"nothing is static, everything is evolving, everything is falling apart"

The only patterns that exist out there in the chaos are the ones our human brains look for and assign arbitrary meanings to… but maybe that’s enough.
Maybe something is more beautiful on the authority that we want it to be beautiful; that we need it to be. If we perceive beauty, then it really is—the only thing I can trust is my own perception anyway (if even that).

We westerners look at the historical Christ to solidify our Christian faith, yet in Eastern traditions, they could care less about the historical Gautama Buddha. It doesn’t matter if he was truly all they say of him, the message in his sutras is the same regardless.

Would “love your neighbor as yourself,” mean anything different if Christ wasn’t actually the son of God?

Life is way too beautiful to ignore—which is exactly what we are doing when we sweat the small stuff, like “intended meaning.” There is no intended meaning behind the leaves outside my window, and that makes them no less important in my book. Perception is meaning.
The substance of style.
One thing after the other.
Beauty and darkness in the eye of the beholder; our post-modern world.
It can be so beautiful.

It is what it is, now get over it.
(And I used to love the movie Signs…)