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If there is one thing I believe, I believe that I belong to me.
I believe this deeply, passionately, wholeheartedly, without reservation or qualification. This nation fought a bloody war that resulted in the abolition of the vile notion that one human being could own another. The citizens of this country even enshrined the principle that no one is the slave or involuntary servant of others by passing the Thirteenth Amendment. As long as people lead their lives peacefully, refusing to threaten or use violence against their neighbors except to defend themselves, I believe their self-ownership must not be limited or denied.
I came by the belief that I belong to me -- and only to me -- by a long process of discovery. For most of life, I was inundated by the message that the desires and dictates of others took precedence over my own. It's easy to say "yes." It can be incredibly difficult to say "no." Only when I found myself without a job, bankrupt, homeless, with no clue to my future did I face the stark reality that, in the final analysis, I at least still had me. As much as I valued my friends and family, when the road I traveled skirted the dark-edged cliff of oblivion, the truth that lies at the core of life swelled from a faint glow on the horizon of my awareness to a brilliant white light. That sun now illuminates all that I do, all that I believe, all that I am.
Knowing that I belong to me -- and only to me -- transformed not just my vision of myself but my image of the people around me. Realizing that each individual has his own life to lead, his own mind to follow, his own judgments to make, eliminated any tendency to blame others for my poverty, to shift the focus from my own bad choices, to seek others to rebuild the shambles that my life had become. Even if I did not always agree with the decisions others made, I respected their right to make such choices and to experience the consequences, good or bad.
More importantly, because I accepted the fundamental fact that I belong to me -- and only to me -- I had more respect for myself. When I went to graduate school in my thirties and suffered unexpected hardships, I avoided my old habit of berating myself as worthless or stupid. Instead, I solved the problems as best I could, secure in the knowledge that my actions were designed to help me, not hurt me.
Having embraced the joys of self-ownership, I want others to recognize and accept the value of personal responsibility and voluntary interactions. As a teacher and a writer and a human being, I try to embody the idea that has liberated me. I feel no guilt when I enjoy the results of my hard work, because my money belongs to me -- and only to me. I feel no shame when I experience the pleasures of food or drink or challenging ideas, because my body and my mind belong to me -- and only to me. I feel no unchosen duty to fix the lives of strangers, because their lives do not belong to me, are not mine to fix, nor does my life belong to them: it belongs only to me.
I have banished aggression from my world. I have eliminated envy and greed from my thoughts. I have exiled from my soul any desire to control the minds or bodies or property of others. I see no appeal in imposing coercive power over innocent people. I know this because I know with certainty that I belong to me.
And that you belong to you.
