Category: Spirit

Sometimes I wonder what’s going on with humanity. I know I’m not alone in that thought, but somehow that doesn’t really help much. I mean, what is it we’re all a part of? And why are we treating each other this way?

This sense of human life having intrinsic worth and dignity, each person being valuable and deserving of respect, seems to have truly flown right out the window at some elusive point in the past. I’m pretty sure I’m not wrong in thinking it’s a principle that used to be there? A fundamental part of life that carried more weight than simply being a legal premise everyone’s intent on testing at every turn.

Looking back, it does seem there was some degree of basic respect for human existence. Obviously, between different communities, respect for “others” was perhaps as lacking as today, but within those communities it seems people had value or that there was at least some attempt at civility or recognition for what each person brought to society.

Western as much as ancient thinkers were always grappling with the worth of life, the responsibility of being human, the “right” way to integrate people into social structures so individuals might find fulfilment and collective needs be met. There was this “weight” to the task of humanity; the challenges we faced; the moral or spiritual significance of different arrangements; and how well essential values found their home (Notes One).

But, somewhere along the line, we’ve become so incredibly quick to judge and dismiss one another. All this talk at the level of society where we’re blaming, belittling, mocking others within our community. All the ways people are goaded or cast aside for lapses in judgement, innocent mistakes or situations beyond their control. People being hounded or deconstructed seemingly as sport or a display of mental prowess. (Notes Two)

Writing this, I’m also wondering if I’m somehow missing the point or being “precious” about our worth? Is it simply the “modern way” to be slightly callous and dismissive, to view things with a cold intellectual gaze that’ll happily deconstruct another human existence then discard it under some withering psychological assessment? Is that almost a by-product of critical thinking and freedom of speech?

Surely it can’t be “right” from a human perspective that anyone’s life be picked over as if by vultures: exposing their vulnerabilities, pouncing on inevitable weaknesses or imperfections, turning them inside out and declaring their life “not worth living”? Isn’t every life something of a mystery, a miracle, an amazing phenomenon of consciousness, experience, identity, thought and purpose? (Notes Three)

Sometimes my writing takes me by surprise, as if I’m not sure what indignation is bubbling up deep within my soul. Here, I think it’s simply that – philosophically – human life, any human life, is an incredible gift that’s worthy of respect, courtesy, dignity, love. Of course, societies have their challenges to be worked out, but I don’t think I’m missing the point in placing humanity above many other concerns.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Plato & “The Republic”
Note 1: “The Measure of a Man”
Note 1: If society’s straining apart, what do we do?
Note 1: Working through mind & society
Note 2: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 2: Empathy in a world that happily destroys
Note 2: Is anything obvious to someone who doesn’t know?
Note 2: Living as an open wound
Note 3: Beauty in unexpected places
Note 3: The difference humanity makes
Note 3: Absolute or relative value

Parallel to these thoughts, Finding flaws was looking at what we make of our individual or collective potential.

Love really seems this fundamental force, driving so much of what we do in life. And, obviously, that can get played upon, confused with other things and twisted into many contorted versions of itself – as any force can be, if misdirected. Beyond that, though, there’s clearly a very human need to love and be loved, whatever that might mean.

To a large extent, aren’t we all driven by love? By the desire for understanding, acceptance, recognition. By the hope of belonging: a place we feel at peace, free to be ourselves, completely at home. That space we can trust, open up without fear, and have all our dreams and difficulties acknowledged while we’re working our way through them.

At its core, love seems this powerful, complete acceptance and appreciation of who we are as people on our journeys: a recognition of where we’ve come from, ways that shaped us, the things we hope to bring into life and those we’re struggling to leave behind. Humans truly seem more works in progress than finished products, much as modern society might try to tell us differently (Notes One).

And, pushing the boundaries of that, might the challenge of life itself be in extending that courtesy of love to all humanity? Past, present, future, near or far. This sense of treating everyone with loving respect, concern and consideration so we’re all able to offer what we can while fulfilling our needs and overcoming our inevitable obstacles. We’re all human, all essentially the same, all seeking that recognition from others of our kind.

We might hope we’ll find such acceptance within family, friendships, romance, community or society more broadly: that we’ll be seen for who we truly are and what we’d like to make of ourselves; valued for our presence and all we have to offer by way of unique talents, insights or strengths; and allowed to be the flawed, wounded, learning people we almost inevitably are (Notes Two). If we’re all the same, how could we act otherwise?

