The concept of a whole person is an enigma that evolves within a culture . Often it is not a transitive concept and can only be conjuncted within it's social setting . In fact the realities of social fragmentation make most all concepts of a whole person universally inapplicable .

Literature is often a good tool for developing an understanding of a culture and it's inclinations . In a cultures folk tales , plays , and fictions you find authors making a deliberate attempt to portray the basic dramas of their society .

Greek myths are a vivid example of this ; they are literally frought with characterizations . In their development these multitudes of characters weave into an elaborate tapestry that depicts the developing Greek moral ethic . The intricasies of the analogous content are brought across in a multitude of forms . Names were very important and a major force in clarifying the concepts being presented . The multitudes of characters portray a multifaceted understanding of the human psyche . The chauvinistic banality of their culture and it's gods is graphically depicted against the backdrop of their developing ethics .

It is difficult for a modern man to construct a vision of a whole person from a strictly ancient Greek point of view . The obvious anachronisms envolved make such an attempt partially ludicrous . Contrarily the bulk of their characterization paints a vivid picture of their primative social state .

Of course while the Greeks were muddling through the multicolored quagmire of human frailty many societies where learning to master the powers they had developed through centuries of strict adherence to religious and social mores . The development of their socially biased realities make many Greek nuances seem decadent anachronism . Rather than deitizing their baser natures as the Greeks had thay had learned to master them and turned to new paths to clarity . Spiritual pragmatism and lack of comunication nullified the social attributes of many of these extrapolations on positive orientation .

Jung preaches that man has an innate need to assimilate all external sensory perceptions . I find this untrue . In fact I find it self abortive . Human beings have a complexity factor that is individual and must be protected from overload ; man's moral ethic is a tender and deludable feeling directed by empathy . In the hectic world of modern mass media this tender individuality can become dwarfed by the percieved need to obtain social acceptance . Whole civilizations have become deluded by the flow of their complexities into an outright denial of their moral ethics .

I find this partially estranged condition prominent throughout social history . Children are brought up to respond to a vast realm of presupposed social ideologies and are not allowed to venerate themselves until much of their conscious matrix has been established . This of course makes self evasion an easily attainable goal . Sometimes politically speaking the actual goal . The mind satiated by it's social framwork is the ideal tool for a socialistic or tyrannical government .

To me the value of social history lies not in it's application as much as it's illumination . All the fragmented pockets of human coalescence should instill an understanding of man's posibility factors . Man's inability to supersede his developing anachronism may well be the cause of his annihilation .

Modern man has learned how to use tact in instilling the acceptable social mores . Solviet psychiatrists have spent years on perfecting these social sublimations ; children learn how to make their personalities conform to the accepted mean . I think that the true nature of a well rounded being lies in an ability to reject the fragmental nature of these instilled mores and develop a more universally acceptable social orientation . Does the son of a ku klux **** member have to hate blacks ? The obvious answer is no ; contrarily socially acceptable orientation is a product of environment . This is the pitfall of man's evolution as a race ; his inability to rise above the quandary of his immediate surroundings with all of their overwhelming complexities and demands to become a cognizant and empathetic being . There in lie the keys to his future .

This does not necessarily define the well rounded person . A well rounded person must be able to cope with his immediate surroundings withoutan abject denial of his empathetic being .

I believe well roundedness lies in thoughtful orientation and a well centered understanding of self . One need not be socially active as long as they are thoughtfully cognizant . Obey the golden rule ; you can not allow your objective orientation to supersede your subjective empathy . You can't allow yourself to be thwarted or overcome by your peers into being something they might want to make you because temptation may overwhelm them and you will become a transient tool in their succession .

The impetus
                     Of being
Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
                              Those standing by
                                          The mystic roadway :    River
Blues yet to be brushed
                      or in blush
                           Of evening chill's breathing
a canvas like windows dreaming felt
All mindful
And chockfull O'
                              Wonder
Then ponder
                Yonder "window breaks"
                         Past the wilderness' sleep
Bone heavy wood
                             Umber earth

                             Past whoosh and rush of liquid
Folding on itself / a soundtrack

      Listen now
      Pedestrian be

Mindful of the cautionary whales
                                               Old Ahab’s yell
                                  Obsessions
                           Fears
                                   Or loathing.

