Mei, our pet dog, signaled her eagerness for a relief. I took her out to the front yard. Under her paws came the creaking of the first fallen leaves. Nocturnal singing by crickets filled the air in the early autumn night. Freight train whistled its way in the distance. The two-day old full moon silently relayed the light from the late morning Sun above East Asia.
Forty-four years ago to the hour, a crying infant boy slipped into this seemingly flawless wonderland unbeknown for the disquieting jumble and tumble of the day.
Life has been beautiful. Just look back and around.
The artists standing firm in the yard are painting themselves with self-made colorful crayons. Without peeking from outside, how do the artists know when and where to mint and deposit the load of pigments in their own gallery after the first inkling of the seasonal chill? How did the weavers stitch up their own green sweaters earlier in the spring? How did the florists arrange their name brand bouquet and enchant the buzzing insects with overnight brewed nectar from under their sleeves? How did the baker shops harness the solar power long before our energy crisis? Why did the vegetarians donate their own flesh as bread for the herbivores who then sacrifice for the carnivores who freely offer their corpses to the microbes? Who waved the magic wand in the beginning and breathed life into existence? Who decrees that life in such rich diversity must surrender the grip to longevity in its present shapes and forms?
A forty-four year old becomes a child of curiosity for a night. Knock. Knock.
The crickets are still singing their post-courtship love songs.
Thursday, October 16, 2008
Friday, October 10, 2008
Hope is the Surest Antidote of Fear
Fear is gripping the world. That is the dominating news today.
Who would not fear, you argue, when a big chunk of one's hard-earned savings in investment and retirement accounts have evaporated in a matter of days?
We worry because we can foresee a day in the not so distant future when we may lose our shelter and no food may be brought to our dinner table and not enough money is available to send kids to colleges. This is a typical and, I must admit, fairly reasonable worry of our time.
Let's talk about shelter first. True, if you, like me, have not paid off the mortgage, it is possible for us to default our loan and lose our shelter. We will have to rent a cheaper place or live on the street if homeless shelters are overcrowded and we have nowhere else to turn. Possibly, we may have to go to the mountains and build our own temporary shelter there (and breathe fresher air too).
But do not worry too much. Since almost everyone (except homeless people not living in homeless shelters) are already living in a real place, it is a logical corollary that the world has a place for everyone, if the street-living homeless will take up some of the underutilized or empty spaces. We can safely conclude that everyone has a place to live. During deep economic crisis, if banks and landlords insist that more than half of the world population must vacate from current homes and apartments, then I will assure you that the new homeless people will revolt and take over the world unless the governments step in to help the people. I know you still worry if only a third or quarter of the world population do not have a place to live and you and I are among them. Do not worry. We may form our own nation called the Republic of the Homeless. We may pick up where both capitalism and communism have miserably failed and build a utopia that truly love one another in hope and faith.
Next, food. I am the least worried on food. You see, the red hot Sun (not Sarah Palin) is still dutifully giving off light of comparable luminosity. The green plants (not the Full Frontal fashion models) are still dutifully performing photosynthesis. The whole ecosystem (bacteria, plants, animals including people) has been ultimately fed by solar powered photosynthesis. There is no near term crisis yet, not for another few billion years when the Sun burns up its hydrogen fuel. The food is here, there, and everywhere. I know we modern mortals have been accustomed to buying food from super food marts. But that is not the way of life for our ancestors and our animal friends and germ foes. We can grow our own green plants and animal stocks. Now you worry about cultivatable land. Worry not, for the land is yours, mine, and ours to plough and plant, according to the lyric of a most memorable Christian hymn that I heard when I came to USA. You still worry about the land, as if we will relive the cowboys' era of the great expansion to the West. I say, worry not, since we do not need a big acre of land to grow enough food for one family. Besides, we can always go back to the days of slavery and submit ourselves to the big landlords before the next peasants' revolution.
Lastly, college tuition. Why worry about it when we have to dwell in mountain caves or shelters and eat what we grow ourselves? We will push back the modern education by 500 years. My friends (as John McCain likes to address his audience), don't you want to live a life that is as archaic and romantic as the nomads in an environmentally friendly way? I miss my childhood days when I collected dog dung to fertilize the land.
I rest my case of argument. I hope we will regain our hope, the best antidote to any fear. We are afraid of the potential revision to our modern way of life. Screw the modernity. Let's go back to the future that has true hope, faith and love.
