The fanstasy of bootstraps has become a nightmare of ensnarement. How often do I say, when struggling, "what bad luck I've had" or conversely "what a messed up person I am"? How often do I say, when revelling in well-being "Isn't it good I worked so hard for this?" Vanity, vanity, all is vanity and a crying into the wind. (Ecclesiaties) There's more in this picture than meets the eye. Can it meet our heart?
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