Thoughts, Reflections and Stories.

One must have chaos in oneself to give birth to a dancing star...
Massoud Abbasi

Incompleteness

Somewhere before the midway of life’s journey, I came upon a juncture, I came before an impasse, and I was faced with a conundrum: why am I incomplete? Why are we incomplete, we humans?

Standing before a dark flurry of trees and bushes, at the entrance of a great and grand forest, I stood, face flurried with emotion, body, wilted by the occurrences and experiences of life.

My limbs felt loose, the feeling one gets when faced with making a decision whose outcome could be of dramatic consequences, my hands sweaty as though a grape on the vine in the early spring, bearing the dew of the sky and the earth, before it dries and ripens, my heart aflutter like a butterfly whose time has come, my mind, racing like ten thousand army ants amassing their fortress when the foggy season has passed and lucidity has returned to their innate understanding.

These are pivotal moments we all face, hopefully with the faith that they be but a passage through yet another wormhole of life, another projection of our ‘self’ onto our plane of life, onto the plane of those we share this world with.

I stood before this long and deep forest, looking end to end, left, then right, with nothing but greenery and lush, convoluted foliage around as far as my eyes could see. I turned back, with a sense of anxiety, for I knew I would be facing what has for so long been my abode, but also the blade on which my soul has on many occasions been cut, my heart torn, my mind forced into conjurations of the psyche.

I turned back to the city, to society at large, the world, and saw it all bluster in its fateful glory. Here a light, there a spectacle, everywhere buildings and machines, everywhere activity, like a million pods all in motion constituting what we have come to know as life, a great Leviathan like operation without bound or end, inexorably pushing and moving forward, relentlessly and ceaselessly carried by an impetus that states without stating anything at all into the ether, “behold, I am your greatest incarnation, your highest achievement, your loftiest ideal, your destiny”.

We humans have an uncanny ability to construct with our minds sometimes disruptions in the fabric of space and time and to view the world as we wish, to slow or dilate time, to make structures seem what they are not, just as we see formations in clouds that are obviously not present. The sub-conscious is a powerful thing, after all.

 I stood there, wearied by this grand, earthly reel, and immediately I saw it transformed, everything seemed to stop or at least slow down, everything seemed distorted, buildings bent, machines placated, lights flashed in different arrays, a circumferential vision dawned before me where I felt like a chariot whisked me around this grand structure so that I could view its sinews, its heart and veins, its manifold pieces in slow operation, and as soon as I felt sated of this sight, as one feels sated after a grand meal and must simply rest, I too pulled myself back from this brink of what seemed dangerous line of thought, what had gotten me here, and I quickly receded and pulled myself back to reality, and faced my soul again and looked once more at the placid yet daunting forest before me, its vastness, its richness, its immensity, beckoning my soul, presenting a great contrast to the landscape behind me, speaking as if it was my only solace and my final chance at redemption.

I stood before the majestic, and with one foot step after another, I left what I had hitherto known and entered this new world and with it my own mind, heart and soul. I sought an answer to a question I have long pondered on, as have many others before me: why are we incomplete? Why do we ‘need’ so much and so many things to feel ‘whole’? Why are we not sufficient as we are on our own, with what we have been bestowed? Why, must we need something more, often ‘another’?

 

                This world was different than the one I had become accustomed to. It was not structured in any particular arrangement.  There were no obvious parameters. Everything seemed to just be together, enmeshed in one another, embedded in the soil on which all things grow, whither and recycle. Noises were aloft, of the wind, of the ruffle of tree leaves, of birds making calls of glory to other birds, of the small but incessant thunderous applause of a great many species all making their way, all making their mark, all being a part of this small cosmic ecosystem. I was calmed by it all, yet perturbed. Why, seemingly, did all seem in order and harmony here, yet my mind, and that of my ilk and fellow beings always in Heraclitean flux? Why could we not simply be, us humans, comfortable, sufficient, subsistent in and of ourselves? Has the proverbial front lobe which defines us amongst the millions of species on our planet, especially amongst the mammals, which gives us an inner mirror, a self-idea, which allows us to go within ourselves, recognize ourselves and identify our singularity as a self,  has this construct completely made it impossible for us to become the latter? Are we forlorn to a lifetime of trials and tribulations of the spirit and mind because of it, or are we merely built as such, unable to be the above, to be self-sufficient, always requiring another, always requiring intentional recognition merely to exist and be? Is this our lot, our destiny?