Barack Obama seemed to know what we would need by launching his presidential bid on the bandwagon of hope. Why has he stopped talking about hope now? We all need hope, all the more desperately.
Who would not fear, you argue, when a big chunk of one's hard-earned savings in investment and retirement accounts have evaporated in a matter of days?
We worry because we can foresee a day in the not so distant future when we may lose our shelter and no food may be brought to our dinner table and not enough money is available to send kids to colleges. This is a typical and, I must admit, fairly reasonable worry of our time.
Let's talk about shelter first. True, if you, like me, have not paid off the mortgage, it is possible for us to default our loan and lose our shelter. We will have to rent a cheaper place or live on the street if homeless shelters are overcrowded and we have nowhere else to turn. Possibly, we may have to go to the mountains and build our own temporary shelter there (and breathe fresher air too).
But do not worry too much. Since almost everyone (except homeless people not living in homeless shelters) are already living in a real place, it is a logical corollary that the world has a place for everyone, if the street-living homeless will take up some of the underutilized or empty spaces. We can safely conclude that everyone has a place to live. During deep economic crisis, if banks and landlords insist that more than half of the world population must vacate from current homes and apartments, then I will assure you that the new homeless people will revolt and take over the world unless the governments step in to help the people. I know you still worry if only a third or quarter of the world population do not have a place to live and you and I are among them. Do not worry. We may form our own nation called the Republic of the Homeless. We may pick up where both capitalism and communism have miserably failed and build a utopia that truly love one another in hope and faith.
Next, food. I am the least worried on food. You see, the red hot Sun (not Sarah Palin) is still dutifully giving off light of comparable luminosity. The green plants (not the Full Frontal fashion models) are still dutifully performing photosynthesis. The whole ecosystem (bacteria, plants, animals including people) has been ultimately fed by solar powered photosynthesis. There is no near term crisis yet, not for another few billion years when the Sun burns up its hydrogen fuel. The food is here, there, and everywhere. I know we modern mortals have been accustomed to buying food from super food marts. But that is not the way of life for our ancestors and our animal friends and germ foes. We can grow our own green plants and animal stocks. Now you worry about cultivatable land. Worry not, for the land is yours, mine, and ours to plough and plant, according to the lyric of a most memorable Christian hymn that I heard when I came to USA. You still worry about the land, as if we will relive the cowboys' era of the great expansion to the West. I say, worry not, since we do not need a big acre of land to grow enough food for one family. Besides, we can always go back to the days of slavery and submit ourselves to the big landlords before the next peasants' revolution.
Lastly, college tuition. Why worry about it when we have to dwell in mountain caves or shelters and eat what we grow ourselves? We will push back the modern education by 500 years. My friends (as John McCain likes to address his audience), don't you want to live a life that is as archaic and romantic as the nomads in an environmentally friendly way? I miss my childhood days when I collected dog dung to fertilize the land.
I rest my case of argument. I hope we will regain our hope, the best antidote to any fear. We are afraid of the potential revision to our modern way of life. Screw the modernity. Let's go back to the future that has true hope, faith and love.
Barack Obama seemed to know what we would need by launching his presidential bid on the bandwagon of hope. Why has he stopped talking about hope now? We all need hope, all the more desperately.
Monday, October 6, 2008
Stop the Bloodletting, Fear no Fear
Wall Street and world markets did not get too cozy with the 700 billion bailout plan. The world has entered into a panic attack, as if the sky is falling any minute.
The fearful, or shrewd, decide to unload their stocks and stash away the cash until future recovery from the panic attack. Assuming no more short selling is permitted in this downright bearish market, few stockholders stand to gain anything, except earlier short sellers who are trying to buy back the borrowed shares and those who have plenty of cash on hand to buy values stocks in their new lows.
Even though I am not running for President of any country or club, but as a good world citizen, I must advise the panicking fellow citizens not to lose heart. Do not join the frenzy of dumping your shares. That will only exacerbate the irrational exuberance on the market and drive down the price more steeply.
I want to go one step further to call on the governments to immediately stop the bloodletting on the market by shutting down all trades until further notice, when people will have regained their mental sure footing.
The sub-prime mortgage debacle due to unshackled Wall Street greed has set off this unfortunate episode of economic downturn. The mere intensifying fear of common stockholders will only add fuel to fire, insult to injury, making the bad worse.
