Is perfection an answer but not the correct one because perfection can’t be determined only assumed? Would actual perfection be all lined up in a boring way? And in perfection are there no mistakes ever, therefore no variety no ability to change radically or make an error?
Is perfection in the eye of the beholder? Wouldn’t real perfection be the opposite? Would it be an individual thing? Something with flaws and able to change and adapt? Is it impossible for even the definition of perfection to be perfect? Or can only the definition of perfection be perfect? Can something be perfectly flawed? Are most things perfectly flawed?
And on and on go the words, ideas, thoughts, and dreams and it’s a wonderful ride if the basic necessities are supplied, but what about the deeper parts of my nature — the being, the parts that I share with life in general, the life which I feel I control?
Are creativity and awareness hidden away under my claim of ownership and control? Does the addition of language come along and take over the being as a natural process?
Is there a way to shake off the comfort of the captain’s chair to sense the early and ancient freedom? Is the way not through struggle but relaxation: the relaxation of the mind via the relaxation of language? But isn’t there a struggle to relax because of a fear of the unknown and even the death of me, the identity, the boss, the chooser?
If all searching is individual, can it be anything other than perfect? Is it that this can’t be determined, or does perfection have to have flaws too small to be noticed?