τι γαρ ωφελειται ανθρωπος εαν τον κοσμον ολον κερδηση την δε ψυχην αυτου ζημιωθη η τι δωσει ανθρωπος ανταλλαγμα της ψυχης αυτου

Thirty spokes join one hub
The wheel’s use comes from emptiness

Fragility. Nothing is really very solid, is it? I remember seeing a poster during the last recession, which had the slogan We are all only four pay cheques away from being homeless. Probably the lack of four pay cheques, but I don’t recall the image. Nor probably the slogan correctly. But enough to give the intent. The intent that your hold on what you possess is slim. But we aren’t defined by the car we drive, by the house we live in, nor the job we do. But we cling to these tokens. And losing them would be more than tough. That is, things get piled on and on, but then again, there is always something else, but would that give you enough to still be where you are? What could I put up with just to smooth my head? What would I do to sooth my soul?

Clay is fired to make a pot
The pot’s use comes from emptiness

Fragility. Nothing lasts forever. Nothing ever changes without any pain. Those around us can turn without warning, those we care about can vanish without a trace. (I would use some tie-it-up-with-the-last-paragraph slogan, something like We are all only one affair away from wrecking our marriage, but you know, and all.) While Cassandra and I are more than used to each other, we are still strong. The fragility here is that she is not here as I type this.

Windows and doors are cut to make a room
The room’s use comes from emptiness

Fragility. Wisest is she who knows she knows nothing. But she is also broke, and wonders about the future. Oh to be independantly wealthy. If she isn’t by now, chances are she won’t be in the future. What would happen, where would my progeny end up, if Cassandra and I were no longer? I would much prefer them to stay here, and to stay together. Time to look at the will again, I think.

Therefore,
    Having leads to profit,
    Not having leads to use.
    Wu chih i wei yung

Fragility. It is odd. I remember when my offspring were born, the smallness and helplessness of them. And the feeling of well, panic almost. For every day that goes by, the panic decreased, as they thrived and lived. Sure, now there are other concerns for them, given this despicable country and its intrusive State, but soon enough they will have to fend for themselves. Well, of course I will help them. They are, after all, and always will be, mine.

I see the wisdom of Levi there. Ever the comfort of the poor. That would probably explain why it is my favourite line from the New Covenant. Not all messages are hidden.

Fleeting, transient and small