First is the Wall Street greed, now comes the Main Street fear. Greed and fear are twins that will do us in. Someone has said it well, the only fear that we need to fear is the fear itself. So fear no fear.
I am reading Daniel Coleman's classic book on "Emotional Intelligence". It is evident that panic selling is an emotionally unintelligent, knee-jerk reaction in this gloomy market. We must put a cork to the bubbling foam of fear. The government must stop the bloodletting.
The fearful, or shrewd, decide to unload their stocks and stash away the cash until future recovery from the panic attack. Assuming no more short selling is permitted in this downright bearish market, few stockholders stand to gain anything, except earlier short sellers who are trying to buy back the borrowed shares and those who have plenty of cash on hand to buy values stocks in their new lows.
Even though I am not running for President of any country or club, but as a good world citizen, I must advise the panicking fellow citizens not to lose heart. Do not join the frenzy of dumping your shares. That will only exacerbate the irrational exuberance on the market and drive down the price more steeply.
I want to go one step further to call on the governments to immediately stop the bloodletting on the market by shutting down all trades until further notice, when people will have regained their mental sure footing.
The sub-prime mortgage debacle due to unshackled Wall Street greed has set off this unfortunate episode of economic downturn. The mere intensifying fear of common stockholders will only add fuel to fire, insult to injury, making the bad worse.
First is the Wall Street greed, now comes the Main Street fear. Greed and fear are twins that will do us in. Someone has said it well, the only fear that we need to fear is the fear itself. So fear no fear.
I am reading Daniel Coleman's classic book on "Emotional Intelligence". It is evident that panic selling is an emotionally unintelligent, knee-jerk reaction in this gloomy market. We must put a cork to the bubbling foam of fear. The government must stop the bloodletting.
Tuesday, September 30, 2008
Smile, Baby, Smile
The crying baby smiled, even without that expensive, $700 billion lollipop.
Possibly the timely festivity of the Jewish New Year is one cause for smile. Or perhaps the most irrational exuberance on record yesterday must be undone of its unnecessary damage, thanks to bargain hunters and day traders who search for their fortune in a beaten down market.
Wall Street reminds me of the chaos theory. The butterfly effect results from a runaway, yet unpredictable, domino effect. Let's say, a newsworthy rumor mill crops up somewhere in the message board and gets snowballing in a few hours or days. If more stakeholders subscribe to the veracity of the news, then a certain stock will trend up or down, depending on the nature of the news. If more and more people get a panic attack and start unloading their shares once tightly clutched to their chest, then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: the price continues its free fall indeed. One may ask, Is this justified by the fundamental of the stock or the overall health of the economy? It is justified most of the time for certain stocks, sometimes for all stocks, but never for all stocks at the same time.
Is now the time for panic selling? Most pundits would say no. The reason is simple. Panic selling is always self-fulfilling and self-destructive. It initiates a chain reaction that implodes. In the end, it drives a company and its shares to obscurity or even dustbin.
It is safe to assume that many companies are valuable and worth investing. All value-inflated or deflated stocks require corrections from time to time. A stock market crash is hardly justified, unless most listed companies are grossly overvalued. The trouble is, value is in the eyes of the beholders. That leaves ample room for chaotic trading, especially when people get edgy and irrational.
So stay cool, baby. Grow up and smile often. Do not wait for the lollipop.
Possibly the timely festivity of the Jewish New Year is one cause for smile. Or perhaps the most irrational exuberance on record yesterday must be undone of its unnecessary damage, thanks to bargain hunters and day traders who search for their fortune in a beaten down market.
Wall Street reminds me of the chaos theory. The butterfly effect results from a runaway, yet unpredictable, domino effect. Let's say, a newsworthy rumor mill crops up somewhere in the message board and gets snowballing in a few hours or days. If more stakeholders subscribe to the veracity of the news, then a certain stock will trend up or down, depending on the nature of the news. If more and more people get a panic attack and start unloading their shares once tightly clutched to their chest, then it becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy: the price continues its free fall indeed. One may ask, Is this justified by the fundamental of the stock or the overall health of the economy? It is justified most of the time for certain stocks, sometimes for all stocks, but never for all stocks at the same time.