When people don’t feel loved, deserving of love or capable of expressing it, that evidently causes serious problems for them, those around them, and society as a whole. So, rather than schmaltzy, sentimental, self-serving notions of love or coldly psychological assessments of someone’s “need for validation”, might love not be an eminently practical and essential foundation for healthy human coexistence? (Notes Three)

Often though, this very human need for recognition seems to be played upon or made light of as a means for personal, commercial or societal control: natural insecurities around our worth, value, and place within social relationships dovetailing into various industries that, at times, seem to be feeding or capitalising on all this. It’s clearly an effective button to press.

Is it possible to act only out of love? Globally as much as personally, how might that change things? Instead of this being misdirected down ultimately unfulfilling and often circular avenues, could it actually become an incredibly beautiful and potent force for change?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Worthless, or priceless?
Note 1: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 1: Cycles of mind & matter
Note 1: Culture as reflection
Note 2: Starting over in life
Note 2: Letting go of “who you are”
Note 2: How we feel about society
Note 2: We’re all vulnerable
Note 2: Masks we all wear
Note 3: And, how much can we care?
Note 3: Seeing, knowing and loving
Note 3: Love of self

How free are we? In many ways, we’re dependent on systems and relationships – commitments and necessities that might effectively curtail our ability to choose as freely as we’d like. But, in the West, we also have a great deal of freedom to make choices that dramatically shape the world around us. It’s perhaps the essence of democracy, and of market economies.

We might reason that, as beings so conditioned by environment, we’re not as free as we’d think: that, methods of thinking passed down by others and choices determined by systems beyond our control, freedom’s an illusion. That there’s maybe only one logical “choice” based on our situation and the paths offered. As if we’re just going through the motions of freedom.

Maybe it’s true to some extent? Our lives being dependent on collective infrastructures, we perhaps can’t or shouldn’t act in ways that undermine them. And, our being and understanding having been so shaped by the ideas surrounding us, we’re perhaps not quite free to think in ways not already determined by such systems. We are, perhaps, products of our environments (Notes One).

Then there’s the uncertainty over whether our choices even matter. In a world of billions or country of millions, do we make any kind of difference? If this is “how things are”, do we have much choice but to go along with it? Faced with powerful social or commercial enterprises, can a person or group realistically hope to see their choices have discernible impacts?

And, if that’s the case – if established systems are woven tightly around us on such a scale as to make individual action look ineffective – is it more logical to go with the flow? To accept the notional choices we’re offered, predictably interact with systems as they’re presented to us, and make our decisions so we, personally, get ahead. It seems a limited conception of freedom.

What, then, do we bring to life? Do our hopes, intentions and feelings about all we engage in “matter” if such principles are being drowned out by modern practicalities? Are some things worth fighting for, even if it seems an uphill battle? (Notes Two)

These are all questions of personal agency and belief – our response to life being all that we’re putting out into the world. As actors within complex social realities, we’re surely influencing one another through the standards we accept and choices we’re engaging with? We’re perhaps these points of consciousness where corrections could be made (Notes Three).

Whether we recognise our power or trust its significance – that it matters, and we can and do make many differences – seems such an important thing to grapple with. In countless small ways, everything we do and say must add up and ripple into the world; so, whether we’re aware of it or not, we’re all constantly building up and maintaining shared realities.

We might approach the nature of our freedom and responsibility any number of ways, but it could well be one of life’s most essential questions.

Notes and References:

Note 1: What we know to pass on
Note 1: Working through mind & society
Note 1: Who should we trust?
Note 2: What we bring to life
Note 2: Can we reinvigorate how we’re living?
Note 2: Tuning out from environment
Note 2: Values on which we stand firm?
Note 2: How important is real life?
Note 3: Ideas that tie things together
Note 3: Points of sale as powerful moments
Note 3: Making adjustments
Note 3: And, how much can we care?

Unintentionally, a fair few of my recent posts have been circling in on ideas around understanding – this sense in which our minds attempt to keep pace with reality, hopefully making sense of things and finding constructive ways forward (see Notes One). Understanding being one of the main capacities that sets us apart as humans, it’s perhaps not unreasonable to ask how well it’s holding up against modern living.

As beings capable of thought, it’s intriguing to consider what we make of life: how everything’s passing into our minds, creating our sense of meaning, guiding our ideas of how to be. All the ways we’re receiving feedback around what we’re doing, what it means for others, the impacts we’re having and value we’re bringing to life through our presence.

