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Dienekes's blog: "Keirsey"

created on 07/18/2007  |  http://fubar.com/keirsey/b104354

Mist Me

You are the eruption of orchids that lights a dark night. Or the lyrical kiss of blue a de Kooning brushstroke brings to life. You are the sudden breeze that cools a hot day, and the soothing sound of a running stream. You are a waterfall, a rainbow, a four-leafed clover. You are a snowflake, a quill, and the joy behind a child's laughter. You are a caryatid, a shooting star, a widow's mite. A hope, a pearl, and a nymph in a forest of satyrs. You are a white sapphire amidst the grains of sand on the River Seine. You are a valentine long forgotten in the secret drawer of an antique chest. You are an ivory and onyx cameo that once graced Cleopatra's neck. You are anise, a Darjeeling garden, and carnelian light. You are a huckleberry, a Jasmine flower, and licorice spice. As absolute as the heavens; as infinite as the Universe. Celestial is your beauty. Mesmerizing is your gaze. An ancient duenna from a far away place. And you have voyaged all this way to Mist me with your embrace.

Ode to the Cynic

If I'm going to do something that could be provocative or unconventionally relevant, like getting out of this mess I find myself in, I have to be prepared to put myself in a place where I feel unsafe, not completely in control. I have no fear of failure whatsoever, because often out of that uncertainty something is salvaged, something that is worthwhile comes about. Progress is not possible without failure. And each failure is a lesson learned. Unnecessary failures are the ones where I try to second guess my purpose and little comes of that situation except inner conflict, a kind of inward humiliation. We don't live in a world where we have to follow the rules, where decisions are based strictly on yes and no answers. We live in a world where we're able to pretend to adhere to their rules while we play by ours. Greatness never comes from accepting convention, but from believing in possibilities. I don't believe the world will ever see anything like us again; nothing like the tension between our freewheeling attitude and the more conservative tactics of the rest of the world; nothing like the passionate bond between us; nothing like the intensity of our united-front ferocity; and nothing like our self-aware sense of the forces working for and against us. When you're done attempting to apply boundaries in your mind, try to realize there's a limited amount of things you are sure about, but an infinite amount of things you can't be sure about; so before you act or elaborate on your motive or a train of thought, it might be good to think about where that train is headed. Towards an answer, or away from it. Don't always expect to find answers, but aspire to ask and answer questions. Don't try to understand everything. Just understand everything is there.

Soul Alone

Let's burrow down to the soul. Past the crust and the mantle, through the outer core, all the way to the inner core, where we can calmly sort through the dissonance of life, or toss a cursory thought into the depths of the imagination and change everything. Let's turn ourselves into human drill bits and make the idea of going inside our minds as quaint and distant as watching strangers from a satellite. Therein lies a big part of the story, but it is a story with many parts. The tale is one of sorrow and grief, for no man is a prophet in his own mind. Yet that synopsis barely scratches the corrugated surface of this bumpy parable. Relating to the Byzantine complexities of this fable may be contagious. So putting on the spectacles of linear thinking in expectation of finding the answer to everything might signifiy inner blindness. My view of the world IS different, for better and for worse. I am naturally attracted to symbolism. I can find symbolism in even the most mundane of things. Everything is a metaphor of something else. There is depth even in simplicity – reasoning by extrapolation. I am an old soul to my own ferrous core, full of aphorisms, guile, and advice. I see the whole world and not just my place in it. I live with the authority of a man who knows his place and the abandon of a man whose time is running short. Yet, I never seem to lose my sense of wonder. Some have said that I see life through rose-colored glasses. It's as though I live at the edge of a looking-glass world where mundane objects come to life, where flora and fauna take on near-human qualities. Ergo, I have the ability to see good in almost anyone or anything. My extreme depth of feeling is often hidden, even from myself, until circumstances evoke an impassioned response. Of course, not all of life is rosy, and I am not exempt from the same disappointments and frustrations common to humanity. I tend to have a sense of failed competence, and struggle with the issue of my own ethical perfection, in other words: performance of duty for the greater cause. 'Feeling' is caught in the approach and/or avoidance bind between concern both for people and for All Creatures Great and Small, and a psycho-magnetic repulsion from the same. The "object," be it a person or a mere representation of an organism, is valued only to the degree that the object contains some measure of the inner Essence or greater Good. Doing a good deed, for example, may provide intrinsic satisfaction which is only secondary to the greater good of striking a blow against Man's Inhumanity to Mankind. I once read somewhere that, human beings, who are almost unique in having the ability to learn from their mistakes, are also remarkable for their apparent disinclination to do so. We all know that thoughts turn into words and words can be used as weapons. But guns aren't dangerous until the trigger is pulled. So before you act on a train of thought, make sure you know where that train is headed, because deep down inside, we all wear a crown of thorns upon a liars throne, but it doesn't mean we don't dream or feel or hope. A murmur impetuously surges through the thousands of thoughts lining the corridors of my mind. And in the midst of all the mayhem and madness, thoughts stand still for the elitist; hovering over the barely controlled chaos like a guillotine blade, allowing clarity to emerge. And unbeknownst to me, I realize I live with the serenity of a man at peace. Suddenly a new hope rises from the ashes of hindsight to twist the tale to a new proscenium I was originally intended for in the first place.

Keirsey

If I do not want what you want, please try not to tell me that my want is wrong. Or if I believe other than you, at least pause before you correct my view. Or if my emotion is less than yours, or more, given the same circumstances, try not to ask me to feel more strongly or weakly. Or yet if I act, or fail to act, in the manner of your design for action, let me be. I do not, for the moment at least, ask you to understand me. That will come only when you are willing to give up changing me into a copy of you. I may be your spouse, your parent, your offsping, your friend, or your colleague. If you will allow me any of my own wants, or emotions, or beliefs, or actions, then you open yourself, so that some day these ways of mine might not seem so wrong, and might finally appear to you as right -- for me. To put up with me is the first step to understanding me. Not that you embrace my ways as right for you, but that you are no longer irritated or disappointed with me for my seeming waywardness. And in understanding me you might come to prize my differences from you, and, far from seeking to change me, preserve and even nurture those differences. --Dr. David Keirsey
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