Good Will

People people everywhere with traffic, buildings, noise, and joy.

• Platitudes fall as numerous as snowflakes in Siberia this time of year.  Most express some aspect of good will.  Many involve other people.
• We rarely wish good will to the moon, or the inert universe.  Sometimes we meditate on a hopeful balance of all nature and life.  Almost everyone will agree for a while that other people should have decent lives, at least if that is not too much trouble for each of us.  Humans are social enough that it is more likely that we hope even strangers intend well than that we desire them instantly dead.
• We should probably spend more time considering just how fortunate it is that we are a social species.  It allows us to perform miracles.  Those miracles would be far more harmonious with other, grander, ideals if they include everyone, and not just you, me, and our tiny limited little tribe.

I rarely pine for wilderness and ancient times as I stand on a dock warmly dressed in biting wind, grateful that civilization (good will to it) has given me so much.

• Good will _ being free _ is hardly part of economic analysis.  If it were it would be included among the set of non-zero-sum games.  Wishing good will to you and hundreds of others does not diminish our share of the bounty.  It may even add to my own.
• Perhaps caroling “Good Will” is useless.  Perhaps action speaks louder than words.  Perhaps talk is cheap.  Perhaps even thinking about good will is a philosophic scam in a sad world filled with horror and calamity. 
• I believe attitude is an important part of life.  A cheerful outlook may be ignorant, perhaps the pessimistic and cynical reap all the material rewards.  Good will is not material (unless you are an accountant) but it has a value, and can make each of our lives better than living without it.

Some claim hell is other people.  Or no people.  I’ve occasionally felt each way.

• Life is an improbable wonder.  Trillions of cells, insanely complex chemical reactions, improbable conscious means of experiencing the sensory world.  To take all that for granted, in ourselves, in everyone else, is insanity.  To think a diamond or an extra square inch of dirt or even love or honor is worth more than a second of life is the anchor of core criminality.
• Ain’t we the lucky ones?  Good will to us all!

Gift Simple

I rejoice each morning in the delight of electricity.  My wiser sister praises our abundance of clean water.

• At all funerals, it seems, the current anthem is “Amazing Grace,” as it once was “Taps.”  Although the tune is nice, the words are baffling.  Who among listeners really believes they are a “wretch,” once lost.
• If picking one spiritual song from America’s vast storehouse,  I would choose “’Tis a Gift to be Simple.”  That one I can relate to.  Being simple, appreciating life as it is without dreaming of more, accepting fate rather than cursing it for victimizing our hope.  A gift nourished by monks, peasants, and plain old folks throughout the ages.
• Even in our consumer colossus holiday madness, being simple provides a streak of sanity.  Enjoying a flurry of snowflakes, a crescent moon dimmed by high ice particles, noisy geese resting on a frozen pond _ this has always been available in Northern winter, as other joys are freely available elsewhere and elsewhen.
• Not long ago were times even in affluent countries when mercenary gifts were hard to afford, when a season of gifts was truly special because wants throughout the year were often unfulfilled.  Not far away, there are people who still do not enjoy such wealth. 

Colors are magic, I am fortunate not to be blind nor unable to tell red from green.

• Simplicity requires elimination of envy.  Our great gift is consciousness.  If we also possess health there is little more required.  Of course, somebody will always have more of something or other.  Our gift should encompass not wishing to be that person, but to appreciate yourself.
• In this frenetic world, simplicity is difficult.  Electronic needs wrap us, there is always something which must be done.  I am no Luddite _ work and ambition are necessary and good in moderation.  Moderation is hard to come by.
• Who has the time to notice anything?  Even simple meditation _ there is an app for that!  Staring at a rose for a minute or more seems a complete waste.  So much to do, so much to acquire, so much to wish for.

Maybe not too simple _ flash and dazzle have their place in fending off winter darkness.

• Tin Pan Alley, in the thirties Depression, produced numerous tunes of happy poverty _ “The moon belongs to everyone/the best things in life are free”, “the best things in life to you were just loaned,” and so on.  Many folks had to be content with the moon, dreams of cherries, and stale bread with their thin soup.
• Poverty, illness, war, crime _ there are genuine terrible things that happen to many.  But there remain complex simple gifts _ beauty, love, hope, the sheer exhilaration of waking up sane.  As we rush to avoid poverty or to stave off inevitable mortality,  we should occasionally pause and become simple.  Without worry, without envy, without even hope _ simply a free spirit in a complicated and marvelous dance of existence.

Joy and Evil

Festive decorations are part of human heritage, regardless of whether the universe pays attention.

