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The Ignoble Sacrifice

After much heart-searching, mind-thinking and soul-clearing, the all-important decision was made. Proceeding from that great choice, sacrifice became an inevitability. 

This sacrifice prompted great pride as well as a degree of elation. At last, something noble had been accomplished in life. There had been selfish conduct on an epic scale, self-absorption in depth, self-indulgence in abundance, self-obsession without exception. 

 In truth, my glorious existence comprised a history book of important achievements and excellent attainments. My life was composed of only one thing - me, me, me and more me. When the me in me refused to be satiated, I then conceded to add more me,  then some more.

Upon these god-forsaken lands, there was no-one as perfect as ME. This attribute of perfection confronted an uncommon challenge - I was being asked to do something for someone other than myself. Never in my life had I heard of anything so absurd. Yet, I pondered, reflected and even engaged in a spot of contemplation. 

How sad, so tragic. But, that was yesterday - and yesterday had been consigned to history. I rather liked the sound of sacrifice, and so I conferred my favour upon it.   

A worthy cause was espied and grasped, and the wicked self was shoved aside. The honourable self took command. Such was the background to the sacrifice. Pure, good, beautiful sacrifice.
  
To deny the self, after this creature had been rampaging uncontrollably through my being, was no easy task. In fact, it was the single most difficult thing in life - to look the evil self in the eye and say - loudly and firmly: "Move aside and begone yonder, Mr. Self!"
  
This monster had been shocked, appalled, at being addressed in so harsh a manner. It stopped in the middle of its selfish endeavours, attempting to fight back. However, I remained stern and thus was it roundly defeated.
 
Then, after the sacrifice - not long after, actually, a mere day or two - came the whingeing and whining. As well as the complaining, the bitterness and resentment. Why had it been necessary to make the sacrifice? Had there been no other way to do that which needed to be done? Did it really need to be done at all? Why so great a sacrifice for so insignificant a cause?
  
Alas, tortured was the mind, burdened the heart and exceedingly heavy was the soul. The questions were never-ending. I failed to find a single satisfactory answer.  
 
 
The sacrifice had been greeted with a kind of arrogance, a touch of vanity. I had acknowledged - without humility - that the greedy, corrupt self could indeed be suppressed whilst the noble self could emerge and triumph. Well, it had never happened before. The aftermath of the good deed appeared to ensure that such a calamity was unlikely to occur again.
 
In other words - no sacrifice was deserving of this suffering. Suffering caused by the noble self demanding that the selfish self be gone forever. How was this possible? Surely life was lived only for oneself? Why should my existence be blighted by others? A terrible thought - to think of others. Disgraceful. It would not happen again, I promised myself.  
  
This sacrifice became the biggest complaint in life. I did it, it was good for me. Certainly, it was the best thing I had ever done, it was the right thing to do. I was happy I did it, I would do it all over again. Who was trying to convince who? It all sounded most unconvincing. I detected the "me" within protesting against the performance of anymore charitable works. They were insupportable - I came first.
 
Sacrifice? Oh yes, a sacrifice had been made. But never had there been so ignoble a sacrifice - nor would there ever be again!
 
 
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