It just seems, in a way, that life flows through us. Over time, developing into these trends or threads: areas of human endeavour and expertise; shared insights, breakthroughs, or battles; this pooled history of experience and meaning we can all dip into. It’s surely this process of understanding? Of coming to know, appreciate, value and relate ourselves to what’s gone before, and learning to stand within that (Notes Two).

Then, we come across those challenges that seem fairly unique to modern humanity: navigating the application of technology; maintaining true relationship within this illusion of heightened connectivity; seeing what’s really going on, the effect we’re having, and how that might shift the ‘bigger picture’ of our lives together on earth; finding our place within it all (Notes Three).

In so many ways, modern life can seem ‘less real’ while simultaneously creating global impacts on levels never before possible. Wrapping our heads around the nature of those realities, the very real impacts our almost deceptively easy online actions are having, is quite a feat for the imagination: to bear in mind all those consequences we’re causing but never really seeing.

It’s interesting how much has been taken off our hands and made easy, invisible, and careless. These fickle, surging trends that now sweep the globe, leaving us musing over what’s left in their wake. It seems we struggle to lift our understanding of it much beyond ‘recognition’ – a cataloguing of what’s happening rather than a concerted, coherent response.

Modern trends of communication and innovation are clearly shaking up all that went before: disrupting traditions, established institutions and patterns of behaviour. There was presumably meaning and intention in those things? Each culture’s evolved responses to life’s challenges. We’d achieved some level of understanding, then the tornado of modern life swept through.

And perhaps that’s simply exciting: fresh air, blowing the cobwebs away, casting new light on how things have been. But, of course, it’s going to be confronting. Did we understand fully? Have we been passing on the right things? Can we relate to those who’ve taken different paths, with different ideas?

Is it still possible to understand life in such a way that all this makes sense and we can find purpose within it?

Notes and References:

Note 1: The power of understanding
Note 1: If society’s straining apart, what do we do?
Note 1: Can we manage all-inclusive honesty?
Note 1: Making adjustments
Note 2: The dignity & power of a human life
Note 2: Meaning within it all
Note 3: Working through mind & society
Note 3: All that’s going on around us
Note 3: Cutting corners

This also reminds me of Intrinsic values on the paths for change? which asked questions around the insight and motivation of our actions.

There are conceivably these webs of causality that trail around the globe, linking abstract or disparate realities through time and space into these intricate relationships of meaning and consequence. It seems true of history, geology, human civilisation in all its forms. This sense in which all things are related, building upon one another and what’s gone before into this complex picture of what life is.

Like the butterfly’s wing, in that small and seemingly insignificant actions can develop into something far more note-worthy. Yet the nature of our thinking seems to be that we take things in isolation, wanting to forget that’s never really the case (see Notes One). As soon as we’re taking anything out of the realm of theory it’s having to make its way through convoluted realities we may or may not see coming.

And I’m aware writing this that it’s a thought we’re often encouraged not to think. Arguably, it might make us feel depressed and powerless at the nature of existence: the complexity of these collective interwoven systems we can barely hope to understand, let alone influence. But if it’s true that everything’s connected and all our actions ‘come home’ somewhere, might it be a mistake not to think about it?

These days, those complex interconnections are in many ways becoming more apparent: technology, in attempting to remaster them, is effectively also bringing them to light alongside the realities they’re creating for the natural, political, and interpersonal world (Notes Two). It might not be at all easy to wrap our head around these systems we’re all part of, but it doesn’t seem something that’s wise to ignore.

It’s undeniably challenging to approach that modern reality of an interconnected world with no-where to hide. The past or present, all their good intentions and questionable courses of action, are laid bare for scrutiny from all angles. The world can be a relentless critic, especially given there’s no shared moral code at that level: we often act within our community, but might be judged by quite other standards.

Which I imagine is why modern life can seem this incredible tremor underneath everything everyone held to be true? It’s this re-evaluation of how we’re living. We’ve been acting in ways that impact others emotionally, socially, economically; with consequences often conveniently invisible or justifiable through the single lens of personal or national perspectives. The internet questions that security by asking how we relate to the whole.

How we might build the kind of understanding that can navigate such a world is an intriguing thought (Notes Three). Each society or culture has its narratives, its beliefs about what matters and what’s acceptable within the scope of its reality. Attitudes that might be firmly or loosely held, malleable or vehemently insisted upon. The complexity of a person or society aren’t easy to unravel.

