If you learn to pay sustained attention to your happiness, the pleasant sensation will loop on itself until it explodes and pulls you into a series of almost hallucinogenic states, ending in cessation, where your consciousness lets go and you disappear for a while. This takes practice. The practice is called jhanas, and it is sometimes described as the inverse of a panic attack.

He links to this detailed page by Nadia Asparouhova, How to do the jhanas, and there's good stuff in the Hacker News thread, including a sub-thread about attention in different languages, and a fascinating summary of the book The Disappearance of Rituals by Byung-Chul Han: "I think it's about structuring time and attention vertically on top of itself instead of horizontally across moments and subjects."

Karlsson tells the story of going to the symphony with his eyes closed, and in thirty minutes, his imagination popped out "what felt like two or three feature films." Yeah, that's what they call hyperphantasia. I'm not aphantasic, but my imagination rarely volunteers anything. It usually only contains what I do the work of putting there, and I'm wondering how common that is.

I also wonder if I'm "ajhanic", because supposedly the real point of the jhanas is not the bliss, but that that in going through the process, you learn to better manage your moment-to-moment mental health, and I've done that. I can pull out of bad thought loops, absorb boredom like a sponge, and I'm making progress on clumsiness. In many hours of practice and lots of experimentation, I've already done most of the exercises on those two pages, and I have not yet had a "wow" mental state without drugs.

On that subject, from a thread on the Stoner Thoughts subreddit:

We too once swore as kids we'd make it through the madness sober, but the truth is this modern age feels like it was designed to break that vow. The pressure, the noise, the endless scroll of insanity -- no wonder so many of us need a buffer just to breathe. But I've also learned: even when you lean on smoke or drink, you're not failing -- you're surviving. You're carrying the flame through an impossible age.

In 2000 the Oxford Junior Dictionary, aimed at seven-year-olds, dropped 'almonds', 'blackberry' and 'crocus' in favour of 'analogue', 'block graph' and 'celebrity'. The 2012 edition continued writing nature out of young minds, replacing 'acorn', 'buttercup' and 'conker' with 'attachment', 'blog' and 'chat room'. Instead of 'catkin', 'cauliflower', 'chestnut' and 'clover' they now have 'cut and paste', 'broadband' and 'analogue'. Heron, herring, kingfisher, lark, leopard, lobster, magpie, minnow, mussel, newt, otter, ox, oyster and panther have all been deleted.

This is a Tower of Babel moment. We are losing the ability to understand the real world, and each other, as our attention is consumed by kaleidoscopic navel-staring. I don't know how it's going to shake out, but I'm confident that the two most common predictions of the future are wrong: There will be no space colonies, and there will be no human extinction. We're going to keep muddling around on the earth for a very long time, and at some point, they'll think the internet was a myth, and they'll look at our remaining ruins and wonder about the mysterious people who made them.