This is a story about two men. They are about the same age – compared to me they are just old. One is the owner of the apartment, the other one is the main lecturer. I am sure they do not know each other. But they do have something in common.
I start with the main lecturer. He is not very much liked, because his comments and presentations are often of no value to the class. Sometimes I only go to his lectures to get information on current assignments. He talks about irrelevant and simply untrue things and gives his personal opinion and judgement instead of explaining principles. Once he insisted on a picture being taken in the newsroom of a big American newspaper, although we pointed out that all the workers there and some writings on a board in the back looked rather Asian. But he kept talking, not able to admit his irrelevant mistake, but rather defending it, as if we had attacked him personally. Either he has a very weak self-esteem which he has to defend against everything all the time. Or he really was convinced that it was an American newsroom and he had bent reality to his pleasure, so that it fit into his frame.
And that is exactly what the owner of the apartment does, too. He never buys milk but always uses the packets of the others from the fridge. (My dairy-free fourty days started yesterday, so there is no danger he would take anything from me.) And then he complains that there is no fresh milk, all of it is open for three or more days. As if he could make any demands concerning the milk of the others that he uses without asking.
He does buy other stuff though, and plenty. A treat to him is a certain raspberry juice. He let me taste it, it is pink, thick, sweet and very tasty. He says it is almost like candy, and how it is only pure raspberry, no additions, no nothing, pure and natural and yummy and healthy raspberry, one hundred percent.
It is not. I read the label. It is concentrated juice with sugar, just as every other juice is, too. I didn’t tell him. But I don’t know why he would say so and where he got the idea from. The label clearly indicates something else, but he keeps praising the totally pure raspberry juice. Maybe to make himself believe to be consuming a health drink? Bent reality.
I do not like that. I become hard and I cannot feel any empathy for those people who are unaware and who are stiff enough to be able to bend reality to their pleasure. So that is exactly what I am now trying to remind myself of: to feel empathy for everyone and get rid of aversions against reality benders and any kind of people. So that my resistance crumbles. So that I develop selfless compassion and maybe I get the chance to see amazing qualities within these people.