This is the sixth in a series of guest posts written by some of my favorite bloggers. To understand what this is about, you can read this post: 

This one in particular was written by the clever and creative Paul Anater. Paul is a designer, blogger (Kitchen and Residential Design), speaker, social media guy and free-lance writer. Paul may also be found on Twitter @Paul_Anater .

Harmony is the act of bringing multiple, conflicting aspects of what it means to be human into something approaching compatibility. Bringing together complimentary aspects is easy but the art of harmony lies in bringing together what appear to be opposites.

I always think of classical music first when the topic of harmony comes up. Let me show you why.

At first glance, this image of the pounding sea,

and this image of the London Philharmonic Orchestra appear to have nothing in common.

But in 1903, Claude Debussey wrote his infamous composition, La Mer and he used the instruments of a symphony orchestra to communicate both the fury and the beauty of the sea.

That’s harmony.


When William Butler Yeats looked out across the landscape of destruction and misery left behind by the First World War, he wrote a poem.

The Second Coming


Turning and turning in the widening gyre

The falcon cannot hear the falconer;

Things fall apart; the centre cannot hold;

Mere anarchy is loosed upon the world,

The blood-dimmed tide is loosed, and everywhere

The ceremony of innocence is drowned;

The best lack all conviction, while the worst

Are full of passionate intensity.


Surely some revelation is at hand;

Surely the Second Coming is at hand.

The Second Coming! Hardly are those words out

When a vast image out of Spiritus Mundi

Troubles my sight: a waste of desert sand;

A shape with lion body and the head of a man,

A gaze blank and pitiless as the sun,

Is moving its slow thighs, while all about it

Wind shadows of the indignant desert birds.

The darkness drops again but now I know

That twenty centuries of stony sleep

Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,

And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,

Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?


That’s harmony.


When Frank LLoyd Wright first saw this waterfall in 1935 and thought to build a house on top of it,

he ended up honoring the waterfall in one of the most harmonious homes ever constructed, Fallingwater.

Any time somebody takes competing forces and makes a compliment out of what could be a conflict, he or she is practicing harmony.

When somebody turns on a light by harnessing the wind, that’s harmony.

When somebody works out a compromise with a political opponent, that’s harmony.

When somebody takes flour and water and makes bread, that’s harmony.


Harmony isn’t automatic or innate. No, it’s an acquired skill, something that can be learned. Some of humanity’s greatest achievements, from building great buildings to raising a family, come as the result of practicing harmony.

Harmony is difficult, it takes time and effort. Imagine a world though, with more harmony and less conflict. Imagine it and then do it.