If one is drowning in one's sleep
Look wildly
                  widely
                              Blithely
                                    Down river  
Or up there beyond finger's point
                      Sidewinder snake journeys
Until sky and below it
All meet

The distance
        Now only a line
                 Coalescing what is beyond
                      Our ability to see
Far and away
    Evanescent
         Effervescent
                     Ever after      
                             River.     Life.
Here we are
And proud
     The free spirit is fluent
           With the rapid rivers loud
                            Always on the run
Currents like a child's curiosity ...
How then,
When or why
                        does it end ?
Where do we go?
                    
Like most things existing,
           Will lead to the high art /
love's deep oceans...
          
We often forget to seek
                              And mind
                                     the sublimations/
                                                            d¬¬r­ift wood.
So then,
Begin with a dot .
A speck of dusk
                     A burst of light
                                        A starry sky,
pieces to mastering
                   Raging fragility of water

Liquid undulations  
                    Folding itself in / volumes

Or falling from on high
       A droplet cry

Then the lightning
                   (crash or bloom)
From the heavens
                                 like electric rivers
So brilliantly
                   Festoons

Where do we go (so low)
       There and here / underfoot /
                   Over north / southern sleep
                                   To oceans twilight deep?

Go wrapped or map-less
Or no.
            Up
                Way
       Up yonder
There up there
                    Everywhere
                    All without fear...
My heart like the river yearns
                 To go toward the sun
                       A flow /
                                     the beating drum
Always on the run
And
     Yet
            Still
                    Here.

The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity .  Almost as if there was a reason for it’s contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of it’s creator .  Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of it’s subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of it’s unity sang of the cause for it’s being .

The single-mindedness of it’s recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of it’s repulsion waxed and waned .  

The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of it’s ******* vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness .

Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for it’s own creation , and vanished into the implosion of it’s own *******

The impetus
Of being
      Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
                              Those standing by
                                          The mystic roadway

                                     River

Blues yet to be brushed
                           or in blush
                           Of evening chill's breathing
a canvas like windows dreaming felt

All mindful
And chockful O'
                          Wonder
Then ponder
           Yonder "window breaks"
                         Past the wilderness' sleep
Bone heavy wood
                             Umber earth

         Past the rush of liquid

Folding in itself / as a soundtrack
                         Listen
      Pedestrian be
Mindful
                   of the cautionary whales
                                                  Ahab's yell
                                  Obsessions
                           Fears
                      Or loathing

One's drowning in one's sleep

Look wildly widely
                              Blithely
                                    Down river
                     Or up there beyond finger's point
                                   Sidewinder snake journeys
                                                  Until sky and below it
                             All meet
The distance

Now only a line
                      Coalescing what is beyond        
   Our ability to see

               Far and away
Evanescent
       Effervescent
                Ever after      
                             River. Life.
Do not leave...

And
here
               We are now
                            The spirit fluent
With the rapid rivers loud
                            Always on the run

Currents like a child's curiosity ...

When or why does it end
                Where do we go?
                    
Like most things existing,
                              Will lead to the high art / love's deep oceans
           We often forget to seek
And mind
                                     the sublimations ...
                                                            d­riftwood.

Begin with a dot, a line
                     A speck of dusk
                     A burst of light
                                        A starry sky,
pieces to mastery
                   Raging fragility of water
Liquid undulations  
                    Folding itself in / volumes
Or falling from on high
                    A droplet cry
Then lightning
                   (crash or bloom)
From the heavens
                                       like electric rivers
So brilliantly
                   Festoons

Where do we go
       There and here / underfoot
                   Over north / southern sleep
                                To oceans twilight deep
Go wrapped or map-less
Or no
            Up yonder
There up there
                       Everywhere
                                    All without fear

My heart like the river yearns
                 To go toward the sun
                       A flow / the beating drum
Always on the run...

And
           Yet
                   Still
                            Here.

                                                          ­                                             RIVER.

The impetus
Of being
      Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
                              Those standing by
                                          The mystic roadway

                                     River

Blues yet to be brushed
                           or in blush
                           Of evening chill's breathing
a canvas like windows dreaming felt

All mindful
And chockful O'
                          Wonder
Then ponder
           Yonder "window breaks"
                         Past the wilderness' sleep
Bone heavy wood
                             Umber earth

         Past the rush of liquid

Folding in itself / as a soundtrack
                         Listen
      Pedestrian be
Mindful
                   of the cautionary whales
                                                  Ahab's yell
                                  Obsessions
                           Fears
                      Or loathing

One's drowning in one's sleep

Look wildly widely
                              Blithely
                                    Down river
                     Or up there beyond finger's point
                                   Sidewinder snake journeys
                                                        Until sky and below it
                             All meet
The distance

Now only a line
                      Coalescing what is beyond        
   Our ability to see

               Far and away
Evanescent
         Effervescent
                     Ever after      
                             River. Life.
(Don't leave...)

