Weekend Food: CTRA expression – sharing meals runs deep
Joy is always shared.
article here – https://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2013/07/130729161952.htm
Human cells respond in healthy, unhealthy ways to different kinds of happiness
Date: July 29, 2013 Source: University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill
Summary: Human bodies recognize at the molecular level that not all happiness is created equal, responding in ways that can help or hinder physical health, according to new research.
comment 1:
In the details of the article above are aspects that could help explain…a bit, depending on the different ways of influence and definitions used. (The same definitions or parameters on different people have different effects, and more in different contexts. Ie the ‘enjoying a good meal’ used in the article is maybe a poor example. Sharing a good meal with accompanying rituals means a thing vs. plopping open, say, a 100 euro Haut Sauterne at an elegant 3-star table, fois gras in the plate, with, say - if you’re a male heterosexual senior executive - a 10,000 ‘rose’ priced blonde for hire sitting across and smiling at you demurely, or not so, depending on tastes. Neither in each context is a simple or direct pleasure.
Likewise the impact of, say, harvesting grapes on the same hillside as your father and grandfather did will be experienced differently than for, say, that same senior executive or the same you at different ages. I wonder if place, rather the interaction of place – aesthetics, scent, sound – with perception, contributes importantly to individual CTRA expression. See the greek island where people forget to die:
related: The island Where people Forget to die: https://www.rd.com/article/island-people-forget-to-die/
(translated comment 2 from original below:) Joy is different than pleasure, however you might want to delineate the two words and what they describe - even if joy can bring you toward an encounter with pleasure. They wrap you up, those moments of encounter, the places and scents where boundaries melt and what you do confounds entirely in what is lost, in what you, the plural you, are (you are plural as in carrying many systems always expressing themselves. Joy is always shared both within and without, sometimes, likley,in ways well outside of awareness, I think.)
Sometimes with a physical person or more in a howling desire for someone or something else: a mountain, a child or a dog or the sea or a sweet ache. The places or moments of those encounters remain impressed, fixed - your breathing, the silence in a night, the branches under a streetlamp, the light sound of falling water from an unnamed creek. All those places become one. And remain and will remain. They aren’t part of time passing anymore, once lived: an expressed time of time itself.
Pleasure by contrast, left to itself, is a mere egoist. If doesn’t hesitate before distroying what joy might serve it. Indeed it needs those joys, feeds on them, an appetite that can’t be satiated. Its boundaries so fixed and hard and small need always more: more time and all contained within those temporal expressions. Pleasure. Eats time to the end of the song, so to speak. Lately it’s been eating a lot - To try to make certain that joy cannot express itself.
Because pleasure is inherently an emergent expression delineated by of carried fear, something so very afraid, pleasure, for itself - an opposite of expansion or connection. Joy… not really. It instead carries little fear if any, supports suffering if needed even the tiredness that comes with time, old wounds. Often it becomes timid, hesitates. But without fear. Well, maybe a little (some wounds dont heal quickly enough.) Its existence doesn’t consider time. Pleasure instead is so fragile, so brittle and without…. relavence, potentially. Yet it dominates the men who today control our planets resources. Pleasure. The urge toward it. Without joy. Even fearing it completely.
(Gioire. Non e il piacere, anche se la gioia può venire incontro al piacere. Ti avvolgono, quei momenti di incontro, i luoghi, gli odori, dove confini diventano liquidi e quello che fai confluisce interamente in quello che perdi, in quello che siete. Gia’, plurale. Gioia e sempre condiviso.
A volte con una persona fisica, o piu in un desiderio che urla, per un’altra persona, per una montagna, per un figlio o un cane o il mare o un dolce dolore. E i luoghi di quei incontro rimangono impresse, il respiro, il silenzio di una notte, i rami di un albero sotto una luce, la cascata di quel fiume senza nome. Tutti quei luoghi diventano uno solo. E rimangano, e rimane. Non fa parte del tempo che scorre, il tempo espresso, ma del tempo stesso.
Il piacere, lasciato a se stesso invece…e una mera egoista. Non esita di distruggere la gioia se gli serve. Anzi ne ha bisogno, il suo appetito, che non può essere saziato, i suoi limiti cosi solidi e confinati e magri, di prendere sempre più, e sempre piu tempo. Il piacere. Mangia il tempo fino alla fine della canzona. E in questo periodo mangia molto. Per togliere la possibilità che la gioia si potesse esprimere.
Gia’. Ha tanta paura, il piacere. Per se stesso. La gioia non tanto, pero a volte fa fatica, porta anche i mali, anche la stanchezza del tempo, le ferite, diventa timida. Esita. Ma non ha paura. Beh, forse un po. (A volte certe ferite…) Ma la sua e un esistenza che non bada al tempo. Il piacere invece e così fragile, o piu così senza rilevanza. E domina gli uomini che oggi controllano le risorse della terra. Il piacere. Senza gioia.)