(no subject)
So much to become...
It's about water, really. It's simple for the mind to comprehend at some level. It is the basis for some of our measurements, the very standard for density and temperature. The bonding patterns are some of the first that any molecular physicist studies because they are so very basic and we know how it reacts, (or more usually, doesn't react) to everything. It is, in some contexts, the essence of what is nothing.
But the Tao Te Ching says:
Nothing is weaker than water,
But when it attacks something hard,
Or resistant, then nothing withstands,
And nothing will alter the way.
It flows gently one minute and pounds in a raging torrent the next. It is so fine that it is impossible to grasp; it cannot be stabbed or struck or severed and it vanishes into a vapor when it gets too hot, but a vapor capable of splitting stone and earth. It becomes whatever it needs to be; pour it into a cup and it becomes the cup, as Bruce Lee would say. Water commits fully, conforms perfectly, yields perfectly. It reflects everything around it. It can hold the moon in its face without changing iself. Water stirred with mud cannot be made clear by force, but it becomes clean all on its own.
The words are a mix of Bruce's words flowing through my head as I was working things over and over and over tonight, trying to become rather than do. Maybe I succeded sometimes; mostly I didn't, but moments of brilliance are worth the ache of constant polishing.
I'm tired.
I should become sleep.
It's about water, really. It's simple for the mind to comprehend at some level. It is the basis for some of our measurements, the very standard for density and temperature. The bonding patterns are some of the first that any molecular physicist studies because they are so very basic and we know how it reacts, (or more usually, doesn't react) to everything. It is, in some contexts, the essence of what is nothing.
But the Tao Te Ching says:
Nothing is weaker than water,
But when it attacks something hard,
Or resistant, then nothing withstands,
And nothing will alter the way.
It flows gently one minute and pounds in a raging torrent the next. It is so fine that it is impossible to grasp; it cannot be stabbed or struck or severed and it vanishes into a vapor when it gets too hot, but a vapor capable of splitting stone and earth. It becomes whatever it needs to be; pour it into a cup and it becomes the cup, as Bruce Lee would say. Water commits fully, conforms perfectly, yields perfectly. It reflects everything around it. It can hold the moon in its face without changing iself. Water stirred with mud cannot be made clear by force, but it becomes clean all on its own.
The words are a mix of Bruce's words flowing through my head as I was working things over and over and over tonight, trying to become rather than do. Maybe I succeded sometimes; mostly I didn't, but moments of brilliance are worth the ache of constant polishing.
I'm tired.
I should become sleep.