Recently, during a small seasonal bout of mental instability brought on by too much self-analysis and general malaise, I took myself walking in a public place to clear my head. Often I find that watching the randomness and chaos of the general populace can lift my mood and free any log jams that my thoughts have become crowded with. This particular night I passed a movie house and on a whim (a strange, can't-believe-i'm-confessing-this, secure-in-my-manliness, kind of whim) I saw
Memoirs of a Geisha. Before you jump to conclusions, let me say it was the only thing starting as I happened to walk by. In any case, there was a line in the movie which was applicable to tonights post. That is pretty much the only reason I am taking the chance you won't lose all respect for me once you find out I went to this movie. The line basically said the geisha was accorded to be a
living work of art.
So here it is a few days later and I
read in a blog the following words:
We are sometimes rendered ineffective in our daily lives by ego and our desire to paint a perfect picture for those around us.
This small piece of incidental prose seemed to resonate for some reason with a bit of introspection I'd been subjecting myself to. Which seems to always be the case. Just when I'm getting my undies nicely knotted over some stupid cynicism, along comes wisdom nicely packaged and neat and beats me severely about the face and neck.
I think I'll go for another walk...
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