Is This Really Something To Be Proud Of?

I find myself these days thinking about the beasts that have been unleashed upon society. In the United States, of course, it is Donald Trump who has made it acceptable to openly hate, mock, exclude and even kill. In Ontario, citizens have selected Doug Ford as their new premier. While both Trump and Ford masquerade as "for the people," they are really devoted only is unleashing the beast that resides in all of us, the most selfish and destructive aspects of humanity, for their own gain. All they have to do, as time goes on, is to find new targets for their diabolical agenda.

I was out walking, and a question occurred to me: What is it that people feel when they have had ample opportunity to spew their bile, vent their prejudices, vituperate a particular group or cause, or given the middle finger to succeeding generations by vociferously opposing any measures that might help mitigate the climate change that is quickly overtaking all of us? At least when we do something positive, whether it be a contribution to a cause, support for an issue, a personal kindness or gesture that recognizes and acknowledges our shared humanity, we are left at least a little enlarged, a little bigger inside for what we have attempted, maybe even a little more fulfilled.

What do those who choose to embrace the darkest paths feel?

Perhaps an appropriate frame, if not an answer, can be found from an episode of Breaking Bad, a series about a high school chemistry teacher who turns his resentments and the fact that he is dying into a crystal meth empire, one that ultimately costs countless lives. It was a show I was addicted to (no pun intended, well, okay, maybe a small one) despite the fact that it was the darkest meditation on human nature I have ever seen.

In the following scene, Jesse Pinkman, seduced into the crystal meth business by his former teacher, Walter White, have a discussion:

And this is where Jesse now found himself. Sat in his partner's living room, trying to set himself free from the life he could no longer be a part of, with Mr White not willing to allow him to go.

Finally, Walt spoke up again, his words hard and determined. And upon hearing them, Jesse knew he was fighting a battle he couldn't win.

"Jesse, you once asked me if I was in the meth business or the money business.” Walt looked up from his glass, and eyed Jesse. “I'm in the empire business.”

Jesse gaped back at him, and managed a small shake of his head. Bringing a hand up to cover his ever worsening head ache, he replied, “I don't know, Mr White. Is a meth empire really something to be that proud of?”

And that is the same question I pose here, in this later part of my life, looking at a world gone mad:

Is your embrace of a darkness that does nothing other than to weaken and to destroy really something to be proud of?

Our Paradoxical Species

Anyone who reads this blog regularly probably knows that I am something of a cynic when it comes to our species. Sure, there are many exceptions, but as a whole, we seem oblivious to our obligations to the world around us. Cossetted by our conveniences, our technologies and our bloated lifestyles, we far too often prefer to ignore all the evidence of the toll such indulgences take on the world.

I doubt that yesterday's message from the Pope will have much effect on us, given our endless capacity for kicking the ball down the road. The CBC reports the following:

In the message, Francis said the faithful should use the holy year to ask forgiveness for the "sins" against the environment that have been committed by the "irresponsible, selfish" and profit-motivated economic and political system.

He called for all of humanity to take concrete steps to change course, starting with repaying what he called the "ecological debt" that wealthy countries owe the poor.

"Repaying [the debt] would require treating the environments of poorer nations with care and providing the financial resources and technical assistance needed to help them deal with climate change and promote sustainable development," he wrote.

But on a personal, more local level, we all have a role to play, he said:

For example: “avoiding the use of plastic and paper, reducing water consumption, separating refuse, cooking only what can reasonably be consumed, showing care for other living beings, using public transport or car-pooling, planting trees, turning off unnecessary lights, or any number of other practices”.

Each of the above is easy to accomplish, but my hunch is that most can't be bothered, consumed as they are by the busyness of their lives.

Is our collective indifference because we can't personalize the existential threats we face (until, of course, we are flooded or burned out, of course)? I pose the question as I acknowledge the deeply paradoxical and conflicting facts of our nature. When, for example, we are called upon to act to help individuals, our courage can reach heroic, almost mythical proportions, as witnessed in the following:





How can we simultaneously be so selfish and so selfless? And more importantly, how can we harness what we are truly capable of for the common good? I wish I had some answers.

A Christmas Thought

While I was not going to post anything today, I offer the following brief thought:

During this season and throughout 2014, may our hearts be attuned to those who can inspire us rather than to those who seek to manipulate and subjugate. May we begin to rediscover, as our greatest moral heroes amply demonstrate, that it is possible to prevail over our natural selfishness and shortsightedness; we can be a much better people, and the world can still be a wondrous place in which to fulfill our potential.

And as we confront those who want us to believe only the worst about ourselves and our fellow human beings so as to make their policies easier to enact, we need to

Organize

Resist

Challenge

Change

Merry Christmas, everyone.

Lessons Learned, Lessons Forgotten

H/t Catherin Bradbury

'God save thee, ancient Mariner!
From the fiends, that plague thee thus!—
Why look'st thou so?'—With my cross-bow
I shot the ALBATROSS.

