excellence
ex-cel-lent adj. 1. possessing superior merit. 2. remarkably good.
i am of the opinion that moderation should not be overdone. the phrase "everything in moderation" speaks to me of mediocrity. it eliminates the possibility of excellence. Excellence is essential to the good health and growth of our spirits.
having said that, i must elaborate on the concept of excellence. contrary to popular belief, excellence need not cost a lot of money, or be available only to 'winners'. it is, however, costly. excellence requires from us commitment, intimacy, and constancy. regardless of its medium of expression, excellence requires many hours of our time, intimate knowledge of the tools, techniques, and materials required, and dedicated hard work. we tend to think of creative endeavors when we think of excellence - art, music, dance, literature, craftsmanship ... sports is another area where we see its application easily. and those of us who love to eat, see excellence in the way the food we eat is prepared and presented.
The same ideas apply to other, less obvious things, like, for instance, love... not just romantic love, but familial love, and the love of friends and neighbors. community... and living a sustainable lifestyle. these things can't exist without commitment, intimacy, and constancy. they can't exist without the hard work that alone produces excellence.
the salad made from vegetables grown organically in the garden out my back door is a very fine example of excellence. and the jars of spaghetti sauce from the same source, that glow with last summer's sunshine at me every time i open the door to my pantry on a snowy winter's eve... excellent! i've labored for years learning how to grow things naturally, and built my soil up from what was once a gravel driveway where not even the quackgrass would grow, to something that can feed 14 foot sunflowers and equally tall tipis heavy with runner beans, in a semi-arid, and nearly sub-arctic climate. excellent! salad made from botanical frankensteins, shipped half-way across the continent, blowing burned hydrocarbon emissions every mile of the way, and rotting in my fridge a few days after i've bought them, despite all artificial prior-to-sale attempts to increase their shelf life, are definitely NOT excellent. i suspect the time will come when they're generally understood to be poisonous.
the irish band i play with, practicing around the kitchen table, banjo and boron (irish drum) leaning against the wall, guitars strumming, accordian sighing along, my fiddle moaning a melancholoy harmony in a lament, or trying to break the speed of sound in a jig... changing the way we do a tune every time we run through it... trading tips on raising teenagers or grandchildren, or tomatoes... excellent! far from perfect, but most excellent! the music i listen to on the radio, or on CD's, is good, some of it even exquisite, and quite possibly excellent for the maker of the music, but it can't compare to the personal excellence, the excellent imperfection of the music i make myself.
a new friend, no matter how clever or beautiful, or gifted, is not excellent. a friendship takes many years and many heartaches to achieve excellence. friendship can't be fragile and shellac - coated to keep it bright and shiny. the good ones are scuffed and faded, made of sturdy materials that continue to be functional and comforting and rich long after they've become frayed and worn, and a few seams have popped. excellent!
moderation should be carefully moderated. too much of it leads to the grey, invisible death of everything colorful and bright and strong in our lives. of excellence.
having just downed the last drop of my second glass of blackberry cider, as i have tomorrow off, and am celebrating, i will now confess to blogging under the influence.
i am of the opinion that moderation should not be overdone. the phrase "everything in moderation" speaks to me of mediocrity. it eliminates the possibility of excellence. Excellence is essential to the good health and growth of our spirits.
having said that, i must elaborate on the concept of excellence. contrary to popular belief, excellence need not cost a lot of money, or be available only to 'winners'. it is, however, costly. excellence requires from us commitment, intimacy, and constancy. regardless of its medium of expression, excellence requires many hours of our time, intimate knowledge of the tools, techniques, and materials required, and dedicated hard work. we tend to think of creative endeavors when we think of excellence - art, music, dance, literature, craftsmanship ... sports is another area where we see its application easily. and those of us who love to eat, see excellence in the way the food we eat is prepared and presented.
The same ideas apply to other, less obvious things, like, for instance, love... not just romantic love, but familial love, and the love of friends and neighbors. community... and living a sustainable lifestyle. these things can't exist without commitment, intimacy, and constancy. they can't exist without the hard work that alone produces excellence.
the salad made from vegetables grown organically in the garden out my back door is a very fine example of excellence. and the jars of spaghetti sauce from the same source, that glow with last summer's sunshine at me every time i open the door to my pantry on a snowy winter's eve... excellent! i've labored for years learning how to grow things naturally, and built my soil up from what was once a gravel driveway where not even the quackgrass would grow, to something that can feed 14 foot sunflowers and equally tall tipis heavy with runner beans, in a semi-arid, and nearly sub-arctic climate. excellent! salad made from botanical frankensteins, shipped half-way across the continent, blowing burned hydrocarbon emissions every mile of the way, and rotting in my fridge a few days after i've bought them, despite all artificial prior-to-sale attempts to increase their shelf life, are definitely NOT excellent. i suspect the time will come when they're generally understood to be poisonous.
the irish band i play with, practicing around the kitchen table, banjo and boron (irish drum) leaning against the wall, guitars strumming, accordian sighing along, my fiddle moaning a melancholoy harmony in a lament, or trying to break the speed of sound in a jig... changing the way we do a tune every time we run through it... trading tips on raising teenagers or grandchildren, or tomatoes... excellent! far from perfect, but most excellent! the music i listen to on the radio, or on CD's, is good, some of it even exquisite, and quite possibly excellent for the maker of the music, but it can't compare to the personal excellence, the excellent imperfection of the music i make myself.
a new friend, no matter how clever or beautiful, or gifted, is not excellent. a friendship takes many years and many heartaches to achieve excellence. friendship can't be fragile and shellac - coated to keep it bright and shiny. the good ones are scuffed and faded, made of sturdy materials that continue to be functional and comforting and rich long after they've become frayed and worn, and a few seams have popped. excellent!
moderation should be carefully moderated. too much of it leads to the grey, invisible death of everything colorful and bright and strong in our lives. of excellence.
having just downed the last drop of my second glass of blackberry cider, as i have tomorrow off, and am celebrating, i will now confess to blogging under the influence.
posted by grannyfiddler at 7:59 PM
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