Contemplating Catastrophe
Friday, another “end” of the work-week. But this Friday is incomparable to any other that has ever been… The Starbucks room here at 3rd and State contains a configuration of individuals, various, by socio-economic status, or by the arc of a standard lifetime, a group of high school students, and I, a retiree… Never before has this room contained just this combination of individuals…
I propose this Friday as a matter of truth, is a reboot, a beginning of “life” afresh…
What if…
What if we did not reflect/project our finite lifespan, the foreboding of our demise, the extinguishing of our “self” as the entropy of the accumulation of years brings regression of physical and mental capabilities — what if we could live inside of another hypothesis: there is a hand-off, there is no end, but only a succession of reboots? Would not that make difference so great in the texture of society, in the quality of my own life, that is quite beyond our imagination? I think imagination is a muscle, a faculty amenable to increase in range, in strength by exercise. I would like to exercise my imagination toward picturing life as a chain of beads, or better, a four dimension matrix of field effects, which have no end as to influence, as to capacity for agency…
Earlier in the week a group of us discussed the ways in which an individual’s actions, for example my own, effect others, or even impinge upon the condition of Nature. This morning’s five minute drive from my home to the Starbucks location, involves my participation in long cause and effect chains… I receive my quotient of benefit (a brief, pleasant experience of transportation) which in turn is causal, with consequences for nature, and for other humans. It is complex, mind boggling to consider my support of the refining of hydrocarbon fuels, my financing of the roadways which necessarily tie together the capitalist system of a society, etc., etc., Could I opt out of all of this? Not entirely. Even if I lived on a “self-sufficient” homestead in the Rockies, nevertheless my participation in humankind would be undeniable.
In the final minutes of our discussion a member of our group was asked, in the light of the sobering wrap-up of a two hour exchange of ideas, “Do you still have hope?” The answer she gave continues to echo in my memory. She answered in the affirmative, that she plants trees on her property. There was no need to explain that a tree is an investment in the future, a vote cast in favor of a future of new beginnings. When one plants a tree late in life, it is reasonable to assume that others will be the beneficiary of the shade, or perhaps even the fruit of the tree when it reaches maturity.
