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After reading Laughing Boy I find myself often thinking of the power of negative thoughts, and of the Navajo Path of Beauty that is similar in many aspects to Eastern philosophies.
And it gets me to thinking and wondering why life breeds for and produces beauty. Does life make itself beautiful for some creator, or for itself, when it finally develops the eyes and ears to see and hear and appreciate itself? The beauty that is and awaits its own awakening?
"With a place of hunger in me I wander, Food will not fill it, Aya-ah, beautiful. With an empty place in me I wander, Nothing will fill it, Aya-ah, beautiful. With a place of sorrow in me I wander, Time will not end it, Aya-ah, beautiful. With a place of loneliness in me I wander, No one will fill it, Aya-ah, beautiful. Forever alone, forever in sorrow I wander, Forever empty, forever hungry I wander, With the sorrow of great beauty I wander, With the emptyness of great beauty I wander, Never alone, never weeping, never empty
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