Moss-covered Monk

Moss-covered Monk

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Monday, January 21, 2013

Daily Musing - January 21st, 2013 - Attraction - 引力 - Yǐnlì

Attraction - 引力 - Yǐnlì

The ordinary animal knows beauty,
but we humans claim preeminence-
how so?
The peacock's iridescence
caught in a flash of brilliance 
through the verdant canopy.
Shadows play tricks,
casting darkness over the light
of lotus blooms and weeping willows.
The world's beauty encompassed
in a vortex of swirling color-
look within the petals,
all you see is bright stillness.
Not less alive,
but more.

~inspired by Deng Ming-Dao

 This world is movement. Nature is constant change, infinite variation. Without infinite variation, we would be left with stasis. We would have reached the limits. But all limits are arbitrary constructions of human thinking. Life if an endless equation running behind the scenes, full of darkness, brilliance, color, shadows, sound, fragrance, and sensation. We are plugged into an segment of the calculation, but we are blind to the area beyond our current set of parameters.

Birds attract their mate through plumage. Flowers attract pollinators through color and fragrance. Beauty can be moved to madness, as the pursuit of greater beauty is met with futility, lost in the seductive dance that is played upon our mind. These beauty-mad people hover around like a bee circling a flower, drunk on the thrill of colorful intoxicants. The nose is caught by the tendrils of haunting perfume, moving the heart to act, to touch, to fill shallow existence with the fullness of physical joy. Yet, this will not cure a maligned soul, albeit temporarily.

The center of the flower is perfect stillness. When the dance is done, we are often left wondering what next? In life, attraction is endless. We should do no more than we need to satisfy ourselves. To plunge further is to tempt Fate, defying danger. This is foolhardy. Lingering outside our soul, there is shimmering beauty and fantastic movement. It is only at the center of the soul can one see the swirling storm, from the hurricane's eye. This still-point of existence is the closest we can come to true objectivity. All around, one sees brightness, condensed energy, unbearably strong and all-powerful, and yet, absorbed in supreme singularity. True expression is encompassed within perfect silence.