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I know I am a romantic, but a romantic invested in realism. It is probably not as unusual as assumed.
I make a claim for reality and I understand that such a claim is far too romantic. We grasp for what we individually want and it is always illusory; nevertheless, that becomes the reality of our situation. There are those behaviourists who claim that the mind, consciousness, self, is all illusion; pause and think, being all illusion makes it reality. It is the fact of the matter that the behaviourists have not awoken upon. I do not simply behave. I live. I live knowingly.
I am awake to my depressing reality. The realism, though, is that truth is in the measure. It is never that bad, that good, that ugly, that beautiful, and never that false or that true. It is measured upon an ideal horizon worldview, and the wider I make that view-in-learning the greater the hope I have. That is the insight – to embrace the depressing reality does not mean the end of hope. If we live then there is hope for further good, beauty, and truth. What it will make of you or I, cannot be said. It has to be lived. However, seeing the wide horizon worldview unfolding, that for me, is flourishing.
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