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I hit the alarm this morning and lay in bed awakening, becoming aware of how tired I was, when, unbidden, the inner voice spoke up: “I can’t believe I’m going to die, and disappear, and the world
will go on without me, and it will be like I’ve never been. Unbelievable.”

Me, me, me. Stuck in specificity, circumscribed by the narrowest of limits, tightly defined. That’s the whole problem. That’s where the pressure and dissatisfaction come from, and the anxiety, the fear. All your eggs in one basket. Always here, always now. Me, me, me, me, me. That’s the beauty of teaching. I escape into the eyes of my students.