Walking further, in a mossy area, naturally I had abandoned any sense of direction, I was being carried by randomness masked in self-comfort that destiny was guiding my hand, my little delight, my little dessert of comfort. It was at this point that I came before a great tree, a unique true, one not like the others. This tree stood out, its structure rather odd, not in any particular arrangement were its branches, here a long scrupulous one with many elements, there a shorter one, confined closer to the trunk, closer to its heart, all of it, wildly shaped in chaotic fashion, yet deeply embedded in the soil, resolutely clinging to its source, the earth.

I stood staring at this tree, and it seemed to speak to me, in hush tones, without words, and immediately I had found my first companion and passerby in this strange land. I stood before it, eyes, glaring deeply at its thick mass of a trunk and its many tentacles, and spoke to it thus. “Do you see me, Mr. Tree?” A long silence and eeriness came upon me. I must be delusional. The human mind is incredible and is capable of creating the wildest of distortions and delusions. No, but I could feel it, the same feeling one has when they take a leap of faith. I moved closer to it and asked, “are you there, Mr. Tree?” Yet again, nothing, and with the sullen face of a lonely child who cannot find a friend to play with I took a few steps back and proceeded to walk in a different direction, and just at this point I heard a ruffle, a grumble almost, and shocked and scared, I turned to see that the trees position had changed and I too with it now. Then it came, a whisper, yet an imperious one, with great power and import like the spoken words of lovers who say so much with so little. “Wayfaring soul, why do you ask what you already know and feel but cannot trust yourself to accept. Naturally I see you, you are staring at me, you are breathing on me, and you are standing on my veins embedded deeply in the ground”. Moved to tears by the solace of knowing that perhaps I was not alone on this journey, yet also confounded by what I was witnessing, fully aware that the human mind is an immensely complex being of its own. I was reminded of the great words of John Milton, who said that the mind is its own place and in itself can make hell out of heaven, a heaven out of hell. Was I dreaming? Was I merely so tired and weary I needed companionship and created what I had just heard? Schizophrenics prove quite well just how possible this is.  A long pause ensued, and I spoke to the tree, regardless of my hesitance. “May we talk?”, to which the response was, “we have been talking ever since you glanced upon me, we have been talking ever since you hunched your back and then prostrated  yourself at my uniqueness, and I already know what you are going to ask me… why are we incomplete?” Stunned, yet humbled by the forces that had somehow contrived to create this happening before me, I took a leap of faith and said yes, “why are we incomplete? Why must we always need something else, something more, someone, to feel whole, to feel right, and to feel at one with ourselves?” To which the tree responded simply, “we are fragments of a whole, and no fragment can be complete by definition, though it is possible we can complete the circle by a certain admission, by a certain truth, by a certain realization”. Compelled, I asked what that was, having concurred with the initial notion that we are indeed small fragments of a greater whole. I received no response. The tree had gone silent. I asked again, why are we incomplete and what it was that we can do to complete and close the circle and feel whole? After a long pause, the tree responded thus, “you see me, yet you do not. You see my trunk, my branches, my leaves, my bountiful wisdom enmeshed in the hues of my colours, yet you do not even see what constitutes me most”. Confounded, I pressed on, and asked, “what do you mean?” to which the tree responded, look down young soul, look hard upon the ground which foists you like the Chariot foisted Icarus and Daedelus from their life to their death. Look deep, beyond it, there you will know my real essence, there you will uncover my soul, my being”. I stood there in puzzlement, but after a quick glance at the trunk, I saw the veins at its bottom and knew the answer immediately: the roots. “Yes, whispered the tree. You thought you had seen me whole, but you barely even saw my soul, my heart, my foundation. You missed my very essence, my essential being, my beginning, my sustenance. Thus is it with your kind, you often merely scratch and see the surface, not remembering that a great underlying foundation is often present in everything to which you unbeknownst suffer the anxieties of your incompleteness for not understanding it. Wake up, young wayfaring soul. Open your eyes”. And then and there, I snapped out of my spell, utterly confounded by my realization, wondering whether I was just delusional or not and whether this exchange had actually taken place. It did not matter. I had gleaned something from the tree, and in this I took comfort in understanding my sense of incompleteness a bit more. Perhaps we are not seeing the whole picture when we think we are incomplete. Perhaps we are missing a fundamental piece without which a true understanding is rendered impossible. Jean-Paul Sartre once said that mankind created God to represent the Totality of which we are never capable of achieving as human beings. Perhaps he was right. In a world of so much complexity, especially to a human mind, how well can we be at ease with ourselves when there are so many points of reference by which to judge one against another? Perhaps we feel incomplete because we are, because there is so much and so many and we can hardly be a fragment of all that we know exists but is hardly possible to attain. Our longing for another then, most dramatically woven into the innate need for a ‘mate’, for another with whom to share this journey, with whom to share life and all its concomitant experiences, with whom to ultimately procreate,  is borne of this fundamental inadequacy of ours regarding our incompleteness. Certainly this makes some sense. In a world of so much, in a mind with so much depth, we can realize, bear witness to, and see so much, yet be able to touch, feel, smell and handle so little, hence we make our best attempt to complete this circle by bridging ourselves with one another. Our lack is what drives our pursuit of wholeness via the ‘other’. Perhaps it must be so. Perhaps it is right. Perhaps it simply is as it must be. The answer to this, I did not yet know. I carried on.

