The whole hullaballoo about #microaggressions assumes that one can never heal from even the slightest insult. The same applies, frankly, to a ton of what folk obssess on concerning #injustice and #racism.
And certainly I’ve done enough such obssessing myself; in the end it plays a large role in how I became homeless. And have remained homeless.
How I’ve failed to get back on my feet.
In this vein, I often recall Matthew 19:24, about the camel that can’t get through The Needle’s Eye (a particular very narrow gate in Jerusalem). Many people may be “poor” in material things, but exceptionally “rich” in resentments. One must unpack the camel, discard all that junk, if one is ever to enter the Kingdom.
If I were to bet I would guess that 90% of the “shit” that troubles us is already behind us. In some cases, so far in our past that we are not even sure if we still have the story straight.
“Two monks were on a pilgrimage. One day, they came to a deep river. At the edge of the river, a young woman sat weeping, because she was afraid to cross the river without help. She begged the two monks to help her. The younger monk turned his back. The members of their order were forbidden to touch a woman. But the older monk picked up the woman without a word and carried her across the river. He put her down on the far side and continued his journey. The younger monk came after him, scolding him and berating him for breaking his vows. He went on this way for…
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