I
thought to speak of it, this lavender dream, outlined in bliss; to wonder of
merits, an ecstatic life, and all that’s lost; whereto is friction, to want for
pleasure, at the grandest expense: one’s wisdom, unless for merit—we learn
through joy. Would it be—the measure of resistance, uniformed in easiness? It
sounds differently—when uttered aloud—the ring of knowledge winged gently; but
more the cyan vision—to obtain without tension, this guidance of life. The
thesis follows: joy is a teacher, the root of wisdom, where pain is its deficit.
I couldn’t imagine, where joy is the root, where such deepness has come out of
resistance; but take a child—where basics are taught—through the kindest
gestures; whereat pangs of growth, seem to embody—the deepest results; however
this life, to truly enjoy it, must be balanced between the two. We desire to
know—if that that is good—has ever come without a measure of resistance—some
nature of tension—that differs from the easiness of joy; albeit we desire that
wisdom—flow from the valve joy, we realize that resistance proffers the richest
yields; where this is life—to want for depth—through the easiest channels;
while many beg to differ, opting for resistance, where such yields the richest
harvests. We attempt to see it—the countenance of the two, where joy differs
from pain: the one is upbeat and outgoing; the latter is resolved and cautious;
where both are interchangeable; but rather the two, carry certain
characteristics—that are indicative of the mindset. Too much of each—proves
harmful, where one wonders of the harms of joy; while if approached wrongly,
pain proves harmful, as opposed to a natural teacher.
