In a world governed by hidden whims, the truth is rarely parallel to our cherished ideas and beliefs. Reality is in fact quite the opposite, for it often lies perpendicular to what we think is true and real. This applies most emphatically to us, ourselves, as we incessantly yet automatically pull the wool of fantasy over our eyes. We make mistakes but rarely stop to digest them, and rather hope that as few people as possible are around to witness the unsightly blemish when it inevitably occurs.

The same patterns continue to unfold minute by minute, day by day, year by year and the circular maze goes by fairly unnoticed. Sanity is indeed perpendicular to the way we think, feel and act in this programmed world of vanity, where self-love ousts a man’s chance to genuinely refine himself, develop character, and bloom into something worth imitation. The trick is to accept the idea of having to start from scratch in every possible way imaginable; to be willing to let go of this towering self-image, whole hog or nothing.