There Is Nothing Either Good Or Bad, But Thinking Makes It So.

Everything, absolutely everything in the appearance - what many label as reality - is exactly as it should be. There is always balance. For every billow of carbon that is emitted, a tree thrives, soaking up the carbon; for every greedy Western oil-dependent institution, there are dozens of grass-roots movements making sustainable energy viable. For every bored overwhelmed modern individual, with the attention span of a gnat and morals borne of expediency, there are thoughtful, concerned individuals, paring back the technology in their lives and nurturing their relationships with each other and their environment. Also, there are those who thrive on the newly available technologies, and are not overwhelmed by the surfeit of information; what information is needed or wanted is utilised, the rest pragmatically dismissed. For every media-hyped amoral and selfish criminal youth, there are hard-working, engaged, mentally balanced, loved and loving young people. For every sociopath there is a selfless teacher. Each population revealed to be suffering is responded to, with varying degrees of efficiency, by compassionate individuals and institutions, keen to relieve the suffering. For every soul who creates art of genius, channelled, instinctively and without conscious interference making beauty of nothing, there are hopeless hacks eking out what is barely recognisable as language or form. The intense multifariousness of the appearance is beautiful. And paradoxically, in just being, in not claiming, in not taking the appearance too seriously and thus not being imprisoned by the pathos of the human condition, the human condition seems more poignant, exquisite in its insolubility. Compassion is all there is, compassion seems the best label for what cannot be communicated; this, all that seems, is compassion.