GOT GARBAGE?
In a recent survey of the most insane plans for re-engineering the earth to solve the problems of caused by pollution and other potential environmental catastrophes, the editors of Wired Magazine compiled quite a list. Among the most implausible scenarios were a plan to use robotic boats to spray mist into the air to block out the sun by covering the earth with clouds, a vertical farm built into a skyscraper to compensate for increased demands on food production, and giant vacuums that would suck carbon emissions out of the air. But the number one craziest idea according to Wired is to continue doing what we’re doing now – to continue putting short term gain ahead of long term sustainability; to continue dumping industrial waste into the water we drink; to continue driving our gas-guzzling cars until it consumes the very air we breathe.
It is a compelling statement about the global state of affairs when it comes to the environmental issues facing the planet, and the economic realities that propagate them and to which they are inexorably tied. It is also a poignant metaphor for the human condition.
We all have parts of our selves that are self-defeating, aspects of our lives that hold us back from breaking free and really experiencing growth. Like shipwrecked sailors lost at sea, we cling to these false dogmas as if they were the last hope of stability, as if we have no other choice. Like the manufacturers who continue to produce inefficient automobiles, the oil cartel that continues to fuel the addiction, and the consumers who buy into this as an unavoidable reality, in our lives we surrender to realities that – because we have been programmed to think so – are immovable. But, honestly, what makes these monsters so unshakable?
When we consider breaking ranks from the status quo, we are inevitably met with options that seem – at least from our brainwashed perspective – completely outlandish. Buy locally. Drive less. Get an electric car, or a bike. Live every moment with a conscience. Impossible. Outlandish. Crazy. Don’t worry. Everything is fine. So stability replaces the moral imperative, comfort supplants wisdom, and the bottom line takes the place of the quest for meaning.
Instead of taking the leaps at our disposal to make change that, while threatening varying degrees of discomfort, would enable us to attain new heights, we sit back and watch the garbage pile up all around us – and inside of us. Is there anything more insane than knowing there is an issue, and yet to do nothing about it, continuing recklessly on the same course knowing that the problem persists, living in complete denial even when there are alternatives? Yet, at the same time, there is perhaps nothing more common. In our personal lives, as in global affairs, we have to be willing to let go of our comfort to change, we have to accept that insanity may be the answer to all this craziness, we have to acknowledge that by far the worst disease of the soul is to find solace in rubbish because we refuse to let go of its familiarity.
ALIENATION SYNDROME
I wonder if anyone else notices the profound loneliness that seems to pervade, even define, contemporary society. Everyone is so busy making a living and trying to find happiness that no one has time for themselves or their own families, let alone anyone else. A half-hearted, cheerful greeting to a stranger feels like a feat of great self-sacrifice, and good luck finding anyone to listen when you need to talk about your problems. Even the homes and neighborhoods we live in are mass-produced with profit, not people, in mind. There is no room for thought, no space for self-discovery, no time for love.
Loneliness is obviously not a new phenomenon. But what we are witnessing today is vastly different than the periodic feelings of social and existential isolation experienced by our great-grandparents. What we are witnessing today is the product of a thick skin of insensitivity that hinders us from even realizing how alienated we have become.
The solution, as in all matters of the spirit, comes from seeing past the surface symptoms and addressing the core issue. In chapter 32 of Tanya, the Alter Rebbe, Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi, defines love. Essentially, the Alter Rebbe explains that love stems from the soul because in essence all souls are one. My soul and your soul are naturally in love, it’s just that our earthly manifestations, our bodies and our circumstances, get in the way. The more I transcend those physical barriers and access my soul, the more I can love you. And then the Alter Rebbe sums it up with his characteristically sweet directness: Those who make their material selves primary and their spiritual selves secondary cannot have real love and brotherhood between them. Cannot have. The Alter Rebbe is not being poetic here. If I’m steeped in materialism, I cannot love. An astonishing thought.
Have you ever met a child who cannot love? A child has yet to confront the paradoxes of being a living soul in a material world. But through the pain and struggles of our history as a people and our individual lives, we develop insensitivity, a thick skin that supposedly protects us as we attempt to make a living and make a life in world that is often cold and harsh. So instead of working to assert our spirits over this strife, to assert our humanity, we develop this thick skin that blocks out the pain but, consequently, blocks in the soul. And the result is, I cannot love.
The solution to chronic alienation is love. Where do we find love? In the transcendence of the soul over the body. The cure then is to avoid the trap of falling into the materialist’s dream, and instead seek opportunities to discover and nurture the soul. It is a constant struggle and an ongoing odyssey, but one that is guaranteed to yield the sweetest of fruits both personally and collectively, as each day of the journey prompts us to awaken from yesterday’s dream and rediscover our selves, our families, our friends and our world.
Reprinted with permission from Exodus Magazine