Selfishness continues to be humanity’s most besetting sin. According to this convolution, the rich deserve to be rich and the poor deserve to be poor. Am I selfish? Of course not. Not me.
Wars, more wars, rumours of war. Protests, counter-protests, divorce courts, the Second Amendment. Conflict devours incomprehensible amounts of energy. And it all derives from a single source: the idea of me and mine.
The thing to which we cling most tightly is our identity. Now our personal identity is micronic, a puff of spore. Eckhart Tolle calls it the dash between two dates on a headstone. But we fear losing it. Being good boys—conditioned and conventionalized—we hit the ground running in a race to acquire as much as possible, so help us God.
“In a world of fugitives, the person taking the opposite direction will appear to run away.”
Life befriends and guides generous men. Tightwads fall into holes they’ve dug themselves.
We live in a time of the Americanization of fear. “There are barbarians at the gates,” run the headlines. But the problem is not the rude and hirsute. It’s the fearful man—cornered.