Ownership

I am standing outside my bank, watching another man with a gun as he smashes my car window and jump starts it to speed away from the scene.
Who owns my car; me, my bank which I make the loan payments to, or the car thief?

I suspect that the bank might assert that they do. At that moment in time, however, I do not think that the CEO of the bank is going to argue with the thief on the matter.

The thief owns it, until he discards it, or it is taken from him.

“But that’s not legal!”

Perhaps not. The thief does not care. It is his, for now.

The conflict between “taking something by force” and “legal ownership” is murky. We take things by force when it suits us, such as when we took lands from the Native Americans. OK fine so that was 400 years ago – “Move on!” you say. We’re here now and we’ve established law and order. There is a system in place that works, it protects me & my possessions.

I do respect law & order. I need it. I need it because I don’t think I’m ready for the truth quite yet. For the notion that I don’t own anything.

My car is not mine. Neither is my house, or my body. I merely control them for a few moments in time.

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