Wisdom and Me

I asked for Wisdom,
And I got this artsy hippie chick…

Whenever Wisdom shows me bit of truth, I start turning it over and over like one of those Rubik’s cubes, trying to get each side to be all the same color. Wisdom lets me go on like this for a while, and then she whispers:

“You know, it’s really prettier when the colors are all mixed up.”

“But if it’s all mixed up, how can I tell when I’ve got it right?”, I ask.

And she says:

“Truth isn’t supposed to be right. It’s supposed to be beautiful.”

I think about that for a moment. And then I ask:

“But which way is the most beautiful? The best beautiful?”

“The best beautiful?” she giggles. “There’s no best beautiful. There’s only beautiful.”

“Okay, so then – there’s only one right way to make it beautiful. Right?”, I ask.

Wisdom shakes her head and sighs:

“You’re not getting this, are you…?”

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