Here is a lightly edited version of the transcript that polishes the grammar and improves readability while keeping the original context, structure, and conversational flow completely intact: Welcome to Daily Bitachon and our Sha'ar HaBechina . We are discussing the factors that interfere with or ruin our contemplation of what God does for us. The Chovot HaLevavot starts by telling us to look back at the beginning of the book, which discusses three initial interferences: namely, that we get used to everything, we always desire more, and we allow the things in our lives that don't go right to interfere. And now for reason number four—an additional reason that applies specifically to Bechina —and that is a person's arrogance when it comes to the benefits of God. A person often thinks, "I am deserving of this and more." In the author's words: יחשוב הכסיל הפתי כי הוא ראוי להן וליותר להן ( "The foolish fool thinks that he is worthy of them and of more than them" ). Because of this, he does not contemplate what God gave him, and he doesn't feel a need to praise and thank Hashem. As it says in the pasuk in Mishlei 16:5: תועבת ה' כל גבה לב ( "Every proud heart is an abomination to the Lord" ); it's an abomination to God when anyone is arrogant. This is a very eye-opening concept. Who doesn't have a little arrogance? The text is telling us that we feel this way because we think, "Do you know who I am? I deserve so much more." I still remember an advertisement for an expensive watch, and at the bottom, it said, "You deserve it." That is the feeling of many people today. "I deserve this; I worked hard." People use that term all the time: "You deserve it." Rav Wolbe writes about this topic in his Alei Shur (Volume 2, page 278), where he gives two reasons why we lack hakarat hatov (gratitude). Number one is hamuskal harishon , which we could translate as an axiom—something that is accepted as self-evident, a premise, or prior knowledge. There is no exact English term to translate this type of basic assumption. For example, it's like saying hamuskal harishon dictates that a person who was raised in the lap of luxury is spoiled. That's a muskal rishon , even though it might not always be that way. Rav Wolbe says that our hamuskal harishon is to understand שהכל מובן מאליו בעולם —that everything in the world is self-understood. It means we believe things are simply supposed to be there. Of course there's supposed to be a sun, a moon, and mountains. What's the question? It's just obvious. And everything is deserved. This happens because a person is born without intelligence; as they grow and become intelligent, everything seems self-understood and feels like it has to be that way. A person thinks he has to be healthy, and he has to be full and complete in his bodily functions. This is similar to what we said at the beginning of the Chovot HaLevavot's Sha'ar HaBechina —that a person gets used to everything—but Rav Wolbe is adding a little nuance here. It's not just that a person is used to it, but because he is used to it, he feels entitled . Because he is raised by parents when he is young, he thinks that is just the way it's supposed to be. You're supposed to have parents to take care of everything you need and desire. So he thinks, "Why should I thank my mother? That's what she's supposed to be doing." Furthermore, a person is born with a fundamental ego to see himself as the center of the world, believing everything was made for him. Therefore, whatever people do for him is deserved. Why should he thank anybody? He is the center of the world. Now, this is an interesting concept, because in a way, it is true. The whole world is there to serve you. That is a Gemara : Bishvili Nivra HaOlam ( "For my sake the world was created" ). But what does it mean that it was made for you? It was made to be a tool for you to serve Hashem, not because you are the center of the universe. Rav Wolbe says you need a lot of hard work to wean yourself off this original axiom and to teach yourself that nothing is self-understood. You are not entitled to anything, and everything you receive is considered a chessed ve'tovah (a kindness and a favor). That is the job of hakarat hatov . It doesn't make a difference if it's benefits you receive from God or benefits you receive from people; it is our job to constantly train ourselves that everything—literally everything—is a benefit and a kindness to us. Life itself is not self-understood. As it says in Eicha : מה יתאונן אדם חי ( "Why should a living man complain?" ). The Gemara in Kiddushin 80b expounds on this: מה יתאונן על מדותיו ( "How could you complain about God's ways?" ), וכי גבר על חטאו ( "Has he overcome his sins?" ), דייו חיים שנתתי לו ( "It is enough that I gave him life" ). Rashi explains: what are you complaining about regarding what's going on with you? Everything is a chessed . The very fact that you're alive is a chessed . Rabbi Miller brings a beautiful mashal (parable) about this. Imagine a man in a concentration camp standing in a long line, and he is on the wrong line. Someone comes over to him and says, "I can save you." For argument's sake, let's say it's Schindler. Schindler is there and says, "Listen, Yankel, I can save you, but there are a few conditions." Yankel says, "Go ahead, what are they?" "Well, first of all, you're never really going to own your own house. You're going to live in an apartment." "Okay, I'll take that." "You're going to have a wife that's difficult. It's going to be a difficult marriage; she's not going to be that easy." "I'll take that." "Some of your children are going to have challenges and will not be that easy to raise." "I'll take that." "Are you sure? You might never be able to go on a trip to Florida." "I'll take that." "You might also never be able to go away for the summer." "I'll take that." Why? Because he is giving him life. But now, here we are, used to having homes, nice spouses, good children, and vacations. Therefore, we are not happy unless we get all of those things. And when we do get those things, we think, "What do you mean? Of course I should live in a house. Shouldn't I get married? Shouldn't I have children? Of course." This is what is termed in our modern world as a sense of entitlement, which means a stable, pervasive belief that one inherently deserves special treatment, unique privileges, or an exempt status from standard rules, without any obligation to earn or reciprocate those benefits. Now, everyone has a bit of that. Of course, there is a spectrum, and it can come to a point where it becomes a clinical description. But overcoming this is our job. Rav Friedlander, in his book Sifrei Sifsei Chaim - Chinuch (page 70), says: "I remember when I was in the house of my rabbi and teacher, Rav Eliyahu Eliezer Dessler. It was a hot day, and his wife, the Rebbetzin, brought him a glass of cold water. Wow, did he say thank you! With a large smile on his face, he made a big, full statement, really thanking her for that glass of water as if she had done the biggest favor in the world for him. It was not taken as self-understood." Entitlement is the source of a lot of complaints in marriages. You hear, "My wife doesn't make dinner when I come home." Well, who said she has to? "What do you mean? That's what all wives do." Not necessarily so. There is a famous Gemara about an Amora whose wife used to make his life very difficult. When he asked for oatmeal, she brought him cold cereal; when he asked for cold cereal, she brought him oatmeal. His son was watching this and said, "Dad, why don't you just ask for oatmeal when you want cold cereal, and ask for cold cereal when you want oatmeal?" The father replied, "You shouldn't teach yourself how to lie." Yet, this same rabbi was later seen at a wedding wrapping up some cookies to bring home to his wife. Someone said to him, "Your wife? She's the most difficult woman in the world!" His answer was, "It's enough that she takes care of my children and saves me from sin." Those are the two fundamentals of marriage. Does that mean it's supposed to be an automatic entitlement to have a wife? Of course you should say thank you. There is a deal when you get married—there's a ketubah —and the basic responsibilities of marriage are just that. Everything else after that is gravy. We are going to see that this is exactly how the world was built. There is a chessed of Hakadosh Baruch Hu. Olam chessed yibaneh —the world is built on kindness. It wasn't that Hashem had to create a world. He wasn't forced to create a world, and He had nothing to gain from creating it. He is perfect; He doesn't need us, and He has everything already. So what was the point of creating a world? To do chessed . To do kindness. To give to us, and to give us existence. That is the shoresh —the root—of everything.