Is now the time for panic selling? Most pundits would say no. The reason is simple. Panic selling is always self-fulfilling and self-destructive. It initiates a chain reaction that implodes. In the end, it drives a company and its shares to obscurity or even dustbin.
It is safe to assume that many companies are valuable and worth investing. All value-inflated or deflated stocks require corrections from time to time. A stock market crash is hardly justified, unless most listed companies are grossly overvalued. The trouble is, value is in the eyes of the beholders. That leaves ample room for chaotic trading, especially when people get edgy and irrational.
So stay cool, baby. Grow up and smile often. Do not wait for the lollipop.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Crying Baby Syndrome
Wall Street has developed a personality of a crying baby these days.
When the news of a potential bailout plan first broke out, the sorrowfully crying baby liked it, and broke into a smile for a couple of trading sessions. The grandmothers and grandfathers on the Hill worked their socks off over the weekend to put finishing touches on a $700 billion bailout plan, shortly before a worrying world market opened while Wall Street the baby slept. Both the grandmother in the House and the grandfather-to-be in other House anxiously waited for the wake up of the sleeping baby, a little darling angel for a silent Sunday night.
The grey-haired grandfather-to-be even cautiously walked to the podium and shooed away the blood-thirsty mosquitoes flying around the baby after the gleaming dawn. The baby rose up from his slumber and, lo and behold, cried in hysteria, without waiting for the $700 billion lollipop from the grandparents. The House did not buy it and rejected it in the middle of his colicky crying, catapulting the baby into an ever louder howl, as if he is being weaned for the first time.
The fallout? All stakeholders have seen their paper wealth evaporated by another layer. My bank is being scooped up by another. Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you think differently), the balance I have is not even worth my worry.
Let the crying baby come of age and come to peaceable term with the harsh reality: no bailout for excessive greed.
The cows are still mooing in the green pastureland adorned with brightly yellow chrysanthemum. The birds find no reason to worry about another credit crunch for their lofty mansions in slight disrepair. The squirrels continue their due diligence of harvest in storing up for the incoming winter. Fossil fuel is no substitute for heating. They are counting again on their self-knitted fur coat to endure another cold season. The only layoff is happening with the once leafy corporation of forestry. Lots of green leaves will soon be served pink, red, yellow and purple slips.
Life continues.
When the news of a potential bailout plan first broke out, the sorrowfully crying baby liked it, and broke into a smile for a couple of trading sessions. The grandmothers and grandfathers on the Hill worked their socks off over the weekend to put finishing touches on a $700 billion bailout plan, shortly before a worrying world market opened while Wall Street the baby slept. Both the grandmother in the House and the grandfather-to-be in other House anxiously waited for the wake up of the sleeping baby, a little darling angel for a silent Sunday night.
The grey-haired grandfather-to-be even cautiously walked to the podium and shooed away the blood-thirsty mosquitoes flying around the baby after the gleaming dawn. The baby rose up from his slumber and, lo and behold, cried in hysteria, without waiting for the $700 billion lollipop from the grandparents. The House did not buy it and rejected it in the middle of his colicky crying, catapulting the baby into an ever louder howl, as if he is being weaned for the first time.
The fallout? All stakeholders have seen their paper wealth evaporated by another layer. My bank is being scooped up by another. Fortunately (or unfortunately, if you think differently), the balance I have is not even worth my worry.
Let the crying baby come of age and come to peaceable term with the harsh reality: no bailout for excessive greed.
The cows are still mooing in the green pastureland adorned with brightly yellow chrysanthemum. The birds find no reason to worry about another credit crunch for their lofty mansions in slight disrepair. The squirrels continue their due diligence of harvest in storing up for the incoming winter. Fossil fuel is no substitute for heating. They are counting again on their self-knitted fur coat to endure another cold season. The only layoff is happening with the once leafy corporation of forestry. Lots of green leaves will soon be served pink, red, yellow and purple slips.
Life continues.
Friday, September 19, 2008
In Time Such As This
Well, we all got a jolt, then a tremor, and finally a quake of another kind in recent weeks and days. In its wake, houses are foreclosed, investment accounts are shrunk, heads are spinning, minds are unsettling, and hearts are aching and broken.
The Wall Street capitalists tasted the bitter gall of excessive greed. They spit it out to the Main Street, and we all smelled the foul of it. The government is hurtled into a whirlwind, really a hurricane, of bailing out the distressed and bankruptcy-bound financial firms. Cataclysm-loving and havoc-wreaking short-sellers are sidelined for at least a day.
