I kept my heart open to the depravity of Man.

This is what I learned.

When we think of depravity, we may think of Hannibal Lecter from behind the bars of an underground jail cell. Dead, blue eyes staring straight into your soul. Lips slightly part, white teeth together, a sucking in of air and saliva, he is demonstrating this diabolical sound after declaring, “I ate his liver with some fava beans and a nice Chianti.” Too often, we mistake depravity as something that will stand out as obvious — like Bozo the clown, or a great white shark. However, depravity in a depraved society is not seen.

Here, on planet Earth, Man has been forced to bend at the waist, sweltering in humidity, while picking cotton or collecting fruit for a mere pittance when all that he needs is already provided for — shelter, food, water. Or, he has a hard, round belly from sitting at a desk, behind a computer screen, after consuming copious amounts of red meat and alcohol the night before. This is what is expected of Man, which makes us blind to the inherent degradation in both of these visages. Tragically, very few societies and cultures remain on planet Earth where men still hunt and squat.

Man today is simply an object with which to make and earn money — a portion for him, and a pile for someone else. A slave of his own creations, he clamors for false freedom found in waging war over illusory borders of place and mind. Total and utter disconnection from his emotional body was the only way for him to survive the carnage and pillaging of the last thousands of years. Best to avoid, run from and deny the pain he is inflicting on battlefields with evolving weapons; on the moving targets outside the tank screen; and, now even, in his own home.

This is what we have internalized as “normal.” Indentured servitude to a religion made by his own hand — God the Father, now on the All Holy Mighty Dollar. Stuck on replay, and perpetually caught in the loop of misery that accompanies his main belief system — we came here in sin. We must suffer. Over and over again, on repeat. (Cue Johnny Cash’s distinct, bass-baritone voice singing, “I hurt myself today to see if I still feel. I focus on the pain, the only thing that’s real.”)

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