-excerpted from The Rime of The Ancient Mariner, by Samuel Coleridge

In what may seem like a very long time ago but is, by historical standards, really but a blink of the eye, our forebears had a quite healthy respect for nature. They knew of its power and its fury, its capacity both to give and to take, and the rhythms of the seasons imposed their own kind of discipline on people. Whether setting off on a sea voyage or planting crops, there was an innate understanding of humanity's place in the scheme of things. We were not the masters and mistresses of our own fates. Although we were bold and took many chances, propelled by our curiosity about the world around us, we still recognized our limitations.

Sadly, that wisdom has been forgotten.

When I was in the classroom, one of the works I delighted in teaching was Coleridge's The Rime of The Ancient Mariner. For me, the poem has always stood as a parable of humanity's willfulness; very briefly, it is the story of the humbling and horrible lesson a mariner must learn. The hubris informed by his own ego tells him that he is the pinnacle of creation and thus entitled to do as he pleases, with disastrous results.

In the early part of the poem, the Albatross is associated with good fortune, leading the sailors out of a dire predicament. After the crisis has passed, however, for reasons never directly explained, the Mariner, who is essentially the captain of the vessel, kills the albatross, an act that ultimately results in the death of his entire crew and the complete isolation, both physical and spiritual, of the Mariner. As I used to suggest to my students, he likely killed the Albatross simply because he could; in other words, it is one of those many heedless acts that seem to reflect so much of our human nature.

By the poem's end, the Mariner has learned his lesson, but at a horrible price. Unfortunately, in our time we seem, as a species, incapable of gaining such insights, the evidence of our willfulness so plentiful I will not insult you by pointing it out.

Every so often, even in our cossetted 'first-world' experience, we are reminded of our folly. In Southern Ontario, where I reside, yesterday's ice storm left parts of my community, including our house, without power for six hours, a minuscule inconvenience compared to the over 250,000 still without power in the Toronto area as I write this; some may even remain in the dark until at least Christmas Day.

Yet the storm, emblematic of a much more profound disturbance in the environment, will, as other countless disasters in recent years, go largely unremarked by the population at large and, of course, by those we entrust to lead us. Climate change amelioration? Carbon pricing? Valuing capital? Forget it. Adaptation? Maybe. But more likely our 'masters' will continue to say and do things that people want to hear: everything is fine, the economy is rebounding, and global warming is but a contentious 'theory'.

The Ancient Mariner learned a hard lesson that drastically altered the course of his life. It seems to be our fate as a short-sighted species never to learn ours.

Something Different

...to counteract the cynicism we can't help but feel following the political beat:

An Embodiment Of The Transcendent

Adrianne Haslet and Beth Roche are two faces of the human spirit I was trying to talk about the other day.

I am in awe.

Finding The Light Amidst Despair

During my teaching days, in the aftermath of 9/11 a student came to see me to discuss her feelings of helplessness and despair in the face of such monumental evil. While I had no special wisdom to offer her, I did say that although I had been witness to some terrible world events in my lifetime, I had never lost complete hope for one particular reason: if evil truly prevailed in this world, we would have destroyed ourselves by now. The fact that we haven't attests to something that the truly vile and depraved amongst us never acknowledge or admit to themselves – the human capacity for goodness, selflessness, and resilience.

I reminded her of the literature we had studied that attests to those qualities. John Steinbeck, in his best-known novel, The Grapes of Wrath, explored the concept of Manself, his term for the human spirit, a spirit that may certainly suffer setbacks, whether through violence in its many forms, beaten strikes or economic injustice, but remains alive, even in defeat, as long as people continue taking the steps necessary to oppose oppression in its many forms:

... Fear the time when the bombs stop falling while the bombers live- for every bomb is proof that the spirit has not died. And fear the time when the strikes stop while the great owners live – for every little beaten strike is proof that the step is being taken.

And this you can know- fear the time when Manself will not suffer and die for a concept, for this one quality is the foundation of Manself, and this one quality is man, distinctive in the universe.

During the recent bombings in Boston, that spirit was very much in evidence. People, despite not knowing where or when the next bomb might go off, instead of fleeing to the safety of shelter, tended to those who had sustained such grievous injuries. Whether doctors, passersby or marathon watchers, they thought of others before themselves:

This is why, whether we are talking about evil on a large or small scale, whether we are talking about suffering that seems to arbitrarily visit us either collectively or individually, hope remains alive, reminding all of us that every one of these moments of grace point the way to something greater, something that some would call transcendent, or to paraphrase Steinbeck, distinctive in the animal kingdom.

Mirror, Mirror, On The Wall...

It isn't always pleasant to look into the mirror, but I'm glad we have people like Chris Hedges to force us to on a regular basis.

Cynicism and Hope

Reading or writing about politics can be an exercise in both cynicism and hope: cynicism because the worst of human nature is often on display in the performance of our elected officials, and hope because of an underlying belief that our democratic system always allows for the possibility of change and improvement.

The following video, although not political, offers an antidote to our cynicism. I hope you will be as encouraged about humanity's potential as I was after viewing it.