Heaven is pleasure, and nothing but pleasure
There are dreamscapes that I sometimes refer to as “Arcadian spaces” and other times as “Heaven,” even though I do not believe in a religious heaven. These experiences are nevertheless so powerful that I think about them obsessively and I write about them often. I think about predilections and interests that I have which could lead to a hell or which could lead to a heaven. This is a rubric that eliminates much distracting thought. There are ideas that I have which might be perfectly justified, but which do not service a heaven.
A heaven is a pole of attraction. There is something going on that attracts attention. Participants work together harmoniously to keep that thing going.
The most beautiful and most awesome kind of heaven is a choir that sings a single note forever, a single note that resonates with every creative and symbiotic force in universe. It is thunderous, it vibrates, it resonates, it shudders. It is the orgasm of a thousand angels. It is the most beautiful, awe-inspiring event you can imagine. But it is that one thing and nothing else.
A heaven is not a place of freedom. It can’t be the case that everyone may do anything, because anything includes bad things. The more beautiful a heaven is, the fewer things that can be done there. I don’t mean that there is a police force. It’s simply the case that if you start doing something that is not part of a given heaven, you lose sight of it. By tuning into some incompatible thing, you tune out of heaven.
We are here because we find Heaven too monotonic. We are in a region of reality where there is diversity, intrigue, threats, and consequences. By way of illustration: we don’t watch movies about people eating ice cream or getting petted. That’s boring. We watch movies about people facing threats and peril. That is where our attention naturally gravitates.
Most people are here for the spanking. They prefer pain because they are the kind of people who manage pain more naturally than pleasure. No one is criticized for having too much pain. In our world, however, too much pleasure is a sign of moral weakness.
It is possible for people like me to stumble into a heaven. But it is hard for them to stay.
Remember, Heaven is pleasure, and nothing but pleasure. Once you have experienced it, and you realise that you’ve stopped, you know what you are.
And now a word from our sponsor:
One of the diarists of The Salt Island Diaries dreams of Heaven. At the same time, she observes that 19th century New England is anything but a heaven. Yet she sees a parallel between the women she observes in Heaven and the women in her home. There is a question of coherency. One has coherent goals and one is an artifact of the 19th century.
One cannot hope to inherit a coherent set of goals from civilisation, because these are administrated by other people for various (and sometimes conflicting) purposes. On must choose her own goals and work with people who share them. The diarist realises that Heaven is not a place, but holiness of attention — this may be practiced anywhere.