9 Comments
User's avatar
Tim Miller's avatar

It's so hard not to try to flee suffering and discomfort.

Lucia Antonelli's avatar

This article is absolutely brilliant! I so get all this. I'm 78 and have finally realized that embracing life as it truly is the healer of what I thought was " broken self"!!! Surrender and acceptance is my path now..been liberating.

Me's avatar
Mar 21Edited

Jim Palmer, where have you been all my life? This is a brilliant essay. It rings with truth. “Life is suffering” is a Buddhist fundamental, not because we celebrate suffering, but because we celebrate life.

ShieldMaiden's avatar

Thank you.

Elisa's avatar

The Phantomat is the human woman’s womb from the point of view of the fetus/baby not knowing it’s going to be born, is it not?: “The Phantomat represents the fantasy of a world without resistance, a world perfectly calibrated to our desires, where nothing finally breaks, nothing irreversibly ends, and nothing demands courage because nothing can truly wound us.” The endless desire to be protected, nurtured, etc. And right now and for the last two years I’m doing a whole lotta protecting my peace, my space, my mind, my emotions by not grasping too much. I never thought I was anesthetizing myself, but it’s entirely possible that I am. Lots to process here. Thank you again, Mr. Palmer.

Reyhaana's avatar

Fascinating! I'll have to ponder on this for awhile. Thank you for that!

Poems for Liberation's avatar

Substack: we need a way to nominate certain work for annual recognition. This one, for instance. Not mere likes (hearts) but categorized significance like philosophy or social commentary or cultural criticism.

Edward Arnold's avatar

When you have a serious physical illness, that is not part of existential health.

Dizzying Speed of a Cup of Tea's avatar

Well, this was truly a striking and impressive piece — thank you for letting me read it. I think the key to climbing out of the Phantomat, as you write, is to genuinely accept that life — reality — sometimes comes with burdens, troubles, and uncertainty. But that is exactly what gives it its reality — its joys and sorrows, its flavor.

For many years I practiced as a yoga therapist. The basic principle of yoga therapy is that illness is a signal, not something to be defeated. You’re ill — okay. Then begin to practice this and that — you give the patient specific exercises. But, I would say, don’t practice in order to escape the illness. Practice sadhana — with joy, persistence, and regularity. And at some point, almost as a side effect of the process, you may notice that the illness disappears. Or it doesn’t — but you are still much healthier, by far.

You know, Jim, most people simply did not understand this. They were disillusioned with conventional medicine and came to an alternative guru who would “heal” them. Yet they still hoped to achieve that without much personal effort. Out of a hundred people, maybe one truly grasped what I was saying.

I must admit that I eventually concluded that instead of continuing my yoga therapy practice — which is in fact effective, internationally researched, and widely accepted, and which I believe could lead to existential health if the Phantomat did not paralyze people — I would shift to leading silent walks. At present, I consider an intimate connection with nature to be a good "tool" that can help us climb out of the soft unreality created by the Phantomat.

My question is: are you researching — or have you found — practices that can lead people out of the Phantomat trap and appear to be workable? I would be very interested in your opinion and experience, because these walks in nature still have a significant energy threshold: you have to get up, come out, and step into it. In other words, it begins with discomfort.