Dealing with that complexity – embracing it, even – and working through all it takes to understand, appreciate, accommodate, and cooperate with one another can seem, at times, overwhelming or compelling.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Strange arrogance of thought
Note 1: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 2: Cutting corners
Note 2: The web and the wider world
Note 3: Ideas around education & responsibility
Note 3: What’s a reasonable response?
Note 3: The philosopher stance

Thoughts around the standards we live by were explored in both Codes of behaviour and What is acceptable?

If beauty’s in the eye of the beholder, then that implies some relationship between what we hold within us and what we’re able to appreciate in the world: that we only truly see that which we’ve come to understand. It’s just an idea, of course; but an interesting one.

That we might each have within us an inner landscape of sorts – formed through our encounters with the world, and from which we then understand ourselves, the world, and our position within it – is something touched on previously (see Notes One). It’s probably a philosophical question: the sense of how meaning, identity and knowledge arise between humans and their environments.

In so many ways we can only recognise that which we’ve been taught to know: to understand and appreciate its value, purpose or meaning within human society. Arguably the process of education is one of familiarising young people with the history, artefacts and priorities of their culture – bringing them to an appreciation of these things and equipping them with the insight and skill to be able to apply that knowledge in new ways.

It’s an interesting practice: that we might be shown things and simultaneously instructed as to their importance. That kind of social conditioning where one generation attempts to impart what’s deemed essential to those who follow. It applies to education, but maybe also to media, culture, belief, and even to economic realities. We pass things on, often loading them up with implied significance and a dose of moralising.

I’m not sure what space there is in that picture for the possibility we might’ve been mistaken about some things. Clearly we can only pass on what we know, and maybe what we know isn’t quite right at times or isn’t working out as we’d hoped. The certainty of any kind of knowledge maybe questionable, but society does need to be grounded on a degree of common understanding.

The question of how we might then move beyond received knowledge to explore what’s unfamiliar or new is also fascinating (Notes Two). That process of familiarising ourselves with what was previously unknown – going into personal uncharted territory and finding means to evaluate what we meet there – seems an interesting one to try and prepare for.

After all, if we mainly value what we know and understand, then presumably there’s a lot in life we may not see for what it truly is. Having a flexible enough sense of identity and worldview so as to be able to confidently encounter the unknown is a fairly challenging educational target, but unless we have that we’re arguably destined for conflict and disagreement (Notes Three).

And, looking from the personal angle, it’s quite a beautiful idea: that to know someone for who they are, the paths they’ve walked and struggles they’re overcoming, is often what it means to truly love a person. That relationship between being able to see something, understand its worth, and appreciate it for what it is seems so essential to the human journey.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 1: What are we thinking?
Note 1: Aesthetic value of nature
Note 2: Krishnamurti’s “Inward Revolution”
Note 2: Convergence and divergence
Note 3: Listening, tolerance & communication
Note 3: The way to be

Continuing on with that thread of ‘human worth’, there’s Worthless, or priceless?

In life, do we think we’re all alike or decide that we’re in some way different? Clearly the circumstances of each person’s birth can be seen to shape their life to a fairly considerable extent but, beyond the ripple effect of that, do we see one another as essentially the same?

There are countless ways we might all seem different: appearance, age, religious or social background, geography, heritage, educational opportunities, and the base notes of personality, interests and experience. Much of that may impact our “chances” in life, the perceived assets or challenges we’re saddled with. The degree to which we can ever be free of conditioning is interesting to contemplate (see Notes One).

That seems so important to get to grips with: the ways we might appear different and the implications such differences have for the lives we lead. It’s fairly undeniable that much is set in motion by early experiences, by the situations we each step into socially, globally and personally. We may well be working through the realities of that for the rest of our lives. So, in a way, there is difference there.

And even when, broadly speaking, that’s less obvious there can still be significant differences in outlook and attitude to life (Note Two). All the ways people encounter others and the ideas of their society, culture and time must create an almost unfathomable richness of diversity, insight and awareness. Surely no two people are even remotely the same, each carrying their own unique way of being.

So, faced with the mobility of modern life and the relentless pace of change within society, it’s understandable we might struggle to appreciate the depth of human experience we’re now exposed to. Rather than the geographically limited communities of the fairly recent past – with their stable, defined relationships and clear systems of belief – we now have this incredibly open world of new experiences (Notes Three).

