As I read this installment in the series, I happened upon a quote in the Dana Scully storyline that caught my interest.
When I die, I hope to leave behind more than just a bloodstain. I want my life to mean something… to make the world a better place. And I hope I will have a friend who will care enough to find out what happened to me.
This is a thought that haunts me to this day. When I attended my father’s “memorial service,” the only people who were there were myself and a close friend. It was truly sad that a person could live an entire life and die alone, forgotten, erased. I think that is one of the reasons I write and that I try to do some good in the world. When my time comes and I flash back over my life in that instant you often hear about, I want nothing more than to know that my life somehow mattered, that I contributed in some small way to the betterment of society and that I made a difference in the lives of those I care about.
Thanks for stopping by and taking the time to read my thoughts, and I hope that you all find the strength and courage to do something meaningful.
I’ve been reading the X-Files graphic series for a while now, and as much as I love the X-Files, it was starting to feel a little bland, like they had run out of ideas and were struggling just to keep things going. But when I heard about the Origins series, my interest was rekindled. I felt that the idea of a graphic series exploring the formative years of Mulder and Scully when they were kids had potential.
Anyway, I finally got around to reading the first installment and I was very happy with it. The issue is actually comprised of two stories—one about Mulder when he was a teenager dealing with the abduction of Samantha, and the other about Scully after her family moves to San Diego. The issue has two covers, which I like. You start on one side, read that storyline, then flip the comic over and start reading the other one. Structurally, that really worked for me.
Both stories captured my interest right from the start. There is a great balance of new material combined with characters and references to the original television series. The result is something that is fresh yet familiar. The artwork is good and the panels work well in helping drive the storyline.
On a personal level, I related to this tale because, like a lot of kids, when I was younger I was fascinated with mystery and detective stories, and my friends and I would go around the neighborhood in search of “cases” to solve. And that is the real strength of this graphic series—it taps in to the feeling we had growing up, learning to navigate a world full of mystery and danger. I’m looking forward to reading the rest of this series.
Image Source: Wikipedia
The Tao is like an empty bowl,
Which in being used can never be filled up.
Fathomless, it seems to be the origin of all things.
It blunts all sharp edges,
It unties all tangles,
It harmonizes all lights,
It unites the world into one whole.
Hidden in the deeps,
Yet it seems to exist for ever.
I do not know whose child it is;
It seems to be the common ancestor of all, the father
Reading this passage was a contemplative exercise for me. It seeks to describe something universal and ineffable, which is the source of all existence. We are but tiny molecules in a vast and unknowable realm of existence. It is therefore impossible to answer the question: from what did the beginning of all things come? But to meditate on this makes you humble and puts life into perspective; for me it does, anyway.
It’s very easy to get caught up in the insanity of our daily lives. This passage encourages us to pause, to recognize that in the grand scheme we are fairly insignificant, yet at the same time, because we are part of the universal whole, we are also incredibly important.
Pause, meditate, and have a blessed day.
When all the world recognizes beauty as beauty, this in itself is ugliness.
When all the world recognizes good as good, this in itself is evil.
Indeed, the hidden and the manifest give birth to each other.
Difficult and easy complement each other.
Long and short exhibit each other.
High and low set measure to each other.
Voice and sound harmonize each other.
Back and front follow each other.
Therefore, the Sage manages his affairs without ado,
And spreads his teaching without talking.
He denies nothing to the teeming things.
He rears them, but lays no claim to them.
He does his work, but sets no store by it.
He accomplishes his task, but does not dwell upon it.
And yet it is just because he does not dwell on it
That nobody can ever take it away from him.
(translation: John C. H. Wu)
I see two concepts expressed in this passage. The first half deals with the necessity of opposites in order to maintain a balance in the world. So in the first two lines, the key word is “all.” There is nothing inherently wrong about recognizing beauty or good in the world, the problem occurs when “all the world” sees beauty as beauty and good as good. This creates an imbalance. If all the world only saw and acknowledged the good, that would essentially eradicate all that is not good from the world. But the interesting twist here is that when all recognize the good and seek to not focus on the not-good, it ends up creating an evil, and thereby still maintains the balance. It’s somewhat ironic, similar to the old cliché that the road to hell is paved with good intentions.
The second half of the passage shifts to the contemplative state of the Sage. Here the spiritual seeker is instructed to foster a sense of detachment and to use the concept of the opposite to attain that which the seeker desires. Basically, to be a true seeker, you must stop seeking. As long as you actively search for something, you will not be able to find it. It’s like when you misplace your keys. You search the house, try to retrace your steps, but still you cannot find them. When you finally give up and sit down, the location of the keys becomes clear. This is the same as the wisdom that the Sage hopes to attain. That wisdom will only manifest at the stillest moment, when the searcher stops actively pursuing that which cannot be grasped, but can only be bestowed.