Here
        We are now
                            The spirit fluent
        With the rapid rivers loud
                            Always on the run

Currents like a child's curiosity ...

When or why
                        does it end
                
Where do we go?
                    
Like most things existing,
           Will lead to the high art / love's deep oceans
          
We often forget to seek
                              And mind
                                     the sublimations ...
                                                            d­­riftwood.

So then,
Begin with a dot, a line
                     A speck of dusk
                     A burst of light
                                        A starry sky,
pieces to mastering
                   Raging fragility of water

Liquid undulations  
                    Folding itself in / volumes

Or falling from on high
                    A droplet cry

Then lightning
                   (crash or bloom)
From the heavens
                                       like electric rivers
So brilliantly
                   Festoons

Where do we go
       There and here / underfoot

                   Over north / southern sleep
                                   To oceans twilight deep

Go wrapped or map-less
Or no
            Up yonder

There up there
                       Everywhere
                                    All without fear

My heart like the river yearns
                 To go toward the sun

                       A flow / the beating drum
Always on the run...

And
           Yet
                   Still
                            Here.

                             ­                                                               
RIVER.

Deviant sublimations , the reprogrammed sociopath is now running downhill , faster by the hour , tripping over the final stone then falling
forever ...

The darkened corners of forgotten yesterdays clouded the view as the gaping maw of need stared across the chasm at necessity .  Almost as if there was a reason for its contiguous constituency it reflected the myriad animations of its creator .  Crystalline forms in infinite diversity beyond the subjective sublimations of mass crowded the integral forms of its subjugated spontaneities perversions as the well of its unity sang of the cause for its being .

The single-mindedness of its recumbent beginnings were all but lost to the ramifications of itself as the children of its repulsion waxed and waned .  

The twinkling of an eye , the integration of ages , countless extrapolations of its ******* vanished into the nature of their being as the tainted refuse of their wanton progressions began their mutual processions back to the source , or wandered through the surrealistic ethereum of their eternally predestined nothingness .

Causalities purity reigned as all became the reason for its own creation , and vanished into the implosion of its own *******

The impetus
                     Of being
Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
                              Those standing by
                                          The mystic roadway :    River
Blue yet to be brushed
                      or in blush
                           Of evening chill's breathing
canvas-like windows dreaming felt
All mindful
And chockfull O'
                              Wonder
Then ponder
                Yonder "window breaks"
                         Past the wilderness' sleep
Bone heavy wood
                             Umber earth

                             Past whoosh and rush of liquid
Folding on itself / a soundtrack

      Listen now
      Pedestrian be

Mindful of the cautionary whales
                                               Old Ahab’s yell
                                  Obsessions
                           Fears
                                   Or loathing.

If one is drowning in one's sleep
Look wildly
                  widely
                              Blithely
                                    Down river  
Or up there beyond finger's point
                      Sidewinder snake journeys
Until sky and below it
All meet

The distance
        Now only a line
                 Coalescing what is beyond
                      Our ability to see
Far and away
    Evanescent
         Effervescent
                     Ever after      
                             River.     Life.
Here
We are proud and
     The free spirit is fluent
           With the rapid rivers loud
                            Always on the run
Currents like a child's curiosity ...
How then,
When or why
                        does it end ?
Where do we go?
                    
Like most things existing,
           Will lead to the high art /
love's deep oceans...
          
We often forget to seek
                              And mind
                                     the sublimations/
                                                            d¬¬rift wood.
Let’s then
Begin with a dot .
A speck of dusk
                     bursts of light
                                        A starry sky,
pieces to mastery

                   Raging fragility of waters’
Unctuous undulations
                    Folding itself in volumes
Or falling from on high
       A droplet cry !

Then flash of lightning
                   (crash or bloom)
From the heavens
                                 like electric rivers
So brilliantly
                   Festoons

Where do we go
With those under toes
       There and here / underfoot /
                   Over north / southern sleep
                                   To oceans twilight deep?
Go wrapped or map-less
Or no.
            Up
                Way
       Up yonder
There up there
                    Everywhere
                    All without fear...

My heart like the river yearns
                 To go toward the sun
                       A flow /
                                     the beating drum
Always on the run
And
     Yet
            Still
                    Here.

River.


