By Rajmund Dabrowski

If you are a writer, you can sense when a story will write itself. Such a moment came when I reached page 37 of Tom Rachman’s fascinating true-to-life novel The Imperfectionists. The story immediately began in my head—and was put to paper just a little later with my favorite Faber-Castell pencil.

Here’s the scenario: A reporter is sent to interview a once well-known and now-elderly author to prepare her obituary. Facts about her life were sparse. Reflecting on her own impending encounter with death, she describes the absurdity of remaining enthralled with ambition.

“It’s like being a slave all your life, then learning one day that you never had a master, and returning to work all the same. Can you imagine a force in the universe greater than this? Not in my universe. You know, even from the earliest childhood it dominated me. I longed for achievements, to be influential—that, in particular. To sway people. This has been my religion: the belief that I deserve attention, that they are wrong not to listen, that those who dispute me are fools. Yet, no matter what I achieve, the world lives on, impertinent, indifferent—I know all this, but I can’t get it through my head. It is why, I suppose, I agreed to talk to you. To this day, I’ll pursue any folly to make the rest of you shut up and listen to me, as you should have from the start!”

And she continues, “Here is a fact: nothing in all civilization has been as productive as ludicrous ambition. Whatever its ills, nothing has created more. Cathedrals, sonatas, encyclopedias: love of God was not behind them, nor love of life. But the love of man to be worshipped by man.”

This is one slice of our common folly. My folly certainly fits in this picture. Yet, there may be many good examples of self-denial, pursuit of oneness with nature, being engulfed in acts of compassion and generosity, as well as deeds to give back that which I took that make an appearance in my life, too. This is what Christianity is made out of.

But how often do such reflections enter my thinking, I ask myself?

My former boss had an uncanny way of bringing me back to earth. Once, my chest was bursting with pride as I shared one of my team’s great achievements and how happy we were to be recognized for it. “Aren’t we wonderful,” he said, and walked on. It was a moment to forget, I thought at the time. My treasure trove of life’s experiences brought that moment back to me again as I read the words— “ . . . the belief that I deserve attention.”

Frankly, I admit creating lots of madness in my own life. Sometimes lessons come, and they are forgotten rather instantly in the fog of pursuing praise.

A masterpiece in life is decided by the reactions of others. They will tell you when they see it.

In the words of Scriptures, “Don’t indulge your ego at the expense of your soul,” (1 Peter 2:11, The Message).

Rajmund Dabrowski is RMC communication director.