Breathing the depth of the starry night is stimulus enough to feel ataraxia . The whirlpool of movement and change in which my thoughts about the apeiron take shape in flowing words and metaphors detains when it encounters its silence. The concept is in Epicurus: mental imperturbability, a general desire for strifeless existence, a deep longing for a permanent homeostasis. I find particularly interesting the poetic and active dimensions of ataraxia , for the passive ones are also produce by morphine, or by any random process which ends up in a discharge of internal opiates, a mere blind experience in which there is not a symbolic creation which pushes life towards new frontiers. In its endless negantropic fight, life looks for equilibria. To stop mental perturbation is to detain its energy demands: existence’s unceasing fire is temporally mitigated and we feel endorphinic peace. Such a negative liberation- mistaken by a road to immortality - if pursue...
On the symbolic constructions of human identity.