Now let's pause to take a much needed inventory. Inventory of life, that is.
Let's dwell on the value and self worth today. What we value can take on a collective meaning. So collective, it is really global. The global stakeholders can change the value of a stock in the twinkling of an eye. When more people feel it is overvalued, the stock goes south. The trouble is, the value can sink to a bottomless pit, unsupported by any fundamentals. Thus, whatever financial fortress we take refuge in may tumble down into a worthless pile of rubbles by the end of yesterday's session of trading. Still in doubt? Ask the Lehman Brothers over 150 years before present.
Our life's self worth can be so tied up with the value of our material wealth that we delude ourselves into categorical thinking that we are rich, poor, or just getting by. We often unconsciously fail to recognize the intrinsic value and worth of our life. We pity ourselves. Some of the fainthearted marshal their last ounce of courage only to end their misery in time like this.
Need not be so desperate! Fortunately, life is worth the living because of two compelling reasons.
First, our life is worth the dying of Christ on the Cross. In Christ, the Son of God, we find the greatest value and worth of our life. If God were a modern day IT guru, he might have easily reformatted or tossed into dustbin the virus-infected computers. God did not do that. The Son of God chose to become one of us, so that we may one day become like him. The more we find value in Christ, the more we have struck the mine of imperishable gold. I invite you to find value in Christ first, then yourself.
Second, our life is worth the living because Christ lives. The crucified Christ on Good Friday became the resurrected Christ on Easter Sunday. Such simple truth carries the greatest import to our outlook in life. Imagine, no amount of adversities in life can deter us from living in the shining rays of the blessed hope. Not stock crash. Not joblessness. Not sickness. Not even death. I invite you to go back to the first true dawn of new humanity, to the garden tomb site where Christ was once buried. The angel of light will tell us again as to Mary the Magdalene: he is not here, he is risen.
I invite you to spread the wing of faith and soar above the turmoils roiling in our midst. Let's gaze into the horizon beyond the sunset, brimming with light, and see in the lens of faith our heavenly home with our God. Let's have the true hope of eternal life, the hope that no politicians will ever be able to deliver. The audacity of hope, which is, Christ in us!
The Wall Street capitalists tasted the bitter gall of excessive greed. They spit it out to the Main Street, and we all smelled the foul of it. The government is hurtled into a whirlwind, really a hurricane, of bailing out the distressed and bankruptcy-bound financial firms. Cataclysm-loving and havoc-wreaking short-sellers are sidelined for at least a day.
Now let's pause to take a much needed inventory. Inventory of life, that is.
Let's dwell on the value and self worth today. What we value can take on a collective meaning. So collective, it is really global. The global stakeholders can change the value of a stock in the twinkling of an eye. When more people feel it is overvalued, the stock goes south. The trouble is, the value can sink to a bottomless pit, unsupported by any fundamentals. Thus, whatever financial fortress we take refuge in may tumble down into a worthless pile of rubbles by the end of yesterday's session of trading. Still in doubt? Ask the Lehman Brothers over 150 years before present.
Our life's self worth can be so tied up with the value of our material wealth that we delude ourselves into categorical thinking that we are rich, poor, or just getting by. We often unconsciously fail to recognize the intrinsic value and worth of our life. We pity ourselves. Some of the fainthearted marshal their last ounce of courage only to end their misery in time like this.
Need not be so desperate! Fortunately, life is worth the living because of two compelling reasons.
First, our life is worth the dying of Christ on the Cross. In Christ, the Son of God, we find the greatest value and worth of our life. If God were a modern day IT guru, he might have easily reformatted or tossed into dustbin the virus-infected computers. God did not do that. The Son of God chose to become one of us, so that we may one day become like him. The more we find value in Christ, the more we have struck the mine of imperishable gold. I invite you to find value in Christ first, then yourself.
Second, our life is worth the living because Christ lives. The crucified Christ on Good Friday became the resurrected Christ on Easter Sunday. Such simple truth carries the greatest import to our outlook in life. Imagine, no amount of adversities in life can deter us from living in the shining rays of the blessed hope. Not stock crash. Not joblessness. Not sickness. Not even death. I invite you to go back to the first true dawn of new humanity, to the garden tomb site where Christ was once buried. The angel of light will tell us again as to Mary the Magdalene: he is not here, he is risen.
