"Nothing we see or hear is perfect. But right there in the imperfection is perfect reality." (Shunryu Suzuki, 1904-1971)
Many of you know, Plus Ultra was the motto of my high school. In English, it can be translated as "Over the top." It's kinda ridiculous because in Latin, ultra means, well, ultra, there's nothing beyond ultra. It's analogous to saying, Be more unique. No. You're either one of a kind or you're not.
Many of my teachers expected us to understand Plus Ultra as, "You're best isn't good enough." This could be discouraging, but to me and many of my classmates, it meant "Never stop getting better."
My personal practice is with people who always want to get better. The people I engage are from diverse walks of life and there's no job or role concentration in their pursuit of better. What's common is we're all doing stuff that's hard, and we want to keep our eyes on raising the value.
Notwithstanding plus ultra's farcicle potential from its literal meaning of over-the-top, my best isn't good enough, is strangely liberating. The destination, over the top, is unattainable. The process: getting better, allows for imperfection, setbacks, disappointments, missed opportunities, failures. All those things are learnings: information that informs the process of getting better.
Then I went to college where the school's motto was Amore ac Studio. Amore is love, ac sort of means "and" but "et" is ordinary "and" in Latin. "Ac" is a pumped up "and" as in "and wait, there's more." Studio you have to dig deep to know it means to go at something with diligence and enthusiasm
Love with diligent enthusiasm. Yes! That's a motto an 18-year-old can embrace.
May I note the embrace of love with enthusiasm was multifaceted and included the embrace of art, literature, and science. Just saying. A syncretic embrace with love and enthusiasm of ancient wisdom with fresh ideas brings us today's post.
That year, I learned the intricate and numinous Persian weavings in the Textile Museum in D.C. included an intentional flaw as essential to the weaver's art. The weaver paid homage to their best not being good enough; that only Allah is capable of perfection. In truth, I've learned since then, in a hand-knotted piece as large and intricate as that, the weaver can point out unintentional flaws. The intentional flaw embraces the weaver's mortal limits.
Wisdom requires the embrace of paradox. Going at something with love powered by diligent enthusiasm ends with stumbling over our mortal limits. The Kelsey Museum of Archaeology at the University of Michigan has an online exhibit, "Less Than Perfect."
From the Museum's statement: "The objects exhibited here allow us to consider how and why artists in India, the Navajo Nation, and Japan added asymmetries and other disruptions to their works." I borrowed the epigraph from the exhibit to begin this piece.
May you experience joy and satisfaction as you aim for over the top -- with love powered by diligent enthusiasm. May you embrace the imperfection, setbacks, disappointments, missed opportunities, failures, and stumbles, with grace and humility; and see them also as the gifts of our mortality woven into the work of art that is our life.
Warm regards,
Francis Sopper