Here, is an outstretched hand, I reach you.
It won't say, life’s a beach. To each their fate. But if your fate to feel my outreach falls within your light of good, your ideal and all its striving. Unslackened with my grasp —
I will assist to steer your nature’s-best, to hew her way adamantly, so she takes away from your health, what suffering by you is had.
So is, my dedication on offer to your ideal, nay to your aspiration to heal health, to take your health beyond limits.
It all starts with your necessity and sense of urgency.
It means going beyond, as:
They are the first limitations.
Judgements? I honestly cannot think, that in the community, you may prefer, lack of judgement is the sole experience. I won’t hold my breath.
It is not difficult to capture the judgements floating and bouncing off ones’ back; all opinions and thoughts aimed and slingshot, like stones flying overhead.
Some actually touch by what is said, but mostly unspoken they dash as lipless retinue, surpassing code as words that move in other minds’ debate. Mute and felt alone, the air they sate. Just as, most communication, wordless is, with the part between the lines, the loudest, greatest lean for honesty. Or so it seems, to some ears, often.
Futile thoughts. Usually do more harm than good, if one takes them as plumage from other mind’s as ones’ own.
Fortunately, this is by no means necessary. As it is, for either a passing smile or to evade crooked looks. Try to leave the whims with the people, so they may serve it cold in times of their heated need, like pivots of an hour.
Fertile ideas. They are at best intermediacies achieved, waiting to be made pointed.
You still have: the bad, the painful, the ugly and unasked for...
Ideals are the pointed, glowing bits, before you, it is that what aspiration is, the power-source that keeps you moving to success.
It is what adds meaning and value.
When the ideal, as distant better is reality enclosed, through keeping actions aligned with the ideal, you realise how relative the ideal was, that there is yet another ‘better’ before us, to strive for and behold as adjusted ideal. Cutting through the bewildering wars of thought that turn dumb grooves of torment, apparently ever willing to restore the deception of leisure in the stress of nature.
An ideal, an aspiration, is what stands bold as, meaningful, or fruitful goal; lifting us above the mere flux of moment absorption.
We stand freed, to keep our mind beyond the drift, beyond the hurried paces and phenomenal shifts. Clear to refresh ourselves as witness kings or queens, and feel enthusiasm in doing or leaving whatever it takes to attain what as reality glows ahead for perfection’s sake as win.
Having an ideal brings goal-aware, an awareness that makes bold to dare.
It fuels our activities with targets, striving force and dynamic emotion to actualise the ideal. As if an old story, long written, acted out in present time with future in mind. It alters futile by adding perspective and overtakes the moment by stupendous force. Without the ideal, the aspiration, there would be no striving, no originality, no vigour, no brightness, no keenness, no indivisible time and no zeal.
But don’t let idealism slip into indiscriminate largeness, all proud of its fortunate role. As it happens, life floats and bobs, so we cannot expect a goal in life to be stationary.
Will it go to or from you, to or from where you stand at present? Because that’s the question. Either it will come to you or move away from you. In case of the latter, you have to see what is happening, did you doze off, are you nodding to a different beat? Has the ideal a place in the whole wide world? Or what scale can it be made to play on?
Now you can lengthen the space of distance that captures your perceptions and introduce a touch of black and white. A head in white with a tail of black as a body of uncertainty. Without shifting into animal-like enigmas, it stands firm before you, that there is quite a difference between an outer ideal and an inner ideal.
Of course, here we just speak of what superlatives hold, ideals as extreme and grand, as grandeurs of illusion, - or - universal truths, can be.
The work towards them, by unperturbed treads — that will either shake nations to depths of horror or seal the abysmal depths with luminous lights.
Transforms worlds by kindled fire of good or open the Gates of Hell as some Bill would have it.
Bring alive the total oneness with Truth Sublime in a selfless embrace, or cut the vibrant link between heaven and earth through oppressive light lacking winds.
When alive to life’s grand extremes, awake to the motions of opposing directions and aims, the light and dark as good and evil, each within their tardy pace of coiling ways and acts. It becomes clear, transformation happens in earth...
There is room, for you and your climes of health and healing...
Its entanglement with the largeness above and its own tangled forces and ideals that hope, bestowing tasks on force of life, to heal health.