               

                It was not darkening in the forest; I was slightly wearied, yet carried forth by the immeasurable strength of a soul on a mission to understand. I found sustenance in water carried by large cupped leaves of an everglade tree from yesterday’s rain. It replenished my parched mouth and body. And verily is it not one of life’s true great delights, a sip of water. A simple sip of life’s holy bounty, which at the right time can seem like being overcome by the aura of the universe, this divine dew of heaven. I found some berries and chards along the way, small, but tender, ripe and sweet. Is not the sweetness of foliage sometimes greater than that of the sun’s rays when one is famished yet in need of soulful replenishment direct from the earth? I also picked up a walking stick along the way. Perhaps because I needed the physical support in a turbulent and complicated terrain, or perhaps, as is often the case, we use props to support our mental shortcomings, not our physical ones. Nonetheless, I found myself changing along the path of my journey, yet still continuing to look for answers to my question: why are we incomplete beings?

The darkness was setting in but the splendor of a partial moon gave me some guidance and brightness. How ironic that even the moon was partial, its fullness hidden by the divine arrangement of the constellations of our stars and the sun at just that moment in time. Beautiful was the deep night sky, full of stars whose light has travelled millions of years to reach us, and I was reminded of the great Dante’s echoing words: the stars circle above us displaying their eternal glory, yet our gaze is on the ground. At that point a crackle and certain noise drew my attention just there, back to the ground and away from the splendours of eternity just above me, and I stood startled, once more, for there was something in front of me, ahead of me, perhaps coming towards me? Tepidly, taking a few steps forward, for fear does not reward us but paralyses, I immediately became sure that something was indeed in front of me, dark as it was, this I could see and sense. I moved forward, slowly but surely, on a set footing, trying to keep my wits about me fatigued as I, knew the machinations of a mind wearied of thought and wondering. I then heard it, unmistakably, and then saw it: the cuckoo of an owl. And lo and behold, with a steady gaze and a piercing glance, I projected my vision forward, and saw it with my own eyes, a phenomenal specimen, a beautiful creature that like me rests not at night but lives for the eternal glory of the dark and all its mysteries. A great, grand owl with deep grey feathers, piercing yellow, gold glazed eyes, staring directly at me. I stood before it, with the peace of mind that we are two pieces of the same universe in unique form, come together for an instance in manifest destiny as human and animal. A long pause followed as we gazed upon one another with mutual admiration and respect. The few moments felt like an eternity. Its bizarre how something as absolutely constant as time can take relative perspective in the human state, where a moment can be stretched to feel like hours, and hours, compressed to feel like a moment. Such is human life. Long enough had passed and silence spoke only so much, hence I did. “Hello there, Mr. Owl. I hope I am not trespassing nor disturbing your peaceful repose”. Though I could sense its peaceful nature, the owl resolutely stood there, not responding. I felt a certain discomfort and so responded with, “shall I leave?” Again, nothing. As humans we all want company, no one likes being alone, this is a universal human truth, anything is for naught if it is not for sharing, but there was a certain humility to me in being in such a strange place not my home, as if though I was trespassing, and hence I decided to press on and not disturb the balance of things, as if I could anyhow. And just as I made a few steps, I was stopped in my tracks by the words of the owl, who uttered from behind me, “just as night blankets me and this tree provides me my perch, so it does you, and you are not alone”. Stunned yet delighted, almost ebullient that I found another friend or at least someone to speak with on my solo journey; I turned around and glanced at the owl... As though we had known each other for many years, I spoke directly to him: “why is it then that I feel incomplete? Why does my kind always seek some absolution in another before they do so in themselves? Why if we are such great and lofty creatures, us humans, so proud, so intelligent, so at the top of the chain, do we always require others to sustain us, to support us, to, complete us?”