Falling in love is not an extension of one's limits or boundaries; it is a partial and temporary collapse of them.
M. Scott PeckRead
Life is difficult. This is a great truth, one of the greatest truths. It is a great truth because once we truly see this truth, we transcend it.
Interpretation
Life presents many challenges, but acknowledging this can help us rise above them.
M. Scott Peck suggests that recognizing the inherent difficulties of life is a profound realization. This acknowledgment serves as a pivotal point from which individuals can grow and transcend their struggles, ultimately leading to personal development and deeper understanding of lifeβs complexities.
In practice
In a speech about resilience, one might say, 'As M. Scott Peck wisely noted, life is difficult, but recognizing this truth can lead us to greater strength.'
Falling in love is not an extension of one's limits or boundaries; it is a partial and temporary collapse of them.
Listening well is an exercise of attention and by necessity hard work. It is because they do not realize this or because they are not willing to do the work that most people do not listen well.
If your goal is to avoid pain and escape suffering, I would not advise you to seek higher levels of consciousness or spiritual evolution.
All my life I used to wonder what I would become when I grew up. Then, about seven years ago, I realized that I was never going to grow up--that growing is an ever ongoing process.
When we love someone our love becomes demonstrable or real only through our exertion - through the fact that for that someone (or for ourself) we take an extra step or walk an extra mile. Love is not effortless. To the contrary, love is effortful.
An unconscious, gentle process whereby people who want to be loving attempt to be so by telling little white lies, by withholding some of the truth about themselves and their feelings in order to avoid conflict. Pseudocommunity is conflict-avoiding; true community is conflict-resolving.
You think when you wake up in the mornin yesterday don't count. But yesterday is all that does count. What else is there? Your life is made out of the days itβs made out of. Nothin else.
Life is a promise; fulfill it.
We spend our time searching for security and hate it when we get it.
Most people think that a widow is inhabiting some elegiac world of - it's like Mozart's 'Requiem Mass.' You know, it's very beautiful and elevated thoughts and some measure of dignity. I didn't have that experience at all. I had one pratfall after another.
Iβve been things and I've seen places.
What can we do but keep on breathing in and out, modest and willing, and in our places?
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