Full of Meaning

Full of meaning:

my world is full of meaning, personalized through my own years, as well as what came to me from others long before. What I see is a story, a fictional account of reality. It's a translation of first view to suit my mood, and my beliefs. My story isn't wrong, it's just not complete, only telling me a version of the truth to fit the comfort of my needs. 

to give meaning is a beautiful thing, assigning value to my daily view - of what holds a certain loveliness, or an aversion given to protect. In a sense the world is seen through an artful lens, a discerning taste acquired through studied years. But at best it's my own meaning assigned to the world, and lesser still would be the unexamined views that I've accepted. 

the meaning of the world is just my story. 

art belongs before value, it's the innocence of initial seeing, and then all meaning follows. It's really how the world is seen, a first shock of wonder at this seamless view, my own natural belonging to it all, and only then a rush for meaning. My original view is always complete, it's whole and without story. It's true seeing. 

yet my stories belong as well, they're earned through the grace of living, an expression of life through the lens of my account as self. They are true to extent that I believe them. In this light, and at this point in life - I hold my views lightly. My life is a story based on what I held as true in certain moments. It's still unfolding now. 

and yes, it's full of meaning. 

~

Peace, Eric