Seeds of Time

    “Whatcha doing?”

    “Planting seeds for a future.”

    “Why?”

    “Why What?”

    “Why plant seeds for a future?”

    The questions of my young neighbor caused me to think about the future; his and mine. Three generations ago most people didn’t have a car, refrigeration, electricity, or the majority of the medical advances we enjoy today. The exponential growth in technology, science, agriculture, has allowed us in so many ways to become immune to the changes that are taking place, as we have come to expect the normalcy of change. 

    We no longer have to wish for something because it has already been wished for by someone else, and is in the consumer pipeline and on our shelves, before our wish grows cold. Our struggle with want and need has become a matter of semantics for the most part. We have social safety networks that have anticipated and are prepared to pick us up, before we have even fallen. 

    He asked me not what a future was, but why should I do anything for a future, assuming we are going to experience one. If he had asked what a future was, I don’t know that I could have answered him. I know why it is important to plant seeds figuratively for a future, but for what kind of future? The old metaphor that the more things change the more they stay the same, is more than pragmatic, it is essential if we are to realize that the future and what form it is, depends solely on us.

    We have become lost in our efforts to improve our quality of life. Another term that no longer has meaning, as quality has become subjective in order to facilitate the expanding economies of the world. The words of an industrialist from the late nineteenth century come to mind, “How much money is enough?” His response, “just a little bit more.” The other words that come to mind are from the lyrics of a Beetles song, “money can’t buy me love,” but almost everything else. It is the everything else that causes me concern about the possibility of a future.

    If we were told we would have to do without a few things, let’s say ten things, what would you choose? It is an interesting question, not as interesting as what we expect of a future, but then the two are related. There is a symbiotic relationship between want and need, between the filling of our needs and our future. 

    If I had to give up ten things it would take me sometime to decide what is essential to my quality of life, and how it impacts the future. Not my future, as I will run out of years before the next future appears, but with my young friends future. As the world economies become more dependent upon one another, our needs grow and become aggressively complicated. Transportation is essential, and when weighed against personal freedom and productivity we will be unlikely to give up our personal transportation systems, unless they become unaffordable. The same can be said about everything we believe is essential to our quality of life, which when analyzed, has little to do with quality and more to do with want.

    Three generations ago sacrifice was essential for survival on most social levels. Sharing resources was essential for life to not only continue, but improve. The Second World War demanded sacrifice from all the members of our society and societies around the world, both aggressors and the victims of that aggression. Would we be able to communally sacrifice on a similar scale today? I have my reservations. Our notion of success has incorporated the idealism of consumerism, “just a little bit more.” 

    Satisfaction has been left to the Rolling Stones to find; we have become far more interested in, what is beyond satisfaction. We have become satisfied with the idea, that now is what is important, and the future is a concept we no longer believe in, because it can no longer insure our needs will be met.

    For over fifty years we have been told that our overzealous use of natural resources, primarily energy resources, would produce consequences that we would no longer be able to manage. We dismissed the predictions because they interfered with our needs and wants, our satisfaction quotient. 

    Our sophisticated technology has added to our lack of belief in a future in that the dooms day clock, based on the likelihood we will exterminate ourselves, continues to tick towards Armageddon. We recently have been reminded of the fact that one man, one nation, has the ability to end the world as we know it, and the idealism of a future we failed to envision.

     Given our inability to consider the consequences of our actions, and our unwillingness to consider a sustainable lifestyle and its dependence on our economy, are we destined to reap what we’ve sown?

    What can I say to my young neighbor when he askes about a future, assuming he is speaking of his own, because at that age it is all you are concerned with. You are developing the base for want and need, the vision of your future, even if it is a tomorrow, or perhaps the day after. 

    The psychology behind a future, his, yours, what is left of mine, demands that we consider the things we consider essential if we are to have a future, and what we can survive without.

    I have found myself having to look into his bright hopeful eyes and ask, “what makes you happy?” For happiness is a learned response to want. Happiness does not normally enter the equation when it is married to need. Need, in its most basic form, must distinguish between survival and want. 

    If it is possible to associate want and happiness, is it possible to accept an idealism of happiness that coexists with need?  Education has become dependent upon progress for its validity, and yet we have failed to determine as a society or a species what defines progress.

    No matter what answer I provide for my young friend it will not suffice, because the answer will be subjective on a personal, as well as a collective, level. All I can do is to continue to search for the things I need, and distinguish then from the things I want, and hope my young friend will one day forgive me if I’ve made the wrong decisions.