Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘tangible’

20111009

In aphorism, proverb on 20111009 at 11:42

Untouchable is not intangible.

The exclusive practice exclusion.

Truth is distorted as is a light deformed over a canvas rippled.

The fool paint a house, so as to save it from collapse.

The wise balance being human, which is undeniable, with remaining idealistic, which is indispensable.

To conform is to accept the fate of others as your own.

To be singled out -is often either to be idolized or vilified, with better odds of the latter.

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20100825

In aphorism, proverb, rumination on 20100825 at 13:15

If we are not actively in support of, then at best, we are passively in opposition of.

If we are not actively in opposition of, then at best, we are passively in support of.

With each act of contrariness, our actions are but tangible lies to ourselves. With each act of congruency, our actions are but tangible proof of our being.

The action taken creates history, the word spoken creates the present; the thought formed creates the future.

20100111

In question, rumination on 20100111 at 17:47

Over the years, I have pondered much the notion of respect –what it does mean and what it does not mean. While it may be foolish to try to define it rigidly or simplistically, I find value in pursuing a truer understanding of it. To disregard the exploration of the abstraction or ambiguity surrounding respect, is to simply default to a superficial definition of respect.

a question

How do the terms ‘survivalism’ and ‘selfishness’ pertain to ‘respect’?

Survivalism may encompass an act or a choice made, cognitively or otherwise, that without being made would lead to the destruction of the self, and by exaggerated extension, the human race. Literally, to survive is to simply to continue [the] existence [of an entity, being.]

Selfishness may describe those actions or choices made, on matters that do not endanger the continuation of one’s existence, and in fact, may create frivolous benefits at the expense of another’s survival. Literally, to be selfish is simply to lack consideration of others.

intersection

I believe these two concepts intersect at [or diverge from] a common point, namely respect. I summarize ‘respect’ as “the cognizant compromise of the superfluous desires of the self for the preservation of the basic needs of another.”

When I directly devalue the needs of another at the mere gratification of myself, do I disrespect another. When I value another’s intrinsic rights by relinquishing my desires unessential, do I respect another. Without an intrinsic understanding of this, one is even incapable of respecting the self, and by extension, another.

Disrespect is born via the cognitive acknowledgment, or ignorance of, the sometimes subtle and highly relative distinction of ‘need’ vs. ‘want’.

defining by opposite

Defining what is a ‘need’  or what is ‘essential’ is no abecedarian task. Similarly, defining what is ‘superfluous’ or what is merely a ‘desire’ is better left to the omniscient.

But reality defies the ideality of accurately distinguishing between ‘needs’ and ‘wants’, and so demands otherwise; the one left to practice respect is, ultimately, the common person –you and I.

Perhaps a need is but something we have, if even without wanting it; a desire is but something we want, if only without having it. In quantitative terms, a ‘need’ might have a negative value; a ‘want’ might have a positive value, with survival hovering only at a neutral value between, zero.

Looking at the meanings opposite of ‘survival’ and ‘selfless’, only then, may it be possible to gain a better understanding of where or how these concepts truly intersect to better realize respect, as not only a relative abstraction, but as a tangible reality.

That which speaks not of survival speaks not of life. It speaks of peril and all that perishes.

That which speaks not of the selfish speaks of all that is selfless. It speaks not only of generosity and all that is altruistic, but also of applied philanthropic action.

what it is

Respect is a choice; it is not a simple definition carved out of infallible stone. It is a choice made by the fallible, by the common person, which speaks of a regard for life, of a concern for others.

Respect speaks of sought-out understanding –both of the self, as well as a willed understanding of others.

And living mindfully in the balance between.

Note: Access to WordPress is still blocked within China. Without access to a much appreciated VPN (proxy), I would be unable to publish to my blog from within mainland China. Thus, I am blessed and grateful to be sharing. With every post, I hereby protest the oppressive nature of the Chinese government blocking access to any part of the web.

20060131

In poetry on 20060131 at 23:10

《the sex of poets》

The sex of poets emanates –
flowing as without edges,
contagious as without knowing;
words play
back and forth –
a rhythm, ever changing,
follows whereby one leads
until the pull of the next.
One moment
as without definition,
nor clearly sided with neighbors –
rolling one to the next.
Beckoned without call,
it is from a distance that
one sees deep into the heart
where life seems both
to stop and start, again –
without pause and
with the haste of lovers
kept at bay, unwilled.
The words sear clear,
sharp and pure.
They exist alone,
and yet are fed
by the hunger of ideas
yet tossed,
yet exposed –
as if the virgin ever lived
within the eyes of the soul;
forever waiting,
forever with hunger –
fresh as the moment to follow.

The sex of poets lingers
past the setting sun
into the morning dew,
where one knows not for sure
if the climax be truer
at the final release of
thoughts never felt, – or
perhaps at the time
of response; the
lover’s words, a compliment,
meshing with, as if one.
Almost beyond a reality,
the words live on
to dance without end,
to breed a careful song –
as if in tales of lore,
existence never certain.
Fleeting, though strong;
Skirting, though present –
The moment speaks not
of tangible truths
that speak of tomorrows,
but rather the window
rarely looked into –
it is there
it is waiting,
but cannot be taken with you,
nor fed to the mortal –
only to continue
in the souls of lovers –
perhaps truer than
the love of lovers itself.

The sex of poets preys
upon the passion saved
over years and decades
desires of the flesh
never satisfy the wound
of ages past
of pains neglected
merely masking in mum
the yearning ever mounting
to release with a single
sound
The silence is broken,
fears relinquished;
the rebirth of hopes
fills the air –
thick with the essence of now
and hint of next,
never to be sure.
The bliss lies within,
ever longing.
Separate worlds entwined –
an affair of the id
within…
Never lucid to the searching,
but in control.
When no longer logic bids you
surrender, at last call
with bursting souls;
hungrier still, the eve –
power of the word
has finally come, the time.