According to the Russian Humanists we go through life enthralled with our fog of illusion, what William Blake called our mind forg'd manacles. I suppose the internal stream of consciousness most seriously afflicts introverted types, but probably everyone to some extent; the immediate experiences of life put their mark on us.
This came to me early this morning in my "quiet time":
Every Thusday morning, clothed in my hospital volunteers garb, I'm away for the hospital before 7 A.M. In ten minutes I'm parking in the hospital garage (and hoping I can remember where I've parked). I walk up the hill to the back door of the hospital-- and encounter personnel from the midnight shift returning to their cars. "In every face I meet marks of weakness, marks of woe"? Yes, but in varying degrees: some, very much, others, not so much! They've been instructed to smile at the volunteers, and some return my smile, those whose mind-forg'd manacles are least pernicious.
How do you escape those manacles? First of all you must become conscious of them; then look up, bring the corners of your mouth up, stand up straight, and here's the best part: pray for those poor souls who have given their all to get poor sick people alive. Thank God for them!!