One Must Reach with a Touch of Hubris

You must be naive. You must suffer the illusions of having more than you do. You cannot fashion worthwhile things under the canopy of pure humility.

One must reach with a touch of hubris. Yes, nature will smack you down with the sting of deserved embarrassment, but this is not mere punishment; this is priceless education.

You must move into spaces you do not yet belong. Nature does not reward the eloquent monk who sits in an isolated cave, rebranding his burden of overthinking as wisdom. He has made the critical error of believing he no longer needs movement to learn.

Nature is wholly disinterested in your theories and articulations. Such things are but hubris of the impotent kind. You cannot realize potential through the hush of tranquility.

There is nothing heroic about inaction. It convinces only those who fail to create themselves; those who adore heroes only to live vicariously by words not within their keep. Those who revel in definitions of life despite never having lived.

Be resolute in your audacity, not your shy resignation in the face of nature’s clutter and confusion.

Pick up your sword and move.

The zest of nature cannot be known by sampling its aroma. You must sink your teeth in.

Movement is the absoluteness you seek.