I'm probably going to blog about the new state of my life soon, but for now I'm going to publish a journaling I made in February of 2008:
Driving through the Saguaro Cacti of Northern Arizona, I'm reminded of a Japanese tradition of spending time, concentration, and energy in search of the perfect lotus blossom. It seems to me that this discipline/exercise intends to engage the searcher in seeing. To me the final accomplishment is not finding the perfect lotus blossom or the viewing of a Saguaro which is arranged "just right", but instead the realization that in it's existence as a blossom, as a Saguaro--
it is good.
"The perfect Saguaro of the the West" would sadden the aesthetic of the mountains. Seen out of two-dimensional format it would seem silly.
Does this tie in with human identity? Are we not getting what we should out of our search for the ideal?
