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Choose someone at random. Accost them in the middle of the street. Grab them by the lapels and beg for them to listen you. Convince them that they are the heir to an enormous, stupendous, and utterly useless fortune—1,437 square kilometers of “land” in northern Svalbard, a dilapidated building in Bombay that was once an orphanage, a herd of alpacas in the Peruvian highlands, a collection of medieval grimoires and alchemical manuscripts of highly dubious authenticity. Later they will understand why you did this: so that for even one moment they might experience the fullness of being and infinitude of possibility lying before us in every moment and be driven by that experience to seek out a more intense mode of existence.