Adoption
Medical trips to exotic locations, the more dangerous the better
Mission trips to that orphanage in Mexico or Ecuador
Keeping those missionaries on location, or funding those frequent forays to Japan
Family
Totally other—God? It requires no keeping, and can’t be kept
Giving to one is withholding from another
Echos of a struggling species, eking out an existence hunting and gathering
Numbers so small, even the weak are valuable
Breaking the bones to get at the marrow
No books, not much language, knowledge carried by the old
Death by so many ways, including birthing that baby with too big a head
That big brain that sees the other as more than just an extension of I
An independent being that knows it has being
That brain that recognizes that the other is not just outside but inside
And the inside is outside
Consciousness knowing that it will die, that it's unique in the universe
Not one with the universe, the environment, the pack, or the flock—just one
Giving to one is withholding from another, how do we decide
Some we can help, others just die—never fully formed, sick, hurt, or just old
Do we nurture youth or knowledge, build strength, or just hold our numbers?
Is that annoying elder worth the trouble when they don't even forage
One time when we move they won’t keep up—problem solved
The young an obvious good investment, a future meal ticket if they turn out alright
How do I decide what gifts I give
What sort of an economy should I expect—besides the handwritten thank you card
Do we need more than 6 billion people to preserve our DNA?
Extinction more likely from an excess of neutrons than starvation, or a hard winter
Extinction—nature pruning unsuccessful choices, paths gone wrong, niches no longer big enough
My thing—giving to those that cross my path
Those bold enough to look me in the eye and ask, sometimes silently
Or nudge me with their need
Medical trips to exotic locations, the more dangerous the better
Mission trips to that orphanage in Mexico or Ecuador
Keeping those missionaries on location, or funding those frequent forays to Japan
Family
Totally other—God? It requires no keeping, and can’t be kept
Giving to one is withholding from another
Echos of a struggling species, eking out an existence hunting and gathering
Numbers so small, even the weak are valuable
Breaking the bones to get at the marrow
No books, not much language, knowledge carried by the old
Death by so many ways, including birthing that baby with too big a head
That big brain that sees the other as more than just an extension of I
An independent being that knows it has being
That brain that recognizes that the other is not just outside but inside
And the inside is outside
Consciousness knowing that it will die, that it's unique in the universe
Not one with the universe, the environment, the pack, or the flock—just one
Giving to one is withholding from another, how do we decide
Some we can help, others just die—never fully formed, sick, hurt, or just old
Do we nurture youth or knowledge, build strength, or just hold our numbers?
Is that annoying elder worth the trouble when they don't even forage
One time when we move they won’t keep up—problem solved
The young an obvious good investment, a future meal ticket if they turn out alright
How do I decide what gifts I give
What sort of an economy should I expect—besides the handwritten thank you card
Do we need more than 6 billion people to preserve our DNA?
Extinction more likely from an excess of neutrons than starvation, or a hard winter
Extinction—nature pruning unsuccessful choices, paths gone wrong, niches no longer big enough
My thing—giving to those that cross my path
Those bold enough to look me in the eye and ask, sometimes silently
Or nudge me with their need
The poem/rant seems to be saying something like that the personal face-to-face encounter is really the only way to address the need of the other. If that's the case, the previous part seems like a kind of abstract hopscotch.
ReplyDeleteGiving to one does not have to be withholding from another - it's all a matter of scale and perspective. One person isn't responsible for all others. A steward has to assume that there are other stewards, and sometimes a method or idea becomes more valuable than countable, tangible goods.
The ending of the poem is the insight - isn't the rest a sort of profit and loss statement? The value of the other could well be their uselessness (a Buddhist thought), their inability to be assimilated, their stubborn self-ness. There are all kinds of value, and many levels of valuelessness.
It's not only the need of the other that nudges.
The "my thing" towards the end is a key qualifier. In the past this is what has prompted me to move towards "the other". I have no delusions that this is only way.
ReplyDeleteClearly there are many other reasonable interactions. And I agree this is rarely a zero-sum-game in practice.
If however our propensity towards altruism comes from an evolutionary survival bias, then it probably originated as something that pretty much was a zero-sum-game.
-- Vance