Beauty is a strange appeal. There are so many layers. Power and freedom can never be safe. They are dangerous in the same ways fire and electricity are. Every experience of any kind will leave some if not many subtleties unexpressed. No one’s mouth is big enough to utter it completely, and ironically the fool who persists in his folly, examining nothing, will eventually become wise. Bear witness to what I’m learning the Chinese call: Li and Te.
To have a sense of the organic pattern (Li) between and in us all, endowing me, for example, with (Te) a magical virtue, the miraculous moment we feel the stars in the universe are no different than our own ability to be conscious.
Power and freedom can never be safe. The configuration of my nervous system, like the configuration of the stars, happens of itself, and this ‘it’ is undeniably me. But without ego or justification, this magical virtue (Te) brings the pleasant awareness that things only exist in the abstract world of thought, such as terms and conversation, and even when expressed will inevitably be incomplete.
Beauty is a strange appeal. There are so many layers and we will never bloom at the same time.
“In the landscape of spring, there is neither better nor worse; the flowering branches grow naturally, some long and some short.”
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