. A pause ensued, as though the owl had to think, but think he did not. He was trying to impart a lesson, an answer in the most effective and profoundest of ways, with unspoken language. He pierced my eyes again, almost penetrating my soul, and then turned his neck down as if to look and point at the tree, then to its branches, then to a vine of berries given birth to by the plenitude of its nature, and then at the night sky, where he glanced far and wide and long, then finally back to me. “Do you see?” I wasn’t quite sure exactly if what I saw was what he was trying to draw my attention to, yet I proceeded to ask for clarification. “What do I see, Mr. Owl?” The response came again with a long pause, but this time it came clearly. “What would I be without this land and confluence of magic that created me, this tree and perch that supports me, these berries that sustain me, the night sky that lights me and gives me my most manifold space and nature, my most delightful ambience, my essence as a night watcher? Surely I would be nothing”. And it was then that I received it, his answer to my question, and it was simple. Without these things, the owl too would be incomplete. Its purpose would be null. Its existence void of purpose. It is not so much an incompleteness then that we seem to suffer, but an unfinished and unfurnished essence. For if we are capable of realizing a totality given the complexity of our mind and our understanding of the universe, yet conversely unable to achieve it due to our sheer limited nature as beings, then naturally we are always forlorn to feel incomplete in the grand face of an abundant and full existence of which we are aware but can never wholly attain. Yet being the persistent creatures that we are, we will always strive for completeness, always seek perfection, completion, but the pursuit is what matters, for its actualization or realization is otherwise near impossible. Our greatness perhaps lies in our understanding that we are limited, that we are incomplete, for in this understanding we gain humility and a catalyst to pursue an approximation towards wholeness, which is really the impetus of our journey in life. I now gazed upon the owl in a in a congenial demeanour, made happy by this newfound understanding. I smiled at him, thankful and he, true to his nature, maintained his serene and poignant yet pointed stance. He said simply one thing to me: “let your incompleteness complete you, let the journey be your purpose, and be at peace with yourself and the universe for it is at peace with you. Just be and so will everything else. Farewell way faring soul”. I thanked him and bid him my gratitude and began walking again. Not far away from where I spoke with the owl, I noticed a crevice, a nook in the bushes that seemed a fine spot for a nights rest, and there I laid under the night sky, gathering the thoughts of my day and somehow finding peace by my partial solitude and incompleteness. Like the flashing of the stars above me, my eyes sparkled basking in the vision before me, and finally they closed, naturally, like the unfolding of the butterfly from the cocoon when its set course has transpired. I lay there asleep, in the dark forest, a small, infinitesimal being, on this vast planet in this incomprehensibly infinite universe, praying to wake up to another day, another chance, another sunrise. Is that not after all the greatest treasure, the largest bounty of gold, the Sun and the promise of a new day, another chance at your dreams…

 

                I was woken by the plenitude of the forest I was in. The sun’s rays, dazzling across the landscape and spectrum of trees and greenery, illumination the microscopic glory of all before me. A veritable array of animals and birds and little green creatures fluttered about me, below me, beside me, behind me, all chirping, singing, talking in their own sacred manners, going about their own sacred lives, singing in unison with the eternal symphony of existence and life on earth. Sometimes a smile is forced; sometimes it is elicited without control. How could I not smile at where I was and what I was witnessing? Often, we do not stand and just take in the moment, for as we all know, moments are all we have, there is nothing more to life than these bite size pieces of our life brought into form and fashioned into eternal reality.  As individuals who are caught up in the complicated affairs of everyday life, we are often so inundated with the trappings of modern living and the daily toils and trifles of our fleeting experiences that we find nothing to permeate our core but duties and dichotomies. We must do this, or do we do that? Rather, we must do it all, have it all, be it all, and in that insatiable quest brought upon by a throbbing mob and compendium of fellow beings and lost souls, we get lost seeking the impossible; seeking everything, often to gain nothing at all. No, at this moment in this forest, I saw for myself that everything was present, but nothing is ours, it is all for sharing and it is all for being, but not for having, at least not all at once. Even animals share bounties. Does not the bee yield its nectar to a flower when it pollinates it with its seed? Does not that same flower light up the heart and soul of lovers when passed on in tributes of adoration. All is but a cycle, nothing is set, nothing is fixed, perhaps just the stars.

