Did Eckhart Tolle’s meteoric rise signal the last gasp of a culture unwilling to look at its past or take responsibility for its future?
These days I barely make a move without thinking about the consequences. Last night, I stared at my 5-month old daughter, marveling at the miracle of her being. I stroked the round curve of her belly, gazed into her bright blue eyes. My chest warmed as she cooed ecstatically back at me. Had life ever been so new and wonderful? Then, my mind wandered. I reached over her breathtaking being for my computer. I was on deadline.
With that reach came a flood of thoughts—would Vivian be forever scarred by my multitasking? Would her brain waves be altered by the glow of the computer screen? And worse, did the work I had to do really matter when such beauty lay before me?