All that is what it is: we’re now aware of all the ways humanity has developed structures of society, belief and economic activity across the globe; we can see how prioritising our own interests almost unavoidably impacts others, so we have to decide if that’s justifiable. And, of course, all that’s going to be confronting.

It’s not like we’ve got a history of getting along easily with one another, so relating to a world of differing ideas and experiences is potentially as challenging as it is enriching. Understanding others, making room for them, accepting other conclusions about life can be difficult at the best of times (Notes Four), so having these modern conversations about our past, present and future may indeed be daunting.

On paper and in person, we might well focus on noticeable differences – labelling ourselves on that level, as is generally encouraged by modern dialogues of culture or marketing. But surely we “know” on some other level that we’re seeing others as different rather than human, that we could rise above divisions and relate on the basis of our shared humanity?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Krishnamurti’s “Inward Revolution”
Note 1: Complexity of life
Note 2: How it feels to be alive
Note 3: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 3: The web and the wider world
Note 4: Listening, tolerance & communication

Looking further at choices in how we live and ways we relate, there’s Worthless, or priceless? and The human spirit.

In life, there’s always the question of meaning. In little or large ways we can ask what our actions, choices, thoughts or attitudes might mean in relation to others or in a more absolute sense. Circling in this way towards ultimate questions about the reality of human existence and how best to live it – the concern of philosophers, religions, cultures, therapists and, often, of children.

I’ve touched upon this at times here, as it seems so important, but more often than not such essentially contentious and arguably unanswerable questions tend to give way to the more pressing concerns of modern life (see Notes One).

But, even practically speaking, it can be seen that every word, thought, feeling, gesture, assumption causes countless ripples in the world around us; affecting those to whom it’s directed and those who witness it, becoming a message carried into their lives, those around them, and the systems we’re all sustaining through our everyday habits or choices.

Maybe that’s what religion has sought to regulate over the years: how we act within our lives, the ideas we hold most firmly in our minds, and the collective realities that all effectively serves to create. And maybe in the modern day it’s simply true that belief is now a personal matter, freed from the constrictions of social obligation and seeking greater alignment with our knowledge of the material world.

Surely our thoughts and actions do carry meaning though. There’s a truth in everything; whether it’s personal or historical, intentional or possibly somewhat accidental. Ideas have shaped the lives of people through all the ages of humanity, becoming the systems that have guided civilisations for better or for worse.

Within that slightly overwhelming sense of reality as slow thought, where everything holds or once held meaning and intention, what if there is no carpet? No place to hide all those things we’d rather not acknowledge or deal with? What if everything we do finds a home somewhere, just as every discarded item from our lifetime likely still exists – each moment, day, year, decade adding to this reservoir of our choices and impacts?

Is it possible to live long term if we’re so careless of consequences? It’s a question as applicable to the environment as it is to technology: it may seem as if actions have no cost to us, but surely they hit home somewhere creating personal or systemic problems that have to be lived through by others (Notes Two). Can we really do as we please and take no responsibility for the fallout?

Belief might be personal, but that doesn’t mean it’s not powerful and a significant social reality. How we see things – ourselves, our worth, the value of human life, our place in the world, the meaning of all we do – must inevitably influence how we act and the extent we care about those realities (Notes Three). At the end of the day, I tend to think that it matters if it matters. And maybe it all does?

Notes and References:

Note 1: Spirituality since the 80s
Note 1: Spirit as the invisible
Note 1: The human spirit
Note 1: What is real?
Note 1: The philosopher stance
Note 2: Ways of living & those who suffer
Note 2: Empathy in a world that happily destroys
Note 2: Living in luxury, on what grounds?
Note 3: Responsibility in shaping this reality
Note 3: Complexity of life

When it comes to reality, is it really as straightforward as we might think? Our fairly recent wealth of knowledge with regard to the physical world clearly gives a certain grasp of things, but beyond that can we be sure of what matters most?

In saying that, I’m thinking in part of ideas around the nature of thought and the complexities of our natural environment (see Notes One): ways we take our fragmented perceptions as independent truths, not always looking to the interrelated realities lying behind almost anything we might meet in life.

Thought, consciousness, and life experiences are fascinating topics. And those ideas articulated by Bohm – of a complex reality perceived, often only in part, by thought – raise so many questions around our ability to see truly, to get beyond our naturally limited perspective with all its intricacies of personal meaning and identity (Note Two).

