I have realized my reality lacked such an important ingredient. A life without compassion remains two dimensional, colorless except for black and white. If I am to play the Fool, then I shall play her well and feel my heart swell for even the most vile and deject.
Alchemists were fools once. They know the ingredient that turn copper into gold is not in a compound, but in the tempering of atoms.
For temperance, one needs both discernment and compassion. You cannot have one without the other, and judgement is only a precursor, a graduation from bestial instincts. We must comfort ourselves to have been gifted judgement which removes us from an unrestrained impulse, unconcerned with the feelings of others, its only drive to satiate its own hunger.
But do not applaud yourself for remaining there. Judgement is a door. Not a place of rest. There is no repose found in the Intellect. It is transitory, like all other states before.
I cannot anymore rest in the corridor of right and wrong. For I see now its mirage. Pleasure and pain, the push and pull of sensations bound to one another by Law. Come again, let me dance with the tides servant only to change.
I feel the hook in me and like a fish out of water, I shake mercilessly. I am being dragged from the known to something else now, unknown. And where there was no trust before, I feel the bloom of something foreign.
I do not know the path before me, but I walk nonetheless. Not with a head hung low, full of self-pity.
I walk with my eyes parallel to all that is felt but that I still cannot yet see.
One day. After crossing perimeters to discover the Earth is round. One day, the grasping and holding will make way for beholding.