It’s interesting how at night when we walk by a home and a light is on we always take a closer look. Not with criminal intent (well hopefully anyway) but our of sheer curiosity. Who lives there? What are they doing? The furnishings look old, I like their wallpaper, they’re watching TV – I wonder what’s on? We can’t talk to them though. The door is closed, it is forbidden. After all how creepy would it be if we walked up, knocked on the door and said, “you don’t know me, but may I come in and have a look around?” But what if it wasn’t?
What if all doors on all homes were unlocked? What if, when walking down the street we simply popped in out of curiosity or just a desire to meet with and talk to someone we didn’t know five minutes ago. What stops us? Is the criminal element so pervasive amongst our species that it is categorically impossible to open our doors to only those who have been well and truly vetted?
It seems a shame to miss out on the companionship, life experience and lessons thereof, imaginative inspirations and the possibility to lift one another out of poverty and despair simply because we allow fear of our own people to corral us into locked cages.
There will always be evil amongst us, but to let fear of the few rule the many is simply incarceration by choice, in my opinion. I know an era of opening doors will never happen in my lifetime and sadly probably not in the ones to come. It’s a shame that with all our intellectual development over the centuries that we still can’t manage to make the world of our reality more appealing than the world’s of our imagination.
I think too often people forget that throughout the natural world there is far more recognizable systems of order than instances of chaos. Just like a jigsaw puzzle, in its initial inception it is a whole and only later broken down into individual parts. What started off as a whole can be made whole again no matter how wide and far you may scatter the pieces. It is fascinating to think that this particular creations starts off as complete only to be scattered, rather than simply a pile of pieces that is gradually built into a whole not knowing if that wholeness is even achievable.
Society is no different when you view it through a similar metaphorical lens. We’re all different shapes, sizes and colors. We’re all linked together by the singular undeniable fact despite all our differences, we are of the same species- hence part of a singular puzzle that is labeled “human.” It takes a great deal of time to align all our pieces so that they fit together in harmony, but there is an absolute guarantee that it can be done.
There is certainly a distinct advantage to all of our different sizes, shapes and colors as well. Just think, how much more difficult would it be to put together a puzzle where all of the shapes were the exact same size, shape and color. With no mechanism for interlocking or even distinguishing one piece from another, although the puzzle has a way to revert to its original order it is all but impossible for anyone to ever achieve it.
Watching the news the other day they had a series of reports on severe storms that had killed several people. Honestly, how many of us change the channel when they’re talking about a story created by the weather? Now in turn, how many stay glued to the channel when there has been a terrorist attack or simply a murder in your community?
It’s almost as if we’re completely disinterested in “acts of God (or nature depending on your philosophical preference).” They’re unpreventable, unexplainable…end of story. Yet acts of man demand our complete devoted attention. We want to know why he/she did it, what was the method they used, where did they grow up, what were they into (the more salacious, the more we’re intrigued) that made them go mad etc.?
Were victims in either natural or unnatural cases not both taken before their time in unexpected circumstances? Why do we forgive and forget the transgressions of God/nature but not of man?
Do we feel powerless against God/nature but powerful amongst are own? If we do have a power amongst our own that we don’t have against God/nature then why are there ever any murders? If we’re all united against murder then how is it that so many still consider it a means to an end? We always say we have to unite so it doesn’t happen again and then seconds later somewhere in the world, whether it is one or a thousand and one, it happens again. Is the sword mightier than the pen, does love not conquer all?
We can do little aside from building stronger shelters to stop God/nature from killing us, but have we also given up on what we do have more options in defeating, namely stopping unnatural death amongst our own species? Or is the ability to stop it just as impotent as our ability to change the weather? If so, why do we still find dissecting it so compelling?
More and more these days I am dismayed at how practically ever book I pick up, even the supposedly high brow stuff, contains profanity. Either cursing, lewd situations or graphic violence. Not only is it not terribly pleasurable to read in my humble opinion, I can practically guarantee it will not survive the test of time because as I always say if it isn’t repeatable it isn’t sustainable.
Shocking me doesn’t inspire me, it makes me put the book down. When a friend or stranger riding with me on the tram asks what I’m reading I’m not going to share an explicit sex passage or repeat verbatim a slew of vocabulary that would make the person sitting next to me frankly think I was trash and hide their children from me.
The social media of old was men, women and children sitting around a fire telling stories that all ages could listen to. They in turn passed them down to generations to come over and over again. There were lines you could quote, lessons you could learn and tales that could be repeated without making sure all the kids were “age appropriate.”