Shadowy Action

A man finds himself in the strangest of situations. Short of the familiarity of everything that he has been conditioned to think and feel he knows, he doesn’t really know a single thing. At least not of itself or as some would call it, by its real name. His mind was but empty at birth and only later filled by imitating others, as well as being dinned on what is what, what is right, and what is wrong by those who reared him. Who he is as a man now did not begin at conception or at birth, but much, much, later when this conditioned persona of a self-image finally hardened into a form of its own. Indeed, so many of his tastes, interests, fears, habits and unconscious tendencies have their root from a source external to he himself that they greatly outnumber whatever is actually inherent to his origins. So the perennial question of nature versus nurture arrives at our door and we wonder, what is truly innate and so permanent in us, and what are simply garments that we find ourselves glued to by the shadowy action of great ignorance and great weakness? This, the strangest of situations, is that a man is bound, attached and so strung up tightly to the clothing he wears.


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