Perceiving

You can see your life through your own lens.

You can see without thinking, understand with the words that you’re given. I try to avoid that, and rather to see in such a way that things appear beautiful, because I live with a conviction that they are.

You can see without hewing to the lines that limit and quantize unthinking sight. In place of bothersome dirt I see beautiful entropy and intricate decay. Instead of objects I see shapes in a fabric of visual nuance that transcends division – everywhere is the same shadow, the same dust.

In this perception of “realness” I find fulfillment that I needn’t then seek in complexity. I find feelings more dear to me than I do in luxury or prestige.

Love people for being faulty and pure. Love relationships not for being what you wish they were but for what they are. Look out from a tall building and see the chaotic muted city, and the drab and wintry brown horizon, divorced by dim light from the fiction of the present. And imagine yourself everywhere.

Find places with your feet, see them through your eyes, think, and understand, and bring yourself into them with the creations of a hand. Perception may be limited, but if I can find out what is basic to my life, I am as free as I could ever hope to be.

I am sometimes cursed but more often blessed to desire nothing so much as truth. It has led me to love reality and the universal and simplicity. And these lead me back to mostly normal things, but with love and moderation.

Before I step into the shower every morning I have a little tussle with myself. I can either take a long and comfortable one, or seek my comforts elsewhere and save water. Being groggy, I tend to find the first prospect persuasive. But when I have some mastery of my will I look around at the tiles and the window and find a warmth in their textures that makes the need for water heaters less pressing.

It is enough to see beauty in reality and smile and chat and go to the post office to mail a letter and to sleep when your work is done. It is enough to go to the window before you lie down and see the buildings’ lights in the murky darkness and give yourself a word or two to let the reality find your heart. It is enough to explode at the view from a mountaintop, and be moved by sunset silhouettes and hues. I hope to go through life with little more.

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