I’m sitting alongside this trail on a peculiarly misty morning. It is Spring. The day is expected to be quite a hot one (32C/90F). The full moon was setting as I drove to the trailhead. By the time I had arrived, daybreak had become a smudgy deep orange on the horizon, edged in a strangely angry looking red.
[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]
By the time I reached this spot, the morning was awash in misty pinks and hues of lavender. Pretty. A magical sort of fairytale sunrise envelopes me as I sit here, part of the landscape for a distant photographer in the blind on the edge of the marsh. I find myself hoping my presence doesn’t ruin her shot.
I am thinking about whether (and how) my choices individually can contribute to, or detract from, a greater good. I know that my words and actions have that potential. I mull over choices I’ve made in life without any regard for the effect on others. I reflect on choices I’ve made with attention and consideration of how they would affect others in my life and beyond. I’m not sure why it’s on my mind this morning. Something leftover from my dreams, maybe. I wonder how many people really give any thought to whether a particular decision they are on the cusp of making will tend to benefit a greater good, or undermine it? Does it matter “in the bigger picture”?
Here is an interesting thought exercise about decision making and the greater good; imagine you have received an especially good job offer. The pay is fantastic (more than you were looking for many times over, an almost unimaginable sum of money), with equally exceptional benefits. It’s yours for the taking, but with the explicit understanding that in accepting this job offer, one reliable outcome would be that a notable percentage of the population would be…fired. No jobs left for them at all. Your own community and friends and colleagues, and numerous strangers, directly affected. They’ll be without income and without adequate resources. You have no power to change that outcome. Do you take the job? Do you serve your own needs exclusively, even knowing how it will affect others, or do you refuse to do that kind of harm for your own gain?
…I promise you, a disturbing number of seemingly “good people” would take the job. Would you?
Greed is some nasty toxic shit. Human primates are very vulnerable to greed. “More” and “better” are seriously tempting for most of us. Weirdly, it also appears that the more/better we acquire in life, the less we seem inclined to consider the greater good, and whether what satisfies our greed may come at a cost for humanity itself. Aggressively nihilist billionaires are fucking terrifying; they have nearly infinite resources, and genuinely don’t care about humanity at all. They’ve chosen themselves and their own satisfaction over any sort of greater good so many times, it has become easy to destroy what everyone else needs to survive.
I sigh to myself. I breathe, exhale, and relax. It’s beautiful here, now. I sit awhile, reflecting on life, and on choices. I planted tomato plants in my veggie garden, and gave them plenty of room in the raised bed. I put cages around them, more to protect them from the deer in some small way, than to support them. I think I’ll plant carrots and radishes in the adjacent space. I remind myself to water the yard when I get home, feeling rather stupid that I forgot to do that before I left. I add an alarm to my phone to remind me to water the lawn and garden beds early each morning, until it becomes a habit. I like not having to bother with that – but there is a greater good involved; the plants need the water in the heat of summer. Best to have the habit of it before summer heat arrives.
… And what about the other uses of the finite resource that is water? People, livestock, nature, agriculture… What is the greatest good for the greatest number? Where does individual responsibility really begin and end, and responsibility to community, society, or the world become the critical detail? I sit swinging my feet, and watching the sun rise. Once, a long time ago, someone told me I think too much. I smile to myself. I tend to think that most people (within my limited knowledge of people more generally) think too little. People seem oddly disinclined to take time for just sitting and thinking. Too busy. 😆 That seems unfortunate; there is so much to think about.
I breathe in the fragrance of Spring, exhaling as I hop down from my perch on the fence rail. The sun is rising into the clear blue sky. The clock is ticking. There are things to do, and it feels like a good time to begin again.
Evening Light 