I don’t know about you, but I am not inspired to devote my heart, soul and muscles to the task of achieving “an equitable and non-violent world.” I’m sorry, I just can’t get excited about it. I’m not sure what that world would look like, but it sounds dead. It doesn’t sound like the paradise I am after.
Not that there will be violence and wars in my paradise. But describing paradise by listing the broken things it doesn’t have is like describing a beautiful new house by saying that the roof doesn’t leak and the doors aren’t rusted shut. It’s like describing a delicious feast by saying that it won’t make you sick.
I think the key is this: the more I realize that I can’t have heaven on earth, the more peaceful I am. The more I realize that this trip isn’t going to last forever, the more I realize that the comfy seats aren’t worth fighting over. Non-violence isn’t a goal. It’s a side affect of pursuing better things. The more I concern myself with the compass heading and the sails, the less time I spend in the galley worrying about the equal distribution of dessert. And the happier I am for it.
Not that equal distribution of dessert is a bad thing, it’s just that there are bigger things to think about. Dessert is a bonus. It’s not a right. I have done nothing to deserve it. I don’t even deserve to be on the boat. But I am glad I’m here.