[UPDATE: My uncle, as usual, has over-reacted (here) to this blog!] I'm leaving ... this life is too hard ... I'm cold ... where's my familiar surroundings ... I could die here ... is this my only purpose ... nobody's going to make me do anything ... I gotta look out for #1 ... what’s it matter if I don't, anyway? I'm sick and tired of apathy, of people running away from any challenge that entails personal cost. One day the excuse is its too cold, next because it's too warm, or too cloudy, or too sunny. What is it with this generation? It seems that unless there is a personal pleasure to be gained, nothing altruistic is worth the effort. We are the first generation on this planet to be so globally connected, so globally threatened. Never have so many had so much and yet about 1 billion (yes, billion!) are malnourished. And yet we won't get off our collective numb bum to do anything about it. The modus operandi of the day is, "what's in it for me?" And the saddest thing of all? I'm part of it. My bum is numb too. So where do I start to change my actions? Should I even change? The first issue is, does it matter? That of course begs the question of "Matter to who?" To myself, it matters only so far as I am concerned about it. If I'm not concerned, than so what if I choose not to help others. Does that matter to the dispossessed, the poor, those less powerful, does it really matter to them? Well of course it does, but if it doesn't matter to me then why should I bother? So I should only change if it matters to someone more powerful than I ... someone to account to, because then I'm vulnerable. Ultimately the only person I have to account to is ... me ... or perhaps God, if there is a God. But why should it matter to God? I mean, if he exists isn't he just the ultimate me ... only with more power, more resources ... surely it doesn't matter to him because he already has everything. That's about where the pagan sits. The gods are up there busy with their own affairs, and humans are mostly a nuisance. There's still a problem, because it just so happens that all the evidence of life leads me to believe there is a God, and I believe the inequity of the world matters to him. I believe he really does care for all those around me, and their welfare does matter to him, as does mine. I believe he is as concerned about my apathy as he is about the poor man in the street ... because in the long run my apathy and individualism may be more damaging than any material poverty. My riches are to be found in his compassion. Only when I see with his eyes, do I find the reason to move, and the blood circulation gradually returns to my bum.
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Why?
Probably the best therapy is to express yourself. Why do you think psychiatrists make you lie on the couch and talk, while all they do is murmur "hmmm", "uhuh", or "go on"? Archives
May 2017
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