The man at the cocktail party spoke with the conviction of a preacher.
“Think for a moment of Tiger’s situation before that fateful night with his car accident. He had everything: a billion dollars, a swimsuit model wife, a photogenic family, a mansion in Florida, and the adulation of everyone. Could any human life possibly be better? And then, then for some reason, he wanted more.” He paused for a moment before adding, ” That desire, that yearning, I believe, is for the transcendent.”
He went on, “Years ago I heard a wise man put it this way, ‘Think of the most pleasurable human experience possible. Imagine enjoying this incredibly pleasure for an hour, then a day, then a week, then a year, then a hundred years. Even at the end of a century of such bliss, you would still have a yearning for something more. And that yearning is the start of the search for the transcendent’.”
“So you see Tiger’s philandering as a sort of religious quest?” I asked.
“That might be over-stating things just a bit,” he said, as he drained his drink and then headed back towards the bar.