We can't escape our heart's desire, Even when we dream of sacrifice; We're ineluctably compelled To do exactly our own will. If we try not to be self-serving, It is because that is what pleases us. The self-image that we hold in mind, Owns allegiance unswerving. We can't escape our heart's desire. To say we can is to be a liar Even unto our secret self. What we do is what we want, Even when we placate fear. We're caught in the grip of passion's fire, So we can't escape our heart's desire. The only way to change our fate Is to cultivate a different dream, See ourselves a different way, Adhere a little less to hate, Enslave ourselves to a different scheme Of more subtle aspiration; And yet we often reinstate Feelings we have long cast off. We're burning still in passion's grate, Trapped by lust's relentless fire: Thus we can't escape our heart's desire.
dedicated to Ian M Banks, Scottish SF author,who kicked the bucket not long ago.
I wrote this in response to a rather odd preamble in one of his books, on the topic
of selfishness. I thought his discussion interesting, but a little naive, due to a lack of
knowledge of yoga psychology.