I can't remember ever being told growing up that it's a virtue to be content. Instead of compassion, I learned self interest. The terms "value" and "worth" were inextricably tied to the material world. I've heard it said that the advancement of a civilization depends directly on these principals. That without greed and dissatisfaction, there would be no progress. This makes sense to the kind of mind I'm supposed to be programmed with.
But it's not right.
It's not worthy of us.
And it reeks of cheap parlour trickery. Nothing about the concept of true progress suggests to me the continuation and development of a paradigm based on casual exploitation, veiled apathy and willed ignorance. To advance at all, we'd need to shuck off the entire mess and begin building from a level human plane of understanding. The proud myth of individual/familial/nation
It puts me out of place.
It leaves me on the fringe.
I feel isolated as I write this. The further my thinking takes me from mainstream methodologies, the less connected I am to that ease of spirit which exists in familiarity. Why am I here? It's a question with innumerable answers, none of which can reflect the absolute terror I experience almost daily when confronted by a future not asked for or wanted. Separation is something so crucial and dangerous. And solitude has always been a refuge. But now it's different; now it's about getting in touch with what can only be described as a merging of truths.