The golden mean lies between extremities.
Humbly resting between the proud and the shameful, it means well.
Courageously existing between the reckless and the cowardly, it faithfully steps forward.
Obsession and indifference forget their essence: play.
Poise is always there, a constant choice, between searching and settling.
The golden mean doesn’t have an opinion to bathe in or even to share unless it’s wise to speak.
The golden mean sways but never sacrifices its inner integrity.
The golden mean integrates every approach but One.
The golden mean is certainly not an average; rather, its goodness oscillates around the norm.
Outside of it.
Beside it.
Inside it.
But certainly not, it.
An Ich-Du, more or less.
The golden mean never rests, nor completely moves.
Arising through the vapid world, resting below the mighty, it falls to prevail.
A glowing spark in the distance…
Mellowed brightness outlasts.
A bellowed hum nonetheless.
Smooth vibrations.
More stunning than the collapse of the cosmos,
Bigger than the Big Bang.
A kaleidoscope dream.
Aristotle’s Libra.
Confucius’s Doctrine of the Mean.
The Buddhist’s Middle Way.
A peregrine’s poise.
Tao.
Simply clever names for brilliant disguise.
The golden mean is the silent action of being who you are and doing what is Right.
It’s an attitude of becoming.
A radiating essence; pure potential, untouched ignition, a dissident spark.
It is –
There,
Here,
Now.
All you have to do is knock.
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Image Source: heiwa4126 Flickr (Thank You!)
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