The Illusions we weave while convincing ourselves
I’ve always aspired to be a man of action—not the kind you see in movies, but someone who acts on his interests whenever and wherever they arise. Perhaps "selfish" is a more fitting description, but I prefer "action-oriented." Yet, despite this desire, I’ve often found myself lost in thought, endlessly debating the best course of action until I remain exactly where I started. So much for being a man of action, huh? I often wonder, who am I trying to convince, and who is doing the convincing? What rules must one follow to live peacefully, or are there even rules to follow at all?
As I write this at 7:30 in the morning, a motorbike has been tearing through our community, its rider revving the engine to announce his presence. I was meditating when he first passed by, and in that moment, I felt a surge of anger—how dare he disturb my peace? But then I realized that by letting such a trivial thing bother me, I had disrupted the sanctity of my meditation. Now, as I continue writing, the rider makes more rounds, and I can't help but feel angrier. I’m frustrated by how delusional a person must be to believe that making noise is a source of pride.
This delusion, I realize, extends to myself as well. I’ve been constructing illusions, some of which have taken decades to build, becoming so ingrained that they feel like my personality, my very essence. Some illusions arise in the morning while I meditate, convincing me that I’m better than others (the rider, in particular, at this moment). What I’m certain of is that there are two parts within me, and the conflict lies within. Shakespeare captured it perfectly: "To be or not to be," and Kierkegaard echoed this dilemma with, "Do it or don’t do it—you will regret both."
My supposedly rational need to find a singular solution, a definitive answer, is constantly thwarted by my internal compass, which points in so many different directions. I am lost—there is no doubt about that. I wonder, what will my salvation be?
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