Am I Worth It

I know some of you worry that your life is not a net gain for our world. You worry if your existence is worthwhile in terms of bringing forth goodness and balance. If just being a living human in our modern context is immoral. If the Earth will gain a return on its investment for the air you breathe and the food you eat.

But existence just doesn't work that way.

Life doesn't work that way.

You aren't an investment and can’t be evaluated as such.

You weren't a calculated risk aimed at some form of profit.

You didn’t invent the processes of life that brought you here nor can you edit them.

You certainly didn’t choose what sort of lifeform to be.

Unless you photosynthesize, you're living off of other organisms. You didn't create this system. No one asked you to sign on to this fact. Life exists in myriad forms and its existence is its own justification. There is no "best" way to do it or "ideal model" for the planet. We are temporary. The planet is temporary. What is ideal for one species is less than ideal for another.

This isn't me suggesting we all take our hands off the controls of our lives and shrug. Our choices absolutely have weight. There is balance to be achieved and I think it should be our task to seek it.

I imagine these issues all feel different for humans because of our executive function/agency. We think about patterns and the big picture. We create systems. We impose order. We fall into the trap of thinking of reality as a machine. But weighing the value of our fundamental existence and our life-minutes isn't like finding the most efficient way to load the dishwasher.

There is no perfect version of ourselves or our world to achieve.

I think we should lay our hands lightly on the things we can influence and press gently toward our values. We should do this within the vital constraints of honoring our own limitations, happiness, and mental/physical wellbeing. We shouldn't dash ourselves against our hopes for a better world.

In the scales of my judgement, the quiet, gentle, tender moments deserve as much (or more) attention as our dramatic, strenuous, industrious moments.

Lives are mostly quiet, small, fleeting things and it feels like a mistake to spend them wishing instead that we were huge, enduring, planet-shaping things.

Context.

Acceptance.

Cultivate love for what is and hope for what could be, all while sparing a bit of awe and gratitude for the massive, unknowable, unlikely forces that culminated with your own odd, unique, singular presence on this planet.

Yes, own the small concrete good you can do, but reject the idea that the fate of the world is in your hands. Reject the idea that you need to justify the breaths you inherited from natural systems older than we can imagine.

Understand that not even the fate of this fleeting moment is in your hands. Yet, you should endeavor to love this moment and, by doing so, learn to love yourself.