I invite you to spread the wing of faith and soar above the turmoils roiling in our midst. Let's gaze into the horizon beyond the sunset, brimming with light, and see in the lens of faith our heavenly home with our God. Let's have the true hope of eternal life, the hope that no politicians will ever be able to deliver. The audacity of hope, which is, Christ in us!
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
A Father's Advice
Today is my son's birthday, as well as millions of others'. Here is my advice to Sam, and Sarah and Stephanie.
Feel the heavenly melodies. Our cosmos is sounding with harmonic strings at the deepest microcosmic level. Our cosmos is replete with constantly dancing galaxies at the grandest macrocosmic scale. In between, we breathe to follow the rhythmic tune of our heartbeat. We are star-gazers, grass-grazers, and mostly meat-eaters. Above all, we are musicians born to declare the splendid glory of our Creator. Feel the music in the air, like August Rush. Feel the hoofbeat of the changing seasons. Feel the distinctive chirps and coos of birds. Feel the ruffling along the path of a treetop-climbing squirrel. Feel the tiny local hurricanes produced by a fluttering butterfly. Feel the unfolding of the petals in a wild flower. Feel the dirt-cracking of a new bamboo shoot. Feel the brushing strokes of chlorophyll, carotenoids and anthocyanins in mother nature's photoshop. Feel the huffing and puffing of a gusty wind, or the bemoaning of a breeze. Feel the moonlight echoing the sunshine. Feel the shooting stars, God's fireworks. Feel the pulsating of life's happenings inside and outside. Feel your own sixth sense. Feel God. Compose new music with your own life-sized notes.
Feel the numbers and curves. Remodel and sharpen your sense of math. This world is short-sighted and tunnel-visioned, seeing numbers printed on the paycheck, and curves sported by beauties skin-deep. Go beyond that. This is God's world. God is the unrivaled mathematician. Think after His thoughts. Mind His games. Feel numbers and curves that do tango together. Paint your own artworks with numbers and curves in life's whatever vocation.
Feel the pain. Feel the pain of the victimized, the short-changed, the vilified, the abused, the handicapped, the disadvantaged, and the underprivileged. Feel the holy pain on the Cross. Feel the compassionate pain inside you to extend a helping hand. In a world of getting even or getting more, hunker down as an altruist and peacemaker.
The world will be a better place because of what you do as advised.
Feel the heavenly melodies. Our cosmos is sounding with harmonic strings at the deepest microcosmic level. Our cosmos is replete with constantly dancing galaxies at the grandest macrocosmic scale. In between, we breathe to follow the rhythmic tune of our heartbeat. We are star-gazers, grass-grazers, and mostly meat-eaters. Above all, we are musicians born to declare the splendid glory of our Creator. Feel the music in the air, like August Rush. Feel the hoofbeat of the changing seasons. Feel the distinctive chirps and coos of birds. Feel the ruffling along the path of a treetop-climbing squirrel. Feel the tiny local hurricanes produced by a fluttering butterfly. Feel the unfolding of the petals in a wild flower. Feel the dirt-cracking of a new bamboo shoot. Feel the brushing strokes of chlorophyll, carotenoids and anthocyanins in mother nature's photoshop. Feel the huffing and puffing of a gusty wind, or the bemoaning of a breeze. Feel the moonlight echoing the sunshine. Feel the shooting stars, God's fireworks. Feel the pulsating of life's happenings inside and outside. Feel your own sixth sense. Feel God. Compose new music with your own life-sized notes.
Feel the numbers and curves. Remodel and sharpen your sense of math. This world is short-sighted and tunnel-visioned, seeing numbers printed on the paycheck, and curves sported by beauties skin-deep. Go beyond that. This is God's world. God is the unrivaled mathematician. Think after His thoughts. Mind His games. Feel numbers and curves that do tango together. Paint your own artworks with numbers and curves in life's whatever vocation.
Feel the pain. Feel the pain of the victimized, the short-changed, the vilified, the abused, the handicapped, the disadvantaged, and the underprivileged. Feel the holy pain on the Cross. Feel the compassionate pain inside you to extend a helping hand. In a world of getting even or getting more, hunker down as an altruist and peacemaker.
The world will be a better place because of what you do as advised.
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