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|One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star. -Nietzsche|
May 19, 2011
After the Blossom: the Wilt
The sun caressed her carefree 18 year old face. Her clear eyes sparkled playfully, bright against milky skin needing no make up. With a smile full of joy, she had effortlessly peaked. She would never again be so beautiful.
In traditional societies, a man would take a young bride and go off to make something of himself in the world, nourishing the needs of their united life inspired by the instincts a young bride provokes. It's a simple formula of nature, without which men have little interest performing superfluous work, but for the sake of a beautiful woman any amount of effort is easy and seems worthwhile.
This chemistry goes awry when nature's dance is subverted. No longer in tune with seasons, instincts, and purpose, women spend their youth and freshness studying, sitting in cubicles, and making a succession of errors in judgment that can never be undone. Men, often finding no young brides interested in making a life, go their way alone into the world or drop out for another decade of adolescence, both rational choices in a barren environment.
Modern man and woman both miss out on what they could have created together. He becomes hardened and indifferent from austerity, and she has spent her innocence, charm, and beauty to yield lead rather than gold. It seemed there might be no consequences for defying nature's eternal rhythm, but the cost was the brutality of mutual loss.
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