It’s tough venturing through a forest. A surprise every corner more likely than not unpleasant. We modern humans rate comfort above all else. We can live without love but not without comfort, we can venture into a shrill hysterical fight so long as the ac is peacefully humming and the bai had cooked sumptuous food and we have a soft bed with a comforter to sneak into once the tears dry up. That’s our nature, we cannot take too much of love but comfort, we can always take some more. That’s why we try to prune a navigable way through the forest, slowly, gently, patiently, we get used to the cobwebs, they even start seeming photographic.
But the biggest fallacy of human thinking is the presumption that we know exactly what we want. We want the thrill of the forest but only so much, like a 10 second scary amusement park ride that plunges us into zero gravity but there’s an infallible safety harness that we know of. We draw parallel lines through the forest with nothing more than our instinct and intuition.
So we prune the flowers thinking they are weeds. We trim a bit here and a little there. And lo! before we notice, we turn it into a garden. The ugly uncomfortable roots are buried too deep for us to see, we know they cannot survive without water.
And now it’s familiar. We do not notice that the very thing that drew us in is slowly dissipating away but now there’s that old friend, comfort.
Lest we weed too much and sanitize the garden now – it will become indistinguishable from a spic and span 100% germ free hospital room. The walls will gleam and all we will see is mirrors, our own face talking back to us.