23 June 2015

Watching footage of desperate migrants from the illegal camps near the Eurotunnel in Calais trying to board lorries, reading the report from a commander of an Irish navy vessel on their latest rescue efforts in the Mediterranean Sea, listening to one of my colleagues arguing that basically they are all scum, only looking for free welfare. I want to hang my head and cry. Seriously.

Listen, I want to shout, we are all descendants of one tribe, one family. This planet is our home, not yours alone. But of course, it's more complicated than that. Obviously. It must be. Once again, I am too naïve to get the point.
That's home. That's us. On it everyone you love, everyone you know, everyone you ever heard of, every human being who ever was, lived out their lives. The aggregate of our joy and suffering, thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines, every hunter and forager, every hero and coward, every creator and destroyer of civilization, every king and peasant, every young couple in love, every mother and father, hopeful child, inventor and explorer, every teacher of morals, every corrupt politician, every "superstar," every "supreme leader," every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there--on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena. Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors so that, in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters of a fraction of a dot. Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner, how frequent their misunderstandings, how eager they are to kill one another, how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance, the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe, are challenged by this point of pale light. Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark. In our obscurity, in all this vastness, there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.

Carl Sagan


Anonymous said...

Thank you for posting this piece of brilliant sanity in an otherwise dark and deeply distressing world. I do not understand our species, or I do and I don't like what I see. Why is an overview like this by Carl Sagan, and an underlying compassion for all, not in the heartbeat heartbeat heartbeat of everyone?

Colette said...

As usual, your writing moves me to respond: lovely. Thanks.

Welshcakes Limoncello said...

A great post, Sabine and beautifully written. Thank you.