The Cost of Privilege
Emma Lindsay

Once in a lifetime. (musically, if you know what I mean)

I try to reflect on the choices I’ve made in my life — which ones I tried to control, which ones I tried to influence before the fact and after. Some things you can’t control, as much as you’d like to.

When you try to control the narrative, to play the game, to pretend, to hold yourself up or hide the things about yourself you are ashamed about or unsure of…you are bound to the resentment of everything else that is a reminder of that lack of inner peace or generally the disconnect between thought and reality. The world doesn’t work — I don’t fit in — people don’t get me — everyone else sucks — they don’t understand — they’re holding me back. Doubt and the act of deception — to yourself, or to others (directly or by extension of self-deception) will yield intrinsic suffering and compromise. The struggle is real, but it doesn’t have to consume everything.

Sometimes you can start down a long road from simple fear and anger that ends up shaping the entire journey. To ask why one might be shackled to the viewpoint of others is to miss the point. You don’t have to get to the end to see where you’ve been or where you can go from here.

Doubt is a mind-killer. Honesty, then. What do you want? What is that beautiful house?

“I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.”

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