Neither White Nor Black #146
I think I tend to fall into black-and-white thinking.
It's all or nothing.
If it's not 100 points, it's 0 points.
But in reality,between white and black,
there are countless gradations.
I end up overlooking those nameless colors
before I even realize it.
I have a bit of a perfectionist streak.
Even when writing articles like this, since I'm writing it,
I find myself wanting to put out something perfect.
Something with every word and phrase just right, nothing more and nothing less.
I don't think that's a bad thing in itself.
But the problem is whether it's truly "perfect."
Even if I think it's perfect,
whether it is for the reader
is another story.
True perfection might be something
that can never be reached, no matter how far you go.
So, is anything that isn't perfect worth 0 points?
I'm sure that's not the case.
It must be somewhere
between 100 points and 0 points.
Not a choice between white or black,
but somewhere on a single line.
In truth, that's all it is.
But ambiguous things are hard to see.
Things that aren't clear
make me feel uneasy and restless somewhere,
and I end up wanting to divide them into white or black.
Perhaps people become extreme precisely when they lack the capacity to accept that ambiguity.
If I could just accept that ambiguity and imperfection
as they are,
I might actually be able to know many more colors.
A drawing made with a pencil
is drawn only in white and black.
But through shading,
many colors are born.
It is precisely because it is neither pure white nor pure black
that depth is born there.
I think people are surely the same.
When I can allow myself to remain imperfect,
I can begin to live in the colors between white and black.
Maybe I don't even need names like gray or ash.
I don't know what it is.
But it is a "color" that certainly exists.
If I could just accept the existence of such a color,
even one without a name.
My own vague,
undefined existence
might also be recognized
as one color in this world.
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