I suppose I could, but I would be a little like a ship lost at sea. What I mean by that is ideals are like the North Star — they are a reference point by which one can navigate the world. At the same time, ideals are a construct of human consciousness — they don’t exist in the world. Trying to realize an ideal and make it manifest is folly to me, much as trying to pull the North Star down from the night sky.
In my experience, as I have gotten older my ideals mean less and less to me. This isn’t because I am world-weary or cynical, but because I find that idealism has less to offer me than other approaches do in living my life in a fulfilling way. Whereas ideals are exclusionary, absolute, and defined, the world I live in tends to be inclusive, ambiguous, and dynamically changing. That isn’t to say that ideals cannot be built around things like ambiguity, for they can, but they come at a cost.
When I look upon the world through the lens of my ideals, I’m not always sure if what I see is what “is,” or what I imagine and project onto the world. To receive the world as a gift, to dwell in wonder at its witness requires me to forget abstractions born of mind and to instead simply be in the moment, open and vulnerable and mindful, accepting that which the world presents to me.
My beloved is no ideal, which is to say, her person is altogether something beyond the limits of my mind. The experience of her is complex and when held beside that which my mind can create as ideal, my mind always ends up lacking, which is to say, my thoughts are simple and clever whereas the experience of her is majestic and subtle.
When I consider things in terms of ideal I have the sense I am blinding myself to that which can be witnessed. Sometimes there is pleasure in that, but I think it important for me to remember that ideals at best help guide me on my journey — they are not destinations in and of themselves.
So could I? Yes, I think so. The experience of being alive would be very different, I think. Hard to imagine really, but I guess that’s the point.
Namaste,
Ian
In my experience, as I have gotten older my ideals mean less and less to me. This isn’t because I am world-weary or cynical, but because I find that idealism has less to offer me than other approaches do in living my life in a fulfilling way. Whereas ideals are exclusionary, absolute, and defined, the world I live in tends to be inclusive, ambiguous, and dynamically changing. That isn’t to say that ideals cannot be built around things like ambiguity, for they can, but they come at a cost.
When I look upon the world through the lens of my ideals, I’m not always sure if what I see is what “is,” or what I imagine and project onto the world. To receive the world as a gift, to dwell in wonder at its witness requires me to forget abstractions born of mind and to instead simply be in the moment, open and vulnerable and mindful, accepting that which the world presents to me.
My beloved is no ideal, which is to say, her person is altogether something beyond the limits of my mind. The experience of her is complex and when held beside that which my mind can create as ideal, my mind always ends up lacking, which is to say, my thoughts are simple and clever whereas the experience of her is majestic and subtle.
When I consider things in terms of ideal I have the sense I am blinding myself to that which can be witnessed. Sometimes there is pleasure in that, but I think it important for me to remember that ideals at best help guide me on my journey — they are not destinations in and of themselves.
So could I? Yes, I think so. The experience of being alive would be very different, I think. Hard to imagine really, but I guess that’s the point.
Namaste,
Ian
