I was watching an episode of the Tudors when the inspiration for this post struck. Its really odd, actually, how random it is that such things happen. And I know it certainly doesn't come at my bidding. I frequently cast about for something worthwhile to say, but, there it is. I was watching a cable show about Henry VIII, and suddenly I'm musing about the notion of perfection, how we yearn for it, strive after it, but never fully achieve it.
So, here goes.
Like so many things about us complex, difficult, and often contradictory humans, we have an ineluctable urge for the perfected, the divine, the absolute. We want our partner of life to be the finest human alive. We want the food we eat to be the very tastiest, most nutritious, and satisfying. We want our entertainments to fill our eyes, our minds, our hearts, and our souls to the brim. We want our work to be not only fulfilling intellectually, but financially, to an extraordinary degree; and we want the clothing we clap on our backs to be flawlessly constructed, perfectly fitted, and sublimely well suited to us.
We are ever, and always disappointed. Unless of course we are one of those rarified few who can afford to march into Dior, and order clothes anytime we wish. Yet, we still strive. We still yearn. We still dream. Why? What is it about us that simply cannot accept what is there in front of us?
I know for my own self, that I spend a great deal of time thinking about gratitude, and being effusive about the multiple gifts my life has brought to me. But do I crave other, greater things? Of course I do. Nearly all of us do, in one way or another.
That inescapable desire to be greater than we are, is a part of us that is a central factor of our very genome; literally, I believe. Not all living creatures have the gift of cognizance; but we do. And as such, we have the ability to see beyond what we know now, what we have now, and dream of greater things. But what makes that internal process powerful, is that we have the ability to manipulate the world around us to make those dreams happen in real physical terms. Those internal dreams have created the greatest works of mankind, over thousands of years of our history; some of which still stand, as markers to our desire for perfected existence.
But, in this blog, my purpose is somewhat smaller, though is a sense, even larger. I say smaller, and larger, because its such a personal thing, and yet affects every single one of the nearly 8 billion of us on this small sphere we call our home place.
Every day, no matter how limited our resources, we venture out into the world to do our labors, whatever they may be, and make ourselves seen in the world. And almost all of us make an attempt, to make that seeing a good one, and hopefully a perfect one. We all want that, that perfect image of ourselves to give out to the world. We all want that internalized person, that US that we cannot adequately express in words, or deeds, to be visible to those around us; because in the end, what do we want? We want to be understood, appreciated, and above all other considerations, loved.
That, consideration, that point, that essential thing, is the center from which every single aspect of the Attire language spreads; our innate, and inescapable desire to be loved. Our urge to be loved, and lovable, manifests in endless ways. We might realize we have beauty, strength, industry, intellect, power, or spirit. Each, and all of those can manifest in the Attire language in radically different ways. Yet every one of them distills down to one final, and undeniable point. We all want love. Whether we get that love from a special significant equal person, a child, a classroom of students, a god, a workforce of employees, or a nation full of subjects, is immaterial. The substantive point is that we want love. And we will, any of us, do whatever we have to, to get it.
As a result of that, the Attire language has morphed, spread, expanded, and globalized so that each of us can most effectively get to the love we crave so dearly. What makes me sad, is that the media have relentlessly promoted the idea that only women who are white, thin, and rich, and men who are buff, young, and similarly rich, deserve to receive such love. So all of us, shorter, thicker, older, darker, make our uncertain way through this morass, hoping to find a back door that we can slip through that will take us to the goal post of love. Men torment themselves at the gym, and agonize about the right jeans to wear. Don't think its only us gay boys who do that. Get your man drunk, and get him talking, he'll tell you. Women deny themselves every treat to fit into one size smaller, and endure the pain of high heels, all for one reason. Love. Call it sexual love, or sensual love, or just plain love. Its the beginning and end of everything we do, all day, every day.
So when you go out into the world, as of course you will, remember, that every single human soul you see is searching for the same thing as you; they just have different ways of trying to get there. And thinking about that is a good long way towards understanding, acceptance, and guess what? LOVE.
As a snarky side note, it is the last laugh of human reality that the wealthy, and powerful do not have more happiness, or love, only more stuff, which mostly ends up being a burden.
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