losing the self

“No one likes to have their sincerity questioned...the spontaneous act...is prized for its unimpeachable authenticity, yet the mind is fast enough that speed is no guarantor of truth. Everyone is always aware of how they look, even when they weep.”
—

Mills

This is so true. Most acts that pour out of me are tinged with self-awareness, not simply awareness of the act itself. The only times when self-awareness almost disappear into the background is when pursuing, ironically, beauty. Beauty not of the self as perceived by others, but beauty of an external something as perceived by the self. It’s the only thing that has power enough to take your breath away—and with that breath the last of you—if only for a moment. And in that exceedingly rare needle of a second, we have pure, pure sincerity. If that instant is sustained, maybe even a truly spontaneous act can be borne, such is something completely of the self, such is something utterly unpoisoned by a societal self, such is the accidental fruit of beauty itself.

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