In this dialogue I discuss my disappointment at the reactions of certain people when I do things for them. I am aware that virtue is its own reward and I do things because it is in my nature so to do but it is nice to get acknowledgment, at least from the human point of view

Brian: Sometimes I get so full of facts and information, and I’ve come to realize we need to prepare ourselves for a decline of quality in how people respond to us. Many are so overwhelmed they can’t react normally anymore, and that really breaks my heart. I rely on human beings—people like you and Françoise.

It feels like the connection between heart and mind is fading. I know I’m preaching to the choir here, but I think the only way forward is closer fellowship with those we hold dear. I’ve even made a chart of people I care about and turned it into a kind of prayer wall. It actually helps.

I’ve given my time and energy to people—built a website for someone, wrote promotional content for another—and they just stopped communicating. No thanks, no follow-up. I wonder why people are so reluctant to interact. Is it fear?

Other Speaker: I don’t think it’s fear exactly. I think we’re all a bit messed up from the stress we’re under. People react differently—some shut down, some become numb. It’s like a zombie state. Something deeper is happening, maybe even subliminal. People talk about timelines splitting, and I think we’re all crammed with thought, overwhelmed by the pace of life. There’s no room to relax or reflect.

It’s not necessarily selfishness or cruelty—it’s just ticking boxes, rushing through life without realizing how our actions affect others. I don’t think it’s intentional. You’re sensitive, Brian. You observe and analyze deeply. I interact with a lot of people, and I don’t always have the luxury of slowing down like you do. Sometimes it’s just another call, another inquiry.

Brian: Thank you. I can’t help who I am—I’m an observer, and I get disturbed when people aren’t expressive or artistic. Maybe they’re living in another world, and my values don’t apply there.

Other Speaker: That’s very true. It’s like we’re all strands of hair in the wind—connected, but scattered. We’re not together. I feel it too. I’ve been thinking about where to move, what to do. I’m exhausted, and I see that in others. I’m meeting a group tonight—ordinary people, not intellectuals—but they share the same worries: how to protect themselves and their families. It’s an existential crisis, not just financial or social.

The body and mind feel it, even if we don’t fully understand. Like during wartime—you function, but you know you could be killed at any moment. You react in strange ways.

Brian: It’s silent weapons and quiet wars. This feels like World War III.

Other Speaker: Yes, absolutely. But then you talk to someone like my ex-husband, or even my daughter—she’s doing well, working on a project for the American market, preparing for a trip to Alaska and the Rockies. She seems completely oblivious to what’s going on. I don’t even ask anymore.

We have to let things be. This life and body aren’t the end. If they were, we’d be truly lost. But because there’s more, we don’t have to accept this situation as final.

Brian: That’s helpful. I’ve been making demands, but maybe I need to accept things as they are.

Other Speaker: Yes, I don’t think demands get us anywhere now. If you want to survive, you have to start with yourself. I had to accept that my daughter isn’t in touch with me. It took 20 years. Then I was invited to celebrate my 70th birthday, and she texted me asking what I’d do. I said no—I’d be with people who like and respect me. That changed her completely. She responded differently, more kindly.

Brian: That’s a wonderful testimony.

Other Speaker: Don’t punish yourself, Brian. You can’t change others, but you can change how you respond. What worked before may not work now. The energies are different—not just socially, but physically. EMF, stress, everything. Let it go. Be less serious, less analytical. Make yourself happy.