What a glorious morning and moment of lucidity I had. I sprung up to continue my path, and chose a route at random, for life is often but a random route taken at will. Walking along this path, I thought to myself of all that had happened just the day before. Yes, indeed we are incomplete, and we seek completion often through others almost by virtue of weakness and necessity, but perhaps we are not as incomplete as I have long held we are. Perhaps the tree was right, that there is always more than meets the eye, that though we do not see them, the roots are there, its heart and soul, while we think it to be the trunk and branches. Perhaps the owl too was correct. Indeed what would it be be were it not for those things like night and the perch and the berries that made it what it was, gave it its nature? Our incompleteness may just be an optical or mental illusion, yet one that defines us for we always search for its totality, in vain, for nothing is total within the human realm, and our conception of totality, whether as God or the Universe merely accentuates this understanding and yet creates this chasm for us, when improperly viewed. I kept walking, stick in hand, thoughts full of wonder, heart full of intrepidity and yet trepidation. All things exist in their opposites, after all. Day and night. Love and hate.

After many hours of walking, I reached a point and encountered an impasse. There was a great river with a torrential current through which I could certainly not pass without being slipped and pulled away. Whatever was I to do now? I could not complete my journey without passing this river, yet the danger it posed was real. Did I turn back, and leave my journey unfinished and head back, without an answer to my question? Do I risk death by crossing and taking a chance? Do I give up now? Those were poor options and just as so often happens, with an open heart and a sprightly spirit, solutions present themselves, or better yet appear. Just then in my despair about my present dilemma, a great, loud noise emerged from the forest. Startled, I took a few steps back nearly falling into the river. Stopping at the edge, I waited, hesitantly but not fearfully.  And before I knew it, to my great surprise, a great, big and lofty but wise animal emerged before me from the trees. It was an elephant. Amazed, I did not know what to do, but its glance ensnared me and captured my undivided attention and its stance welcome me as it stood, swinging its trunk around as if to say hello. I moved forward, slowly, and spoke to it thus: “Hello Mr. Elephant. Are you here to assist me?” A long pause and the elephant said nothing but walked towards the river and stood there, taking a drink of its passing water. I was mesmerized by the site. I walked towards the river as well, stood side by side and looking at the other side, said to the elephant “will you assist me to cross this river? Is this your purpose?” Finally the elephant stepped back a few feet and I turned to stare at it, and it spoke to me:  “my purpose is no different than yours, to live and feel, to be, to continue on”. I was somewhat confused, and responded by saying that I was on a journey to understand why we are incomplete creatures us human beings, why we so desperately aim at a totality that is impossible to attain and often do so by attempting to merge ourselves up with other beings, which sometimes works to our benefit, and sometimes equally to our detriment.  The elephant looked at me, its trunk sunk low and said “nothing is incomplete but our thoughts of completion. We are simply small bits of the whole composed in unique form but you my friend, you are of an ilk whose progeny has developed faster and further than many others and you are confronted with such questions, whereas we of the animal kingdom, we merely accept our realm and live as best we can in this defined space and nature. We simply are. You simply are too, but you are confounded by your thoughts, for your destiny as a whole is a great one, and so with great potential comes great responsibility.” I was moved by this deep and heartfelt sentiment by this gentle giant, and took a moment to think about it. Ironic, as I was doing precisely that which makes us and breaks us, our species: thought and contemplation, cogitation, perturbation. “Perhaps you are right Mr. Elephant, perhaps we are fine in our constitution, and perhaps our incompleteness rests in our very nature, which pushes us to strive on.” I then thought of the great Godel who’s Incompleteness Theorem showed that even the supposedly most tautological of disciplines, mathematics, was not complete, but always an approximation towards completeness and accuracy. So too we humans are simply incomplete because we must have a reason for striving on, for continuing our path, our approximation towards completeness and wholeness of being, which though never attainable, can be approximated towards ceaselessly. I found certain validity to this thought, and though I had stumbled upon a discovery on my quest, I knew right away that I now needed to cross this river, for the answer to my question lay further ahead and I could feel it. “Mr. Elephant, thank you for your wisdom and counsel, you have given me much to meditate on, but right now I need your help in crossing this river, for my path lies before me ahead, thither, there, past those trees.” The elephant, without saying a word, knelt down as if to nudge me to sit on his back, and lo and behold that is precisely what I did and how I came to cross the river. His sturdy feet and heavy stock were no match for the river, and upon reaching the other shore, I hopped off, stared deep into his eyes, as though we understood one another without needing to say a word, and I caressed his trunk, said thanks, offered supplication with my hands, and turned and walked into the forest.

