We ask too little of the world...

(from July 16, 2008)

It looks like looming thundershowers. Dark clouds, intermittent sunlight, and waiting trees. The fifth floor is the ideal balcony height. Close enough to reach out and touch the trees, high enough to catch sunlight and grow tomatoes and peppers. Well, actually just one pepper, so it looks like the little plant is putting all its effort into this one magnum opus, its only child. On evenings such as this I revert to my most common state, perplexity. The world is absolutely fascinating. It’s mesmerizing. My mind and this world are such an unlikely duo, and yet what a dynamic match! So many things warrant a lifetime dedicated to their study and appreciation. Among the most amazing are plant life, human cities, clouds, birds, cars and our minds. We value novelty too much and we ask too little of the world. Imagine if a thunderstorm only happened once every thousand years. Imagine the news coverage, the enraptured tears of those lucky enough to witness the miracle. Why does the world stop and take notice of a baby only when it is born with four arms and four legs? When did we stop being amazed at the ones with two arms and two legs?

Another source for endless speculation and fascination are the structures of the world, and I mean the structures between people. Between individuals or between nations, the struggle is always for power. The rich do everything they can to stay that way, and even the help that they provide serves them more than anyone else. It is hard to imagine things any other way. Poor countries have to develop their own industry and identity. Weak people need to find their own voice. In both cases, this is to the detriment of the powerful. The powerful can quash these efforts and they often do. They do it as if they had the right. They even make laws that supposedly give them the right. I have to think that in the end, power belongs to those with the most audacity.

Yet, we ask too little of the world. The powerful and audacious are selling themselves short. It’s a silly goal, in the end, to control things. There are better ways to live out your time, no? If the world fascinates you, you’ll always have things to learn. If helping people makes you happy, you’re in luck; you couldn’t have been born into a better world. But if you want to possess it all, contentment is much more precarious, more is the one thing that will always be wanting.

So, after reading about atrocity upon atrocity committed by people against people, systems to which I owe my comfort while others owe their distress, it hurts me but not yet to the core. We ask too little of the world, and so the imbalance between rich and poor seems greater. What do the rich have over the poor? More comfort, to be sure. Respite, but not freedom from death. More education but no more wisdom. Fewer worries but also more worries, a worry shift from healthy children to home security. If we asked more of the world, more than just money, my theory is that the money problems would ease up as well. Imagine if people started living as if they mattered, everyone else mattered, and the world was pretty good the way it is. Happier people are more generous, right? If money isn’t the focus of life it should be easier to part with.

What we call development might be more than getting power and money to the poor by prying it from the rich by a conscientious--or guilty--few within their own ranks. It might be development as a human race, development as if people mattered. If there is hope for us, it lies within ourselves. Better technology, but better distribution of the technology we do have. Better education, but education to celebrate curiosity and wisdom. Better health, but healthier lifestyles. There are people who really need development to stave off early and widespread death, and they are living in certain places, and there are people who need development to grow as people, and they are found everywhere.