by Dave Wilson
In a culture where cash and immediate self-gratification are king,
reflection is not only an unpracticed art, but also one that can yield
uncomfortable insights.
So for this one annual day of introspection, I suggest we contemplate changing the things we know are not right and in the process learn to make at least minor sacrifices for other people, and in particular, other living things. Instead of asking what is the maximum amount of trees you can cut down for your waterview, or how much water you're allowed to use, or how much land we can develop, ask the opposite.
Put aside your desires in order to think about how your behavior affects other people and other living things. Are you adding or detracting from the natural beauty that gives life meaning? In your quest to live well, are you denying the rights of other things to live at all? One man's need for a waterview may be a box turtle's need to just exist.
We need to make sure, too, that we are not kidding ourselves into beliefs that allow us to proceed, unfettered, with our narcissism. How many Hummer drivers have convinced themselves that global warming is just a propagandist movement of a bunch of fossil fuel-hating wackos? Or are there some developers who think God placed man above animals so he could place cookie-cutter subdivisions on their habitat? In general, studying natural science can dissect our behavior, and humble and humiliate us in the process.
On a grander scale, it brings the very nature of our existence into question. Perhaps this is why our culture is so poorly versed in natural science. Knowledge has a way of creating fear and guilt and ultimately denial. We figure if we skip intellectual advancement in the first place, it will save us the detour. Still, self-afflicted ignorance is no excuse for immoral behavior.
This is why for this one day we must muster the strength to ask ourselves the tough questions which reveal just what the things are in life we are thankful for. What in this world has value besides that which benefits us? Is it truth, beauty, life, or liberty? Can we have one without the others and whose life and liberty are we talking about?
Perhaps without a true understanding of nature, our culture cannot adequately answer these questions. Nature created beauty and truth and life in the first place. The liberty is our creation, which we sometimes wear with flamboyant pride, but the question of how far we have extended that liberty to other peoples and other things remains.
Couldn't we be even more thankful this Thanksgiving if our virtues were slightly more virtuous?
