Suum cuique pulchrum est.
(M. Tullius Cicero, Tusculanae Disputationes 5.22.63)

To each person what is his/her own is beautiful.

(pron = soom KWEE-kweh POOL-kroom ehst).

Comment: I have a horrible time looking at anything I’ve recently written and
seeing typographical errors, or in seeing how any sentence that I’ve written is
not sensible! (Those of you who read my meanderings every day can stop here and
laugh).

My political and religious ideas are so clear, and right!. I am not sure why
others don’t see that.

And then every once in a while, I see a photograph taken of me by someone else
without my knowledge (usually one of my children), and I do a double take—is
that me? Or, I overhear one of my students repeating what they heard me say,
or telling someone else about my class, or, every once it a great while, a
student stops by to tell me what being in my class means to him/her. Sometimes
that is very consoling. Sometimes that is very painful.

The point is this: I can become blind to my own thing because I live and
breathe in it all the time. But, when I let go of my own thing, even for a
minute, and allow myself to see or hear or feel from another perspective, my
own thing is just another thing. Not necessarily beautiful or ugly, just
another thing.

I am coming to see that there is a larger Thing that we are all microcosms of.
When I can let go of my tight fisted grip to my thing, I begin to see that.
Frightening and beautiful, all at once.