despair. That’s why you must walk so lightly. Lightly my darling, on tiptoes and no luggage, not even a sponge bag, completely unencumbered.
You can find this passage in Huxley’s great book — Island
Absolutely lovely.
81, with its physical aches and pains, waking up each morning wondering why I’m still here? Still hoping a miracle will cause my body to feel better, or the death angel will take me home, or somewhere new, to spare me what no beloved old, suffering pet has to endure. Living alone, a monk, all but a few months since late 2000, engulfed in metaphysics day and night, in all the way but not of this world, what woman could endure that regimen with no end? Lightly, what is that? Remember, I cannot. Perhaps it’s possible? I haven’t a clue. Is romance possible? Will viagra work? I haven’t a clue. Do I even want to try? I really don’t know. Back in the day, I would be all in.
Thank you. This is an interesting one. On one hand, it feels like a healthy dose of stoicism. On the other, it reminds me of Brave New World (also by Huxley) and the nihilistic sense of detachment that was present there... Soma. You'll know what I mean if you've read it!