The true is collective, impersonal, us and ours. The false is individual, personal, me and mine.
Individual egos generate all manner of interpersonal suffering, but the damage inflicted by collective egos—which are the congealment of conformity—is vastly worse. Patriotism is ego in a uniform. Us and them.
When we buy a piece of art, the first thing we do is put a frame around it. This protects the art, intensifies its beauty. Frames are boundaries. There’s no love without them.
We do not see anything as it is. We see everything as we are. It is an em-bubbled existence—private, personal and contradictory. Eventually, the bubble pops. Now, what happens when that happens?