Mixed Bag

     A good thing is often a mixed bag in its beginnings, incomplete and uncertain, its full potential hazy and unprepared. Good soil must be prepared, and ploughed over, and laid out. The ground must be worked and find its alchemy. A good thing in its beginnings is not yet good, because it does not yet fit itself and is full of unembraced contradictions tossing about in antagonism. To find a place for everything within itself is not easy. It must grow into its own, and the antagonisms transformed into creative contradictions that express the wod in the thing. Then, when it has been prepared, when its out-of-control antagonisms have been mediated and moderated, when even in its motion it fits itself, it begins to express its own self-fertility.

            A good thing becomes more and more congruent with itself, in the process of integrating its contradictions. It becomes more whole and thus more wholesome. It becomes complete not in itself but through its relations with the environment, both that of the vicinity and that of the outside. A good thing has found its Archimedean place of leverage, the fulcrum upon which it may do its best.

            All things may be made good, although they do not begin that way. It often takes hard work, and confrontation, and facing things head-on. It takes intelligence and sometimes even genius to figure out just how to make a home for that which is strange, so it may become familiar in its weirdness and contribute as it genuinely longs to. Every good thing was once a mixed bag. But in time, with love and good work, it flourishes. This is the way of the world that our lore mythopoetically narrates.