Are We Cosmically (in)Significant?
I was recently asked this question, and it has stayed with me. From the context of the conversation, I think it emerged from a sense of uncertainty around our ultimate ability to survive the world's current societal chaos. There seems to be a sense that we are at some type of critical turning point, beyond which life as we know it may change dramatically, or even end completely.
Do we matter? In the scheme of eternity, do our choices actually have an impact? Isn't is possible, I was asked, that "the Petri dish has just gotten too full and maybe it's time for the big die-off?"
I grew up in Southern California during the cold war. When there were nuclear tests in Nevada, I worried about wind speed and direction, trying to project how long we might have to live if things went badly. I was about five to seven or so at the time. We also did duck-and-cover drills in school as safety training in case of nuclear attack. Somewhere along the way, I'd seen pictures of the carnage and devastation in Japan following our actions during WWII, and it didn't seem to me that the inch-thick square of lacquered plywood I crouched beneath would really do much good, even with the added protection of numerous wads of discarded chewing gum left by previous students. Did it really matter whether I learned the difference between their, there, and they're?
Somewhere around that same time frame, I learned that if the sun were to explode, it would take about ten minutes for us to know it had happened. And then, of course, we'd all die. So quite regularly, I'd think, "here we all are, we could be ten minutes away from dying, and we don't even know it. We're all acting like everything is normal, and the sun could be exploding right now!" Did it really matter whether I was nice to my baby sister when we could all be dead by dinnertime anyway?
Despite the fact that (in my head) one of the top items on my internal to-do list was monitoring the countdown-to-doom clock, I actually had a very loving and nurturing family, and I have a lot of beautiful memories: making art and doing Mr. Wizard's science experiments with my mom, going to the beach, reading pretty much the whole contents of the Huntington Beach Junior Library, and so much more. I was a loved child in a loving family. And I was pretty constantly aware and fearful of the fact that death could come at any moment, and that everyone around me seemed completely clueless.
So, with close to 60 years of actively contemplating our cosmic significance, my answer is yes, we ARE significant and what we do DOES matter. Even if we all die eight minutes and twenty seconds from now, which is what UC Santa Barbara's website tells me is the actual time it would take us to discover that the sun had exploded. (It also says we shouldn't worry about that, because our sun isn't the type of star which would actually explode, but you know... old habits and all that...)
From our human perspective, I don't think we necessarily know why we matter, but I don't believe this is a random universe, and the fact that we are here must reflect some type of purpose. From our human perspective, I don't think we can necessarily differentiate what is ultimately important from what is not important, so it is a good idea to assume that each choice we make matters. I don't know if we'll soon be living a real-live version of Hollywood's Mad Max landscape or whether we'll navigate our current challenges into an Edenic state of wind- and solar-powered beauty and bliss. I pray that one day (soon!) we'll see the futility of drawing artificial lines around the globe and labeling the enclosures OURS and THEIRS.
From all the evidence I've seen or read, I also believe that everything in the world of form had a beginning and will one day have an end, and since humans have form, that would include you and me and everyone we know. US and THEM share a common uncertain destiny. But I don't believe that having an ultimate unknown destiny means we don't matter, or that our choices are not important. On the contrary, I think each choice made by each one of us is actually creating whatever "the next thing" will be. I don't think our only-human brains can fully or accurately comprehend the role we play in the cosmos. Our current incarnations are probably rather insignificant, cosmically speaking. But we are not only-human forms. We are the energy that Life is. We are not separate. We are, I believe, activity in the Mind of the Cosmos, creating. I don't know what we are creating, but whatever is being birthed will be the result of all our choices, just as the human person I am is the result of the choices of generation upon generation of my ancestors, and what we are collectively is the result of the seemingly infinite choices made by the millions and billions of humans before us.
Are we cosmically significant? Does it matter what we do? I believe we are and it does. And since we can't really answer the mechanics of how and why, it seems the best choice is to assume EVERY choice is important, and to choose from love. Choose from peace. Choose from willingness. Choose wisely. If it seems important to learn how to grow your own vegetables, do that. If it seems important to tell someone you appreciate them, do that. If it seems important to turn off FaceBook, do that. If it seems important to paint, or study physics, or share a meal with someone you love even if you don't seem to have very much to talk about, do that.
Behave as though who you are and what you do is vitally, critically necessary to the well-being of everyone and everything in the entire universe. If I'm right about all this, we'll all be better off. And if I'm completely wrong, we'll still all be better off. It's the only truly win-win choice my human brain can imagine.
"Sometimes I come up here at night, even when I'm not fixing the clocks, just to look at the city. I like to imagine that the world is one big machine. You know, machines never have any extra parts. They have the exact number and types of parts they need. So I figure if the entire world is a big machine, I have to be here for some reason. And that means you have to be here for some reason, too." The Invention of Hugo Cabret, by Brian Selznick
In peace, in Light, in Love--