Perfect

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In the midst of din, the perfect silence;
in the midst of cacaphony, the perfect song;
in the midst of friends, the perfect isolation;
in the midst of wisdom, the perfect ignorance;
in the midst of certainty, the perfect confusion;
in the midst of mirth, the perfect solitude;
in the midst of inebriation, the perfect sobriety;
in the midst of vigour, the perfect lassitude;
in the midst of failure, the perfect success;
in the midst of sleep, the perfect awakening;
in the midst of ruin, the perfect beginning;
in the midst of life, the perfect death.
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Cooking

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Cooking often gives me a lesson in the way in which "real" science must be done...some basic theory, some experience, some experimentation, some intuition...
How much of each to use no one really knows... Yet with time each cook discovers for himself a sort of mix that works for him...

An Unequal Game

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What is me,
I ponder, ponder...fail to grasp...

A summation of faculties and senses..?
A package of genes battling to survive..?
A set of values, principles and ideals..?
Or maybe just a combination of circumstances and conditions...

My own self, its mysteries and depths,
Its enigmas, novelties and vicissitudes,
I know not, I fully comprehend not...

Yet in this lifetime...in this universe,
This obscure, perpetually-rebelling rag-tag army of me is all I possess,
It is all I have on my side in the game;
This game of pleading, coaxing, bullying or tricking Reality, whatever works,
Into revealing the “meaning of it all”...