• December is our official season of joy, contradicted by the simultaneous existence of global evil. Religions proclaim spiritual causes,  stoics shrug,  humanists attempt to mitigate its manifestation.  Yet evil remains, but there is much joy.
• Our technology rests on scientific outlook _ science merely studies objects and their interrelations.  There is no moral judgement.  A rock falls to earth, a child dies of viral infection _ infinite causes and effects, each interesting, a few useful.  Security and material abundance have resulted.
• Morality, on the other hand, is not so simple.  It addresses people and consciousness as other than objects.  Ethics cannot easily resolve definitions _ what is meant by “good” or “responsible,” for instance.  Logic quickly becomes useless.  Faith remains intractably divided _ rarely shared exactly between individuals and tribes.  Everything becomes relative _ it is ok to kill an enemy soldier, but not an angry neighbor.
• We should celebrate this season of joy.  Perhaps it is acceptable for a while to gloss over evil.  Temporarily, simply appreciate the gift of being.  Joy.

Early ice on the pond, as the rest of the world begins to boil.

• Humans are intensively social creatures.  Individuals interact well with each other, especially in a non-threatening situation.  Unfortunately, we also easily form tribes composed of those like us.
• I believed a solution would be to incorporate all humans into one tribe.  Sharpest evil appeared when one tribe dehumanized another.  I naively assumed that more education and affluence would incorporate a benign inclusive tribal mythology.
• Evil people _ as judged by what is done rather than what is said _ have decided to shrink tribes to those few who agree with them on all morality.  To gain power they demonize differences and ignore similarities.  Evil concentrates in fanatics , lunatics, and amoral egotists who rejoice in driving us apart.

Brown, dry, dying, short days, frigid nights, true winter yet to come _ bleak and hopeless seems mid-December.

• What can I do, as an individual?  What should I do?  I have no power, and do not ever expect to have any.  To be more honest, I never wanted any.  I am no more certain of my own morality than that of anyone else.  I live life mostly joyfully, and I believe that is no small achievement.
• I try to interject what I consider calming sanity into discussions.  I find that there is basic agreement between individuals I meet on what is good and what is bad.  Only those who switch tribal allegiance into extreme cults lose my sympathy.  My reaction is to treat those folks as lost, and walk away without provocation.  Is that wrong?
• For all that, much evil can and should be corrected over time.  I retain faith that our society can once again overcome the evil voices among us and together form a better world.
• In the meantime, I take joy in every moment, and try to help others do the same.  

Toyland

Holiday displays everywhere, grander and grander lights, bizarre yard sculptures, harmless fun.

• Old people nurture Dickensian memories _ “best of times, worst of times.”  Christmas was special but we never had all the things you guys have.   Toys arrived only once or twice a year, and pitiful things they were, too.  Department stores were extravaganzas, seeing Santa could take all day, and displays didn’t happen until after Thanksgiving.
• Even so, by the 1950’s Christmas was already mostly a secular holiday in the US.  It was, in fact, very much about consumerism.  The nods to religion were _ as today _ pro forma and lip service.   Times were just as hassled and tense, people trying to fit in extra hours were just as grim, and from that standpoint not much has changed.
• Toys were generally a lot different _ nothing electronic, only a few electric (trains, etc.)  Erector sets for boys, tea sets for girls, clothing.  Things that were either useful, or concrete items for play and construction.  Mobility with self-pedaled tiny cars, or a bike when we got older. 
• And then the long wait for next December, with maybe a brief burst of something special on our birthday.

Seniors accumulate their own nostalgic versions of toys over the years, less for show than for memories.

• In spite of thousands of years of counter-examples of monks and saints, capitalist and psychological theorists claim people never have enough.   Generally, they seem to be right, although sometimes fads follow “less is more.”  Christmas has always been excess, but perhaps there are cracks in a constant need to spend.
• Objects are now freely available to just about anyone all year round.  American poverty hardly resembles that of the middle ages or even of industrializing England.  Most folks get what they want, when they want, unless their dreams are impossible illusions.  In the grand scheme of things, the little stuff like food, clothing, shelter, transportation, education and even entertainment are freely available to all.
• So apparently the big gift for millennials has become object-free.  They want experiences.  Travel to exotic places, unusual adventures, nights out of the ordinary.  Money, and presumably lack of satiety, is still involved _ but not with objects that can be wrapped and put under a tree.

Perhaps a bit too self-righteously, we prefer “real traditional” toys for our grandchild.

• What bothers me about children’s toys _ now that I am once again looking for a 2 year old grandson _ is that so many are magic.  By that I do not mean wonderful beyond compare.  I mean that they are mostly black box affairs, electronic or otherwise, that teach nothing about our common world.
• A set of blocks teaches gravity, positioning, hand skills, even aesthetics.  Dolls allow interactive play with real materials.  Other traditional toys were always invitations to think and do and interact with others.  Imagination played a part, but so did interaction with reality.
• Now, virtual incomprehensibility rules.  What to make of boxes that squawk, boxes that talk, buttons that light, screens that display?  Oh, I see that legos are still doing well, and I am just grumpy and behind the times, but I wish there were more ramps to the natural world and less of the gee-whiz and no idea how to fix it if it breaks.
• Already most of us adults are unable to fix most anything.  Maybe that bothers me more than the toys.