In the last few weeks it feels like my written thought has been selfish. I have been unable to avoid me; and though this reflects my human nature, it is nonetheless disappointing. But in for a penny...

I often argue that I would prefer to write anonymously and for the past seven-plus years I have been successful in this regard. That is beginning to change a tiny, tiny bit; and I believe it may continue to do so. And there is a part of me, (the “me” part of me), that is looking forward to some tiny, tiny bit of regard. But there is another part of me, (the fretful part of me), that is not looking forward to criticism.

I would prefer my written thought be measured according to its merit and not according to its author. This is partly why I work to avoid selfish, but it is difficult to consistently ignore one's ego. And I believe it is ego that largely drives one to be critical of another; and what better way to discredit another's ideas than to discredit the ideator.

In my decades on and in this plane of existence, I have made my share of mistakes, and it would not be at all difficult for anyone, (including and especially myself), to find fault and attack. Many (and probably most) would zero in on my flagrant disregard for pecuniary convention. My two forays into owning property were (by choice) very short-lived, I have ignored the propriety of planning for retirement, and I have no practical clue what a savings account is used for. I have had the opportunity throughout my years to take advantage of all these privileged perks of a white middle-class upbringing, but whenever I find myself at a crossroads, I seem to consistently choose rebellious disregard. And the “rebellious” has gotten me in trouble more than once. In hindsight I am sorry if my indiscretions were taken or felt personally but I can see now that they were consistent with my distaste for all things conventional. In hindsight I can see that I have never quite grasped the alleged importance of financial security. I have never quite believed that Money is God; or even Good, and I have always felt it proper to put principle before security; (though in hindsight I see that at times my principle was skewed). That may all sound like an excuse. I don't mean it to be. It is more a statement of priorities; but for those who prioritize bureaucratic quantification, I understand your interpretation.

If I were to zero in on my most egregious errors, I would focus on my inability to completely or even adequately define justice. Those on the receiving end of this ineptitude would likely see it as a lack of patience and understanding, which is accurate, but this failing has been a direct result of my insistent certainty coupled with (then multiplied by) the aforementioned inadequacy. And as in the previous paragraph, I am sorry to those who suffered because of my self-serving immaturity; but unlike the previous paragraph, this past uninformed importunity is not consistent with who I have become or what I believe. I am no longer certain. I realize that I don't know. But I still have a very strong sense of justice and fairness. Today though, since I no longer know with certainty, I have to work much harder to attain a more complete, well-rounded understanding; and even then I am skeptical and uncertain. Opinions and decisions today do not come as expeditiously or as definitively as they once did.

Perhaps this direction helps me to understand my reluctance to face criticism. Today, (as opposed to yesterday), my nature requires me to listen thoughtfully to others and to constantly question myself, as a vehicle for depth of analysis and enlightened evolution of thought. But I am finding that the moment I step back to assess, those with (uninformed?) certainty step forward to take control and when I step forward again they have moved on and I am left to catch up. It seems we are all far too busy for thoughtful analysis. Yet thoughtful analysis is exactly what is needed to serve justice.

So to summarize I appear to be a bit of a failure; though aren't we all. I perceive myself to be a little different though because my failure stems from a pursuit of justice, (misguided as it has been at times). But perhaps this is inaccurate. Perhaps this is an excuse. Perhaps my pursuit of justice has been in actuality a pursuit of greater riches beyond my middle class upbringing. But then again, perhaps my failure to find those greater riches is justice, and perhaps at the end we will all find this justice.