Moral Compass Questions

Just thinking....

How is it that we develop the moral code that lies at the core of who we are? I look around and am continually amazed at much of the world that does not function with the kind of inner compass I feel so essential to my life. I wonder how I developed the certainty I have about right and wrong and justice. It's been a long time since I was a philosophy minor in college and thinking about such issues, but they continue to fascinate me even more with the enhanced vision of age. I look back on decisions made and obstacles overcome and wonder how I managed to figure out that doing the right thing brought its own inner reward. And I confess to being baffled by evil—especially those who, though greed, guile and inaction, cause such harm to others and truly feel no remorse, no twinges of conscience. No sense of responsibility. How can humans be so different from one another?

The Waking (Theodore Roetke)

I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.
I feel my fate in what I cannot fear.
I learn by going where I have to go.

We think by feeling. What is there to know?
I hear my being dance from ear to ear.
I wake to sleep, and take my waking slow.

I do learn by going where I have to go. All my life, I've felt like I was simply putting one foot in front of the other, making logical choices. In reality I don't think it's that simple. I'm by nature a planner. I spent my earliest years always focused on my future and making decisions aimed at goals I could barely discern. As an adult, I found myself in a difficult transition, slowly learning to focus on the present and to enjoy the moments I was actually living, as I was living them. The path ahead was important but how one moved through the present mattered too. Many times the steps involved a careful tap, tap, tapping of a toe to be sure the ground underneath was stable enough to stand on. Other times, it felt like one step backward for every two steps forward and excruciatingly slow progress.

Sometimes I've been stuck at an obvious crossroads trying to decide which way to turn, how to move forward in a positive, healthy way. With multiple disabled family members and the attendant emotional upheaval that accompanied key turning points, I spent lots of sleepless nights reflecting before acting. I guess I thought everyone did this. During those times, my personal mantra has always been to make decisions in such a way as to be able some time in the future look back without regrets, knowing I did everything I could have done.... to advocate for, to nurture, to stabilize, and to mend those in my care.

I guess what baffles me sometimes is the reaction, when I tell others my story. They act as if what I've done is unusual, somehow laudatory, while to me it just seems what any normal person would do. Why does doing the right thing, caring for others, doing your best, seem so unusual to them? Is my moral compass set to a different “north?” How does that happen? I know I am my parents' child, and that I absorbed my sense of justice and notions of integrity from growing up in their household. But I wonder, for those who reason differently, what did they see and hear that made them so?

What do you think?

Spring in Name Only, Except for the Birds

This is an odd time of year here on the Cape. March and April are spring in name only—mostly. Though our fall weather delights us with its long gradual slump into the cold, the days filled with warmth and color long after the rest of New England has bare tree limbs, the reverse happens in the spring. The trees and ground stay brown and bare for a very long time and though the days lengthen dramatically, it still feels like February lasts forever. Just this week we've had bits of snow, sleet, gale force winds and (surprise!) one day inching into the 50's to tease us. Only the increasing birdsong in the mornings and the fluttering of unusual species overhead as dusk falls remind us that spring is really here. The birds passing through and those arriving from warmer climes for the season, don't seem to care that it's still cold out. They have nests to build, meals to gather, and mates to attract.The birds are everywhere it seems. Two days ago, a huge flock of geese honked loudly on their evening commute over my yard from the golf course greens to Shubael's Pond. Coming into work today smaller dark birds were flying from tree to tree above my head, leaving me once again sorry that I could not identify them by their songs. There were, I think, at least three varieties singing.The two swans who wintered on the Mill Pond have been joined by at least three other couples, although they spend at least half their day with their heads under water eating the weeds that now must be growing again.

I was startled at Dowses Beach parking lot Wednesday by dramatically marked black and white ducks who were cavorting in the waves of the cut as if they were totally oblivious to the rain and cold wind that blew. They probably were. My problem was that the bird book was at home so I couldn't be sure if I was seeing eiders or mergansers (white back and black sides or black back and white sides) ....all I knew was they were so different from the usual mallards seen all year. Today on the other side of the beach I took a picture of a red-breasted merganser and his spouse, but I don't think it's the same bird I saw previously. Probably a cousin. In the parking lot, two herring gulls chomped on the innards of the shell creatures they'd dropped from on high, totally uncaring of any human observation. They rule, and they know it, but with no potato chips to steal, they're rediscovering their natural seafood diet....grab, drop, smash, devour. A timeless routine.The finches are returning to the feeders and one friend has already spotted her first osprey, down in the New Seabury area. Ospreys are a favorite graceful predator; we often can only see them through the web cams at the Natural History Museum or Barnstable High School. The platforms are built in several other locations, but it's harder to catch them in flight. I still vividly remember a chance encounter years ago watching one seemingly huge osprey swooping over the estuary, hunting, and returning with the fish in its claws. Like watching royalty in Mother Nature's realm.

Each season has its charms, if one takes the time to look. My recurring challenge is to make the time, take a step away from the everyday responsibilities, and really look around. And listen too. The new camera helps remind me that there is art everywhere and I need to find it to feed my soul. Today's venture out to South Cape Beach State Park yielded a huge

flock of swans in the marsh, huddling out the the wind, while male and female mallards hunted vegetation in a pool created by the high tide. Tiny birds chirped as we walked, and sometimes emerged from the tall grasses to dip in the air currents swishing around. It was midday so the most interesting visitors were not in sight. Maybe tomorrow a flock of swans in the marsh, huddling out the the wind, while male and female mallards hunted