do you know that feeling when you’re reading something and all of a sudden it becomes absolutely and undeniably clear that you’re reading one of the most beautiful books you’ll ever read in a lifetime?
Those who love you are not fooled by mistakes you have made or dark images you hold about yourself. They remember your beauty when you feel ugly; your wholeness when you are broken; your innocence when you feel guilty; and your purpose when you are confused.
You have to cultivate an attitude to life where you’re not trying to get anything out of it. You pick up a pebble on the beach, look at it. It’s beautiful. Don’t try and get a sermon out of it. Sermons in stones and God in everything, be damned. Just enjoy it. Don’t feel that you’ve got to salve your conscience by saying that this is for the advancement of your aesthetic understanding. Enjoy the pebble. If you do that, you become healthy.
“When I first learned the piano and played those wretched scales, the teacher beside me had a pencil in her hand and she hit my fingers every time I played a wrong note. [Consequently] I never learned to read music because I hesitated too long to play the note on time. Because I was always [thinking] ‘Is this pencil gonna land?’ See? And that gets built into your psyche. So, people are always—although they’re adults and nobody is screaming at them any longer—they hear the echoes of that screaming momma or that bombinating poppa in the back of their heads all their life long. And so they adopt the same attitude to their own children and the farce continues.”
Paradoxical as it may seem, the purposeful life has no content, no point. It hurries on and on, and misses everything. Not hurrying, the purposeless life misses nothing, for it is only when there is no goal and no rush that the human senses are fully open to receive the world.