What you see is what you intend to do about it
In his autobiography, An Anthropology or Everyday life, anthropologist Edward Hall quotes a friend, "What you see is what you intend to do about it." This is a profoundly simple statement about the ways we limit our vision. How many things we can’t let ourselves see because we can’t do anything about them: things that need mending, repairing, repainting, suffering, ugliness. What we pretend not to see doesn’t go away (where would it go?), but we do. As we cut ourselves off from ugliness, things that are painful to look at, we also cut ourselves off from beauty. It takes courage to start to look at what we do not see, to be willing to see with more curiosity and less certainty.
It seems that there is a very specific area in the brain which could be called poetic memory and which records what has charmed us, what has moved us, what gives our life its beauty.
Attention is the rarest and purest form of generosity... It is, in short, the subject of the history of the Grail. Only a predestined being has the ability to ask another: what is your torment? And he doesn't have it when he enters life. He has to go through years of dark night.
Try not to become a man of success, but rather try to become a man of value.
Almost everyone in the world is self-absorbed within themselves. They regard themselves as the most important beings. People rarely speak bad about themselves. They are the heroes in their own story no matter how much entanglement of lies and bullshit is needed to achieve a gratifying and satisfying version of the tale.
By observing their actions, you could trace back their thought pattern, intentions, interest, and vision. Stop for a moment and analyze the action. Stop caring about what they say, what they think about how the world should be, how everyone can execute their best, or why the world is so messed up. They speak whatever hell it takes to sound amazing. Listen to their actions. Listen only and only to their actions.
We all have forests on our minds. Forests unexplored, unending. Each one of us gets lost in the forest, every night, alone.