O ne day of solitude with less food and more contemplation has made me at ease to accept my vulnerabilities and to be humble about my achievements. When I was sitting silently and observing my emotions I found the fragility of mind and its quest for security. I was also aware of my mind's constant strive to fulfil some voidness inheres in me. That void comes from my understanding that I am imperfect, incomplete, raw, amateur, and that requires efforts to get a perfect state of my being. That perfect state, I observe since my awareness of consciousness, never arrived. I have tried many entertaining things to get a finished circle but a few dots move in a circumference to make the incomplete sphere and my efforts turn to be futile to run after a heavenly perfection contemplated in platonic literature. I have found in the morning that fragility is a matter of celebration. Most of the tough minds who aspire for grand maturity turn out to be too vulnerable to be tolerated. Our history
There is something in everything and everything in something.