A Poet's Journal: January 15th, 2015
Sharpened my knives today; it is fulfilling to see them cut clean and though it is useless to continue working them, it always seems they could still be sharper. There is nothing better than knowing a job has been done well and nothing more terrifying than believing you could have done more. The place at which we find someone of great measure, who knows when things are done, and leaves them to be when there is nothing wrong with them, is no larger than the edge of a blade; and once this blade becomes dull the surface widens imperceptibly, but enough to leave us wavering in our judgement. The problem is we have no stone on which to grind our thoughts and must merely live in the world, letting the events that pass by evoke a certain means to refine our vision. We are not always right, our eye is not always penetrating, but the world is always so. If we can get to the bottom of things without being burdened by the dullness of past action or future involvement, then this is the ultimate touchstone.