 

                Everything seemed different now. I felt an overcoming being born. Something had happened with my last encounter. I knew the answer was near. My heart palpitated with excitement and nervousness for a finality I could sense. I began to run. I ran like I have never run before. My steps took strides they never have. My muscles felt as though they were new, my lunges over obstacles became secondary; I became eagle-like, like Horace, attacking the landscape with my soul and my being through physical form. I ran like the wind, unstoppable, unflinching, and I began to sense it. I could hear it. I could feel it. A grand, majestic sound and awesomeness awaited me just beyond the horizon. And as I took my final steps, I pushed through the final trees, embankments and bushes, I tripped over an old log and went flying through the air and landed hard on soft sand. My face was buried in this warm, moist, crystalline beauty composed of millions of long deceased creatures whose remains had evaporated into golden stardust. I was so moved by the sound before me and so enervated by the long journey and the long run that I could not lift my head, or perhaps did not want to, but I could hear it. I was in absolute awe and rapture just by the noise alone. It was water. It was currents hitting the shore. I had reached the ocean. A great, vast expanse lay before me. I lifted myself up, and saw its majesty before my very eyes and was paralysed by its beauty, its infiniteness, its sublime beauty and glory. I managed to get feeling back in my legs and walked towards it, stood before it, countenancing the panorama and its ineffable beauty. With the sun setting on me, birds overhead, a light breeze passing across me and the aroma of life pervasive, I dipped my feet in the water, and stood there staring, reckoning with my own soul and the world, for the answer to my question was there before me.

We are incomplete by nature, as human beings, but we must remember that as human beings, even our perception and understanding of our world is incomplete, bounded by a million prejudices, experiences, faulty constructs and insufficient abilities to fully capture and understand all before us. For this precise reason we seek completeness of some sort, and often through another, and though this may be the natural way of things and a fine one at that, it is precisely in and of itself a limitation for nothing in the universe is complete but perhaps the universe itself. Everything merely is, and besides, we are not capable of understanding it regardless, so we approximate with the help, and hearts, of others. This is precisely why love is the most profound, important, powerful and necessary of all emotions. It makes life itself possible, bearable and joyful, though by virtue of all these it can also produce its opposite when fault lines appear, as so often they do, and we conversely experience the torrential pain of its unbecoming.. All things exist in their opposites and it is no different with us. Hence, I became aware of what the great Parmenides of Elea was trying to convey when at the dawn of civilized thought in ancient Greece as one of the first human beings to truly think consciously about what it means to be human and the nature of existence he postulated quite simply that everything,  all that is, is simply ‘one’. Existence itself is merely what is and what must be, necessary, unchanging, timeless and unitary. Looking at the ocean, I sang this song with myself knowing I had understood why we feel incomplete and search for its resolution, so often in vain, in and through others. It is quite simply because we do not realize that totality belongs to God and the Universe, not to us, and we strive at it always regardless as if it is some addiction, relentlessly, not realizing the truth. There is no ‘you’, there is no ‘I’. There is just everything and everyone, there is just us. Approximate as you will and love one another, that is our nature, but realize that in so doing you love yourself and we are all hence bounded. It has been said often throughout history and I now understand for good reason why. There is truly one thing. We are all but one. And with this knowledge secure in my mind, my journey was complete and I was ready to return back to my life and share the milk and honey I had extracted from nature itself. Though we are incomplete as individuals, together, we are complete. Together we are one. Though we must all battle life as incomplete beings incapable of truly understanding the whole, I am comforted by the words of Albert Einstein, whose belief I too share, when he stated: “I am satisfied with the mystery of life's eternity and with a knowledge, a sense, of the marvelous structure of existence - as well as the humble attempt to understand even a tiny portion of the Reason that manifests itself in nature”. May this be enough to carry us all through this journey peacefully, purposefully and together, a bunch of partial, incomplete beings, come together as One. Amen.

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Akim Larcher | Reply 19.03.2014 05.49

Amazing to read and thank you for some beautiful insights.

R | Reply 29.05.2013 04.10

“nothing is incomplete but our thoughts of completion... " what a realization! I always said that the journey is the destination... I enjoyed reading this :)

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08.12 | 12:21

Good reflexions and philosophy
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25.01 | 15:17

Profound with a lot of philosophical insights. I love the admonition of never abdicating the future. Thanks for sharing.

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06.07 | 19:41

Wow, this is so beautifully written. Thank you for sharing. Love & Peace.

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19.03 | 05:49

Amazing to read and thank you for some beautiful insights.

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