Recognize the parts of self that are programmed machinery, recognize the parts that are luminous spirit, and see where they intersect.

To the trained mind, an incomprehensible tapestry becomes apparent—one that wastes no thread.

Those who don’t adapt tradition/ritual to existence’s demand for an ever-flowing harmony are destined to wither, for they deliberately disconnect themselves from the very essence that gives our symbolic surroundings a life of their own.

IMHO, editing must be approached with the same level of passion as drafting.  Editing springs from the same noble root as the drive to improve ourselves through unrelenting consistency.  

Again.  Again.  Again.  Until it’s right.  That describes the professional’s very way of being.

All the marvelous constructs of our world—down to our lifestyles themselves—are born from the collective pool of humanity’s imagination.  

Rather than bemoan the limits of these constructs, I say let’s create new ones that progressively reach the deepest truths, in ever-refining iterations.

I don’t subscribe to the blind aversion of all indulgences; I think that gives them a trapdoor with which to sneak in and take root.  

What i believe in is objectively recognizing/managing them, slowly weaning off them, until I can take ’em or leave ’em with a glancing smile.

Rich content flows ceaselessly through my surroundings.

The question is not if I can wrangle a story from it—there’s an exercise in futility—but whether or not I open myself to it.

This Earth/Our bodies/Society/Our circumstances…they could easily be seen as prisons, but I believe that they have deeper purpose.

I like to think of them more as a temporary classroom where we learn what we need to, and then move on.

I use to gravitate towards people I idolized, but once I got to know them better, was consistently disappointed.  I realized that was a childish approach; why look for an outer idol?

Everything I admire comes from within.  All it needs is that ancient discipline of refinement.

Negativity/sarcasm/snarkiness…I can laugh and appreciate all of them, but they have to be well-crafted; handmade, so to speak.  Because ANYTHING done in such a fashion, as harsh or terrible as it may be, was (IMHO) made with a certain kind of love.

I suspect that our lives’ twists and turns, as gut-wrenching as they may seem, may really not be that big a deal.  And perhaps the exhausting, weighty entirety of life is meant to hammer in that light and carefree axiom.

To me, that cosmically ironic premise has the ring of truth to it.