Category Archives: Thoughts and Quotes

Symbiosis of Perfection and Beauty

I wonder what it is, sometimes, to have beauty. Is it perfect physicality or perfection of mind, or both. Perhaps it is the unifying of both ends to make a stronger strand of human. That brilliant two-ply line that quivers and shakes but does not break when pulled. Wrapping it around your finger you can tie it in a knot in an attempt to keep it secure, but the process of time only causes it to tighten to the point of painful suffocation. The finger dead, you must cut it off, losing more than what you originally had.
Sometimes I try too hard for perfection and forget the benefits of an imperfect reality. Room to improve, hopes of betterment, and a mutual camaraderie with my fellow man. Perhaps perfection is a symbiotic relationship rather than a state of being. We can not actually be perfect without each other, without God or Christ, or depending on your world view, simply a being greater and more pure than oneself. What ounce of chance do we have even dreaming of aspiring to this position of spiritual liberation on our own. After all, one must have a liberator to be liberated. You see, perfection has a comparative quality, its candor often overlooked by way of the prideful self-serving mind. Naively we believe perfection is a state we can achieve through trial and error, eternal life, or death. All of these self manifestations, all of these venues for achievement, inherently wrong. Off putting, perhaps, but truthfully, perfection is only attained through another perfect being. Seeing as we never start there, we can not EVER achieve it alone.

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Shakespeare’s Sonnet: Beauty Advise

When forty winters shall besiege thy brow

And dig deep trenches in thy beauty’s field,

Thy youth’s proud livery, so gazed on now,

Will be tattered weed, of small worth held.

Then, being asked where all thy beauty lies,

Where all the treasure of thy lusty days,

To say within thine own deep-sunken eyes

Were an all-eating shame and thriftless praise.

How much more praise deserved thy beauty’s use

If thou couldst answer, “This fair child of mine

Shall sum my count and make my old excuse,”

Proving his beauty by succession thine.

This were to be new made when thou art old,

And see thy blood warm when thou feel’st it cold.

A Thought on Love

The the reality of love is more felt than understood. Less aware than we should be, we often miss it entirely, considering it a moment of misery and sorrow, of turmoil and pain. We think it is not what it is and is what it is not. We do not realize we encounter it it when we do. We believe it when we sense it’s sensuous breeze, soft in moonlight, dripping with honey; sweet to taste and pleasant to feel. We believe it’s half truth, but we rarely believe it’s existence in the darkness of life, the cold imprisoning walls so often associated with the wholeness of the thing. And there it is, you realize. That is the thing. It is not just the emotions, but something greater, something beyond. Is the processing, of all emotions, of all situations and concluding and conducting our reactions to its twin.  Flipping the heart when we do not believe it can be, when the world tells us we must hate, we must revenge, we must eliminate; when instead we must forgive, we must have mercy, and we must suffer.  Love is the thing that colors in the rest of the picture, that fixes our eyes to see what is really in front of us. A tortured man, an unloved woman, a forgotten child.  To understand that good is often manipulated, and to hate those who have been manipulated is to be so manipulated yourself. Love is not just an emotion, it is not just a thought, not just a word. It is too great a thing to encompass by way of an isolated category. It is above and beyond. It is kinetic.  It is the closest sense of being to perfection.

The Joy Paradox

“What is it about tears that should be so terrifying? I asked them again and again, and each time got the impression that tears to them were a sign of softness, of weakness and childishness in a harsh world where only the tough survive.

Yet I knew …how important a role tears play in the making a man whole. I think I could almost put it down as a rule that the touch of God is marked by tears. When finally we let the Holy Spirit into our innermost sanctuary, the reaction is to cry. I have seen it happen again and again. Deep soul-shaking tears, weeping rather than crying. It comes when the last barrier is down and you surrender yourself to health and wholeness.

And when it does come, it ushers forth such a new personality that, from the days of Christ on, the experience has been spoken of as a birth. “You must be born again,’ says Jesus. And the Paradox is that at the heart of this newborn personality is joy; yet the joy is ushered in by tears.”

-David Wilkerson, “The Cross and the Switchblade”

30 Days of Alchemy

11.  “Because I don’t live in either my past or my future. I’m interested only in the present. If you can concentrate always on the present, you’ll be a happy man. You’ll see that there is life in the desert, that there are stars in the heavens, and that tribesmen fight because they are part of the human race. Life will  be a party for you, a grand festival, because life is the moment we’re living right now.”

-Paulo Coelho, “The Alchemist”

30 Days of Alchemy

10.   “One day, the earth began to tremble, and the Nile overflowed its banks. It was something that I thought could happen only to others, never to me. . . The land was ruined, and I had to find some other way to earn a living. So now I’m a camel driver. But that disaster taught me to understand the world of Allah: people need not fear the unknown if they are capable of achieving what they need  and want.

We are afraid of losing what we have, whether it’s our life or our possessions and property. But this fear evaporates when we understand that our life stories and the history of the world were written by the same hand.”

-Paulo Coelho, “The Alchemist”

30 Days of Alchemy

9.  “I’ve crossed these sands many times, ” said one of the camel drivers one night.  “But the desert is so huge, and the horizons so distant, that  they make a person feel small, and as if he should remain silent.”

. . .

But he was excited at his intuitive understanding of the camel driver’s comment: maybe he was also learning the universal language that deals with the past and the present of all people. “Hunches,” his mother used to call them. The boy was beginning to understand that intuition is really a sudden immersion of the soul into the universal current of life, where the histories of all people are connected, and we are able to know everything, because it’s all written there.

“Maktub,” the boy said, remembering the crystal merchant.

-Paulo Coelho, “The Alchemist”