Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
and sorry I could not travel both
and be one traveller, long I stood…
So many, so varied are all the possibilities of how anything gets from this place to that one, how anyone moves from this moment to the next.
Surprising, really, that the start and the finish are always so… well, predictable.
Consider all of the opportunities and chances, missed and completed, that go into one simple motion, how can it be that the at-first and the at-last are so uniform?
You see what I mean?
Look… The beginning always just begins.
And the end…
the end always just ends.
A, p, 13, b, e, m, 325, n, q, f, 11, r, y, w, 69, g,
i, j, t, 42, 7, h, l, k, s, 23, x, u, v, c, d, o, 98, Z
This being the case, it is best to follow the advice of such already ended beings as Seneca and as Nietzsche: Live your life. Treat the first and last as a given; embrace the in-between as a gift.
We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.
–T. S. Eliot
- Boon of Dandelions 7 (keithwaynebrown.com)
- A Philosopher is Neither a Teller nor a Listener (andrewjtaggart.com)