So much of my life has been focused on parsing down - trying to cut things into the smallest pieces.
I love that stuff. Cleaning up, you know? Destruction, in a sense. Negation. It can really make you into something else.
I see now why Proust would refer to the two forces as “Art” and “Habit.”
Art is that which revolutionizes - which either renews, reinterprets, or reveals some form of life which is good and fresh. Habit is that which entombs that which is small and dead.
Many times I have sought habit in order to banish chaos from my life. “Hell Yeah or No” - it’s a strong antidote.
But we must retain the artistic spirit, even in those habitual forms. Life is free, and we mustn’t forget that it is beautiful, and fresh, and always present in all things.