I think it’s beauty. As I strive to make quality as much a part of my life as possible, I am drawn to and maintained by beauty. Beautiful pictures, beautiful cleanliness, beautiful music, beautiful body, beautiful friends, beautiful things. But these are merely the subjective outward manifestations of something deeper, more substantial, and ubiquitous; something real. From my place in the middle of this something, the end is very vague. But the next step is very clear, and it’s toward the mind:
What is a beautiful mind?
How can I cultivate a beautiful mind? This thing that is always in my head. This thing that is always watching, judging. This thing that somehow decides how my fickle mood will color my existence. I am tired of this uncontrollable tendency that renders me powerless before the finite and limited. Perhaps my body would survive more revolutions in this arbitrary cycle, but my genius would die. I would rather sacrifice my body for the sake of my genius, genuine happiness, and honest expression if it was required of me. I seek to have company with the real, where I can sit straight and look upon it with kind eyes, unaffected by fatigue. I believe the bridge to this state is greatly concerned with the cultivation of a beautiful mind.