Whale, wheel, whatever. Bliss is all that ever matters.
A mind is a wheel that never loses its circular balance, it only pauses. At least that’s how it’s supposed to behave. We should protect our minds so that it doesn’t lose its hold on the track of living and eventually break irrevocably. Its functionality wasn’t meant to be depleted. It’s made to serve you meaning, with it occasionally being bruised and severely torn by friction.
However, getting bruised is inevitable, as you let it move. The only day the wheel is allowed to be sent to the car garage for recycling is when you lose the wrenchingly predicted battle to supposed eternity. Even with dust in the making, your wheel is still useful. Having it recycled reminds other wheels to continue to work well with what your wheel has been providing, with more to come.
It’s blissful to let the wheel go, in both ways. Let the wheel go on its own direction and let it be recycled. Being able to think is a bliss, and let having others flourish in the knowledge you once lived in be a bliss too.