In a way, there’s life and then there’s this human overlay of thought: the ideas we spin or have spun about life and how it all works; ideas which, in turn, shape how we live and act (Note Three). Because surely our thoughts – invisible as they are – serve to create reality; in small and large ways, our ideas on life determine how we are.

So, in looking at reality, are the contents of our minds to be considered more or less real? If we are intelligent beings, capable of being guided by thought and understanding what we find around us, then is the thinking behind our words and actions more significant than we might generally realise?

All the ideas we may accept, go along with, or passively hold in mind must serve to inform our decisions. These thoughts or assumptions, even if unexamined or less consciously held, surely have consequences for the relationships we forge, activities we form a part of, and the larger social realities being sustained (Notes Four). Behind all that we do we can look to our beliefs and intentions.

In that, maybe our intentions and our impacts could in fact be seen as quite considerable realities: the meanings nestled behind how we are, and the human or natural implications we may or may not see as being ‘our fault’. After all, are we responsible for our intentions or the consequences of what we do or say?

It’s easy to see actions as more real, but words and ideas seem just as powerful in changing things; maybe even more so given how insidious they are, how hard to eradicate or correct once spoken. Many know that words are capable of altering the course of a life for better or worse. And once committed to an idea, it’s often difficult to convince someone of the error of their ways.

Life can be seen as an interplay of ideas and reality, the things we bring to life and our understanding of what we see. In that picture, what’s more real and where our responsibilities stop seem such pertinent considerations for how we live.

Notes and References:

Note 1: David Bohm, thoughts on life
Note 1: Nature tells a story, about the planet
Note 2: Mirrors we offer one another
Note 3: Writings on Education
Note 4: Does it matter if others suffer?
Note 4: Community – what it was, what we lost
Note 4: Age, politics and human reasoning
Note 4: At what cost, for humans & for nature
Note 4: The web and the wider world

Sometimes people act in ways others find to be inexplicable, inspiring, overwhelming. Moments of self-sacrifice, compassion, grace, strength of character. We seem stunned and taken aback by it: that someone would act selflessly in a way that suggests a deeper sense of humanity and meaning to their actions.

When that happens, it’s often a wonderful beacon of hope – faith in the human spirit to act in ways that transcend the commercial, calculated behaviours we more commonly see.

It’s clearly inspirational to see people rise above the more obvious responses to situations and choose to offer something so different based on their own sense of what’s important, what matters, and what’s worthwhile. We can get so caught up in ‘how things are’ and all the logical, psychological, or social justifications for human behaviour that we forget there’s another way.

And it’s fascinating. There’s so much bad in the world, and most of it can be chalked up to human nature. Yet the human spirit is also capable of something quite different.

I’ve spoken a few times here about hope, human worth and paths we take in life (see Notes One), all of which tie into this. I mean, in the face of life we have choices: we can act based on examples we may have seen, on how we see others acting, on what seems acceptable or might gain us admiration from certain quarters; or we can act on our ideas, our ideals, our understanding, our beliefs.

It’s another fascinating part of life: that we can choose our own path. We can choose to uplift or destroy. We can choose to believe what we want about life, existence, and the importance of our place within it. We can choose despair or release. We can let ourselves be shaped by things, or we can choose to shape them ourselves. In many ways, the paths we walk are down to us (Notes Two).

And, of course, all of that impacts the world around us: our choices, our actions, our attitudes, and the meanings evident behind them become part of the world we’re creating together. Not just for us, but for everything that forms part of our existence.

We may be but a single person, and the logic of the world may say we make little difference. But it does seem that when people act on a different sense of meaning, we generally notice it. Whether that’s someone more widely acknowledged, or the quieter examples we all offer one another in our everyday lives.

Something inexplicable may prompt people to create beautiful gestures of hope, offering them up to others as inspiration and reassurance that there’s more to life. While something else may lead others to destroy those things, just because they can. Human nature and human spirit seem at odds: one often pointing to despair, the other giving cause for hope.

Do I have a point here? Only that it matters, and not to give up hope that we all make a difference.

Notes and References:

Note 1: Hope as a force to lead us onward
Note 1: Intrinsic worth over social identity
Note 1: What makes a good life
Note 2: Spirit as the invisible
Note 2: We may as well laugh
Note 2: Need to stand alone & think for ourselves