There are Buddhists who describe the middle path, the path of balance, as a bobbing between the extremes of a river: you never stay perfectly in the middle of the path, but your balance between the extremes never definitely exceeds beyond the middle.
And that's enough.
In today's world, there is the illusion of people, routines, lives in perfect harmony of time and performance. But it is just that, an illusion.
the discipline of exact times and outputs is not reality. reality is the consistency of trying for a goal and, over time, accumulating unpredictably incalculable efforts until this imperfect accumulation is sufficient to achieve the goal. the middle path is not straight. the balance is crooked and not straight. the edges are found. and so enough is achieved.
The pianist, like any other scholar, is at a level of study that is superior to all others who have never studied or practiced their field. However, because he is unable to perform the most complex and difficult activities in his field, he feels insufficient, mediocre, incapable, unpromising. And so, he lives poorly and without hope of being able to reach the high level, because, after all, he is not perfect. And being perfect at time and performance is the minimal, in theory.
Ladies and gentlemen, don't be discouraged by not being perfect, by making mistakes, by having difficulties, by not keeping to your schedules like robots, by not feeling extremely motivated. You are not robots. This is normal. And if you keep accumulating efforts, following your realistic strategies and plans, this crooked path of the river will take you to the inexorable destiny of the consequence of your inconsistent activity: the achievement of your goal.
This is how shit really happens to those who plan. This is reality spoken to you without all the lies. It is imperfect, moments of extremities, and, yet, enough to achieve your shits. This is the path of the river. The reality of all those successful fuckers out there. Imperfection is responsible for achieving things.
Repeat after me: imperfection achieve things.
Again: imperfections achieve things.
And that's enough.
In today's world, there is the illusion of people, routines, lives in perfect harmony of time and performance. But it is just that, an illusion.
the discipline of exact times and outputs is not reality. reality is the consistency of trying for a goal and, over time, accumulating unpredictably incalculable efforts until this imperfect accumulation is sufficient to achieve the goal. the middle path is not straight. the balance is crooked and not straight. the edges are found. and so enough is achieved.
The pianist, like any other scholar, is at a level of study that is superior to all others who have never studied or practiced their field. However, because he is unable to perform the most complex and difficult activities in his field, he feels insufficient, mediocre, incapable, unpromising. And so, he lives poorly and without hope of being able to reach the high level, because, after all, he is not perfect. And being perfect at time and performance is the minimal, in theory.
Ladies and gentlemen, don't be discouraged by not being perfect, by making mistakes, by having difficulties, by not keeping to your schedules like robots, by not feeling extremely motivated. You are not robots. This is normal. And if you keep accumulating efforts, following your realistic strategies and plans, this crooked path of the river will take you to the inexorable destiny of the consequence of your inconsistent activity: the achievement of your goal.
This is how shit really happens to those who plan. This is reality spoken to you without all the lies. It is imperfect, moments of extremities, and, yet, enough to achieve your shits. This is the path of the river. The reality of all those successful fuckers out there. Imperfection is responsible for achieving things.
Repeat after me: imperfection achieve things.
Again: imperfections achieve things.
