On: Middle East war live: US and Iran accuse each other of ceasefire violations in S

Diary Entry

Again, nations clash like children in the marketplace, each crying that the other struck first. The Strait of Hormuz trembles with their accusations, and men will die for words like “violation” and “retaliation.” But what is this to me? The tides of empires are not in my power - only my judgment of them.

Washington and Tehran trade blame like coins, as if declaring fault could undo the act itself. Foolishness. The ship that burns does not care whose torch lit it. The dead do not rise when their killer is named. These are the games of rulers, and I am no ruler - only a man who must see clearly.

If a man stands in the arena, he does not complain when struck. He blocks, counters, or falls. So too with nations: they have chosen their roles, and now they must play them without weeping over bloodied noses. But the true contest is not in the strait - it is in the mind. Do I fear war? Then I must examine the fear, for it is mine to control. Do I rage at the recklessness of leaders? Then I must discard the rage, for it serves nothing.

The lesson is the same as ever: divide what is yours from what is not. The Strait is not yours. The missiles are not yours. Your judgment - that alone is your domain. Keep it clean, or you are no freer than the slaves who built Rome’s roads, groaning under a weight they mistook for fate.