We are afraid of the wrong things

Are we afraid of wrong things?

Interesting point, and backs it up with plenty of subjective as well as statistical evidence. We are more afraid of terrorism than of dying of ill effects caused by the operations of our own industries, and  is a much higher cause of death than the former. We are convinced by the media that it is very dangerous for anybody to walk city streets because of “random” crime. But, as points out, violent crime is anything but random.

We tend to be afraid of things shown by the things that are constantly in the news.Do we have defense of being afraid of wrong things?

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Yes, but the answer is going to make us yawn and wishing to turn the page or jumping into another area of pretending. The answer is slow, painful, continuous education of us. A process that is mostly up to us, that requires reading widely and discussing openly, that can eat into your TV or golf time, and that would make us more friendly only with the listening crowd. Then again, maybe the greatest responsibility of the citizens of a democracy is exactly to educate themselves, if nothing else in preparation for the next trip to the voting booth.

Not all who wander are lost.

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All that is gold does not glitter; not all those that wander are lost.

 

Courage is found in unlikely places.

 

Faithless is he/she that says farewell when the road darkens.

 

The wise speak only of what they know.

 

Deep roots are not reached by frost.

 

The Road goes ever on and on down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, and I must follow, if I can, pursuing it with eager feet, until it joins some larger way where many paths and errands meet. And whither then? I cannot say.

 

There is nothing like looking, if you want to find something. You certainly usually find something, if you look, but it is not always quite the something you were after.

 

Not all who wander are lost.

 

All that is gold does not glitter, not all those who wander are lost; the old that is strong does not wither, deep roots are not reached by the frost. From the ashes a fire shall be woken, a light from the shadows shall spring; renewed shall be the blade that was broken, the crownless again shall be king.