I am not who you think I am; I am not who I think I am; I am who I think you think I am. Charls Horton cooley What is it about thoughts, feelings, and emotions that make us in constant war within ourselves? Even if you want to make sense out of them you need to use one of them, and that, and that by itself creates more confusion tnan ever before you start to decipher the complex web of the inner SELF. How can you make sense out of something that doesn't make sense? Even more, how do you make sense? Well, the way I see it is, if for some strange reason (only you can comprehend), anything you perceive does makes sense to you it doesn't necessarily have tome sense to anyone else . The relationship between thoughts, emotions, and feelings is complex and interconnected, with each influencing the others in various ways. Here’s a brief overview of how they interact and which might control which: 1. **Thoughts**: These are the cognitive processes that involve reasoning, ...
Chapter 25
On Beauty
AND a poet said, Speak to us of Beauty. And he answered: Where shall you seek beauty, and how shall you find her unless she herself be your way and your guide? And how shall you speak of her except she be the weaver of your speech? The aggrieved and the injured say, “Beauty is kind and gentle. “Like a young mother half-shy of her own glory she walks among us.” And the passionate say, “Nay, beauty is a thing of might and dread. “Like the tempest she shakes the earth beneath us and the sky above us.” The tired and the weary say, “Beauty is of soft whisperings. “She speaks in our spirit. “Her voice yields to our silences like a faint light that quivers in fear of the shadow.” But the restless say, “We have heard her shouting among the mountains, “And with her cries came the sound of hoofs, and the beating of wings and the roaring of lions.” At night the watchmen of the city say, “Beauty shall rise with the dawn from the east.” And at noontide the toilers and the wayfarers say, “We have seen her leaning over the earth from the windows of the sunset.” In winter say the snow-bound, “She shall come with the spring leaping upon the hills.”
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And in the summer heat the reapers say, “We have seen her dancing with the autumn leaves, and we saw a drift of snow in her hair.” All these things have you said of beauty, Yet in truth you spoke not of her but of needs unsatisfied, And beauty is not a need but an ecstasy. It is not a mouth thirsting nor an empty hand stretched forth, But rather a heart inflamed and a soul enchanted. It is not the image you would see nor the song you would hear, But rather an image you see though you close your eyes and a song you hear though you shut your ears. It is not the sap within the furrowed bark, nor a wing attached to a claw, But rather a garden for ever in bloom and a flock of angels for ever in flight. People of Orphalese, beauty is life when life unveils her holy face. But you are life and you are the veil. Beauty is eternity gazing at itself in a mirror. But you are eternity and you are the mirror.