The Delicate Art of Virtue

December 31, 2009 16:43


This article’s been released a number of times in a number of forms over the course of the last 10 or so years. It started out being delivered from a very privy perspective to others that might have hoped to be equally well-informed. It was then edited to help the uninitiated gauge their respective depth, both philosophical and circumstantial. This version, hopefully the last, is a combination of both previous approaches. It’s not trying to convince the reader of anything nor does it aspire to be within everyone’s or anyone’s intellectual reach. It is however quite accurate, for whatever worth that may prove to be to you.

Love (luv) n.: to embrace those things that one realizes cannot be overcome.

What makes you human?  There’s a simple answer.  Nothing.  It’s your choice to cooperate with humanity’s progress.  The question then asserts; how do you know when you’ve exploited all that humanity is, or for that matter should be?

We all ponder what sociability is, contriving ideologies of religion, science, and philosophy to arrive at obscure conclusions.  We then either choose or are forced to accept that we amount to nothing discernable and should prefer an ambiguously infinite potential as opposed to the blinding prison that definitiveness always becomes.  Hence our nature is our only reference point and this too will always change.

Still the questions remain.  Are we as people, and/or as a species, intrinsic components in this earthly equation?  Do our extremes enliven our drive’s, encouraging that which we are absent from to inevitably become what we desire, yielding only for seemingly new yearnings and deeper delusions?   Further problems arise when humanity tries to consider itself both supreme planetary being and a needy sentience instilled with psychological nuances of individuality. In actuality individualism is a temporal farce that only occurs twice in a person’s lifetime. First exemplified by the proportionately mundane moment a person is defined as human ­– birth, and again when one can no longer change – death.  All the while the contemporary psychosis of individuality is best illuminated by mankind’s persistence in waging war, this vigilant pursuit of death and in turn circumstantial validation of the individual modus vivendi. Although ironically en mass.

Yet we engender this adversity to sustain our ego, the belief that our inception is the premise of our aspirations, hoping that we will be inferred as the exact incarnation of what we’ve imagined.  The simple fact of the matter is that we want to be both line and anchor, hoping that lust alone will make a pendulum swing.  Simultaneously hedging away from some equally simple truths.  Foremost we don’t know how long the rope is or how heavy the weight and consequently cannot honestly qualify or quantify our experiences, lending us to our transgressions as victims in circumstances that persist both irrationally and disproportionately.  Of somewhat less concern are those silent tenets that fuel us, motivating our perspective to imagine us becoming more than the sum of our most basic parts.  What was once youthful self-consciousness has been co-opted by the need to sustain an ego that is its own worst enemy.

Left to oneself a mind can regularly deduce sound rationale.  But when subjected to the determinations of other’s self-centeredness people are often more eager to excuse themselves from basic accountabilities.  But to wage war and war-like conflicts one tends to relinquish their identity as a penance for their shame, as helpless subjects of derelict and unchecked sensibilities, of an enabling populace, of a weak and thoughtless body with trivial denominators of politic, of a mob.

Realize that these are social traits and their origins consider their fruition with contempt.  Humanity is the burden that encourages a rope to become something other than a simple tether. It consists of people that are notoriously envious of destinations that are believed to be desirable yet beyond their will.  All the while taking for granted that this pendulum is in the custody of a line that can disregard it’s burden, abiding by its own unknowable rules at any moment.  You see it’s not life itself that makes us human, to believe that would be to presume that we are both responsible and solely privy to its genesis.  Humanity is a conundrum in and of itself, one that at any moment can be the island that is more at peace as an ocean than as a barrier to a peaceful ocean’s being.

Collectively we struggle with co-existing in all the space that is encountered, and when it’s thought that we’ve exhausted new ground hubris leads thought into action toward petty resolutions.  Accepting wrong ends that are easily achieved as necessary solutions for highly conscientious conditions.   Protesting with the belief that both line and anchor have changed to suite the insipidity of human desires.  Only because the weight began to believe it knew how long the rope was, and more foolishly how much space had been consumed in a single traverse.

Hope alone will not keep this anchor secure. Want alone will not bar a tether from relinquishing this burden as it reaches the zenith of its first swing.  Fear alone will not keep a simple strand from preferring a more sound parcel on another pass.

But clearly our ignorance will also manifest in extreme modes if not only in an attempt to dissuade love from realizing it can be more significant than lust.