The impetus
               Of being
     Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
    Those standing by
        The mystic roadway :  River

   Blues yet to be brushed
             Or in blush
         from Evenings’ chill / a breathing Canvas,
        Like windows we
      dreamers felt / all mindful
   And chock full O'
              Wonder
         Then ponder
      Yonder—"window breaks"
    Past the wilderness' sleep
                       Bone-heavy wood
                            Umber earth
    Past whoosh and rush of liquid
                Folding on itself like a soundtrack
                    Listen now
      Pedestrian be
                        Mindful of the cautionary whales
                                                   Old Ahab’s yell
                       Obsessions
                          Fears
                            Or loathing.
If one is drowning in one's sleep
         Look wildly
                  widely
                            Blithely
                     Down river  
Or up there beyond finger's point
                               Sidewinder-snake-journeys
       Until sky and below it
All meet
The distance
                      Now only a line
         Coalescing what is beyond
    Our ability to see
Far and away
      Evanescent
             Effervescent
                     Ever after      
                             River. / Life.

Here we are / being / proud
       Free-Spirit-Fluent
       With the rapid rivers, loud—
                     always on the run...
The currents like a child's curiosity,
     How goes it, then?
                   When or why                               Does it end ?
                  Where do we go?              
                                 And like most things beyond just existing
                            Will be lead to the high art /
Love’s deep ocean...
                      Nights full of stars.          
     We wish often and forget to seek
          mind
                    the sublimations/                   driftwood.
      
       So, Let’s then
Begin with a dot . a speck of dusk,
          burst of sunrise
              or dark, starry skylines
                   pieces to masterpiece                                             Raging fragility of waters’
            (Unctuous undulations)
    Folding upon itself in volumes
Or falling from on high
                             A droplet cry.
Then Flash! /of lightning
                  (crash or bloom)
           From the heavens
                        like electric rivers
                                                         So brilliantly Festoons...

Where do we go
                With those under toes
       There and here / underfoot /
       Over north / southern sleep
           to Oceans’ twilight deeps?
Go wrapped or map-less
Or no,
    Up
         Way
               Up yonder
     There Up there
                            Everywhere
                       All without fear...

My heart like the river yearns
             To go toward the sun
                       A flow / afloat
                 the beating drum
Always on the run
And
        Yet
             Still
                    Here.

The impetus
                 Of being
Always on the run
               Through pinwheel eyes
                      Those standing by
              The mystic roadway :    River
Blues yet to be brushed
                   Or in blush
                           from Evenings’ chill / breathing
Canvas
Like windows we
                               dreaming / felt /
All mindful
And chock full O'
                           Wonder
Then ponder
                   Yonder—"window breaks"
                   Past the wilderness' sleep
Bone-heavy wood
                          Umber earth
                          Past whoosh and rush of liquid
Folding on itself like a soundtrack
      Listen now
      Pedestrian be
Mindful of the cautionary whales
                                                   Old Ahab’s yell
                                  Obsessions
                          Fears
                                   Or loathing.
If one is drowning in one's sleep
Look wildly
                  widely
                              Blithely
                                    Down river  
Or up there beyond finger's point
                               Sidewinder-snake-journeys
Until sky and below it
All meet

The distance
                   Now only a line
                   Coalescing what is beyond
Our ability to see
Far and away
      Evanescent
             Effervescent
                     Ever after      
                             River. / Life.

Here we are / being / proud
       Free-Spirit-Fluent
                         With the rapid rivers, loud—
                                                Always on the run...
The Current like a child's curiosity,
How goes it then?
                   When or why
                                       does it end ?
Where do we go?
                    
Like most things beyond existing,
                           Will be lead to the high art /
Love’s deep oceans…(Night’s dots of stars)
          
We wish often and forget to seek
                minding
                               the sublimations/
                                                          driftw­ood.
So, Let’s then
Begin with a dot . a speck of dusk
                            or bursts of sunrise
                                                         ­  Dark, starry skylines
pieces to mastering
                             Raging fragility of waters’
(Unctuous undulations)
                                    Folding itself in volumes
Or falling from on high
                                  A droplet cry !

Then flash of lightning! (crash or bloom)
From the heavens
                            like electric rivers
So brilliantly
                   Festoons...

Where do we go
                With those under toes
      There and here / underfoot /
                              Over north / southern sleep
                                          or to Oceans’ twilight deeps?
Go wrapped or map-less Or no,
    Up
         Way
               Up yonder
     There Up there
                            Everywhere
                            All without fear...

My heart like the river yearns
             To go toward the sun
                       A flow / afloat
                 the beating drum
Always on the run
And
        Yet
             Still
                    Here.