Judul buku yang dari awal sudah menggunakan kata yang vulgar, demikian juga isi dipenuhi kata tersebut dan juga kisah hidup penulisnya Mark Manson yang kalau kita baca bukunya maka akan jelas dan sang penulis juga menjabarkan kisah hidupnya yang juga sekitaran kata tersebut juga.

Tapi isi buku ini bukan berkisar di kata tersebut, Subtle Art kalau diartikan menjadi Seni Halus , Not Giving a Fuck = Tidak Peduli (cuek/ bodo amat). Jadi buku ini sesuai judulnya berarti adalah seni halus untuk bersikap cuek/bodo amat tentang sesuatu.

Buku ini adalah buku motivasi , isinya kira-kira adalah dimana hidup kita di dunia ini jangan terbebani dengan semua image sukses dan pandangan orang lain terhadap kita, sehingga kita terlalu memberikan banyak perhatian (giving a f*ck) terhadap semua itu yang mana hal tersebut adalah tidak penting (bukan value yang baik). Selanjutnya kita justru harus memberikan prioritas (giving a f*ck) ke value yang lain yang lebih penting. Kira-kira seperti itu isi bukunya.

Kutipan menarik yang ada di buku ini diantaranya sebagai berikut :

The key to a good life is not giving a fuck about more; it’s giving a fuck about less, giving a fuck about only what is true and immediate and important

Subtle art to not giving a fuck is essentially learning how to focus and prioritize your thoughts effectively – how to pick and choose what matters to you and what does not matter to you based on finely honed personal values. This is incredibly difficult

Story of Buddha

About twenty-five hundred years ago, in the Himalayan foothills of
present-day Nepal, there lived in a great palace a king who was going
to have a son. For this son the king had a particularly grand idea: he
would make the child’s life perfect. The child would never know a
moment of suffering—every need, every desire, would be accounted for
at all times.
The king built high walls around the palace that prevented the
prince from knowing the outside world. He spoiled the child,
lavishing him with food and gifts, surrounding him with servants who
catered to his every whim. And just as planned, the child grew up
ignorant of the routine cruelties of human existence.
All of the prince’s childhood went on like this. But despite the
endless luxury and opulence, the prince became kind of a pissed-off
young man. Soon, every experience felt empty and valueless. The
problem was that no matter what his father gave him, it never seemed
enough, never meant anything.
So late one night, the prince snuck out of the palace to see what
was beyond its walls. He had a servant drive him through the local
village, and what he saw horrified him.
For the first time in his life, the prince saw human suffering. He
saw sick people, old people, homeless people, people in pain, even
people dying.
The prince returned to the palace and found himself in a sort of
existential crisis. Not knowing how to process what he’d seen, he got
all emo about everything and complained a lot. And, as is so typical
of young men, the prince ended up blaming his father for the very
things his father had tried to do for him. It was the riches, the prince
thought, that had made him so miserable, that had made life seem so
meaningless. He decided to run away.
But the prince was more like his father than he knew. He had
grand ideas too. He wouldn’t just run away; he would give up his
royalty, his family, and all of his possessions and live in the streets,
sleeping in dirt like an animal. There he would starve himself, torture
himself, and beg for scraps of food from strangers for the rest of his life.
The next night, the prince snuck out of the palace again, this time
never to return. For years he lived as a bum, a discarded and forgotten
remnant of society, the dog shit caked to the bottom of the social
totem pole. And as planned, the prince suffered greatly. He suffered
through disease, hunger, pain, loneliness, and decay. He confronted
the brink of death itself, often limited to eating a single nut each day.
A few years went by. Then a few more. And then . . . nothing
happened. The prince began to notice that this life of suffering wasn’t
all that it was cracked up to be. It wasn’t bringing him the insight he
had desired. It wasn’t revealing any deeper mystery of the world or its
ultimate purpose.
In fact, the prince came to know what the rest of us have always
kind of known: that suffering totally sucks. And it’s not necessarily
that meaningful either. As with being rich, there is no value in
suffering when it’s done without purpose. And soon the prince came
to the conclusion that his grand idea, like his father’s, was in fact a
fucking terrible idea and he should probably go do something else
instead.
Totally confused, the prince cleaned himself up and went and
found a big tree near a river. He decided that he would sit under that
tree and not get up until he came up with another grand idea.
As the legend goes, the confused prince sat under that tree for
forty-nine days. We won’t delve into the biological viability of sitting
in the same spot for forty-nine days, but let’s just say that in that time
the prince came to a number of profound realizations.
One of those realizations was this: that life itself is a form of
suffering. The rich suffer because of their riches. The poor suffer
because of their poverty. People without a family suffer because they
have no family. People with a family suffer because of their family.
People who pursue worldly pleasures suffer because of their worldly
pleasures. People who abstain from worldly pleasures suffer because of
their abstention.
This isn’t to say that all suffering is equal. Some suffering is
certainly more painful than other suffering. But we all must suffer
nonetheless.
Years later, the prince would build his own philosophy and share
it with the world, and this would be its first and central tenet: that
pain and loss are inevitable and we should let go of trying to resist
them. The prince would later become known as the Buddha. And in
case you haven’t heard of him, he was kind of a big deal.

Problems never stops; they merely get exchanged and/or upgraded. Happiness comes from solving problems

The person you marry is the person you flight with. The house you buy is the house you repair. The dream job you take is the job you stress over

If you want to change how you see your problems, you have to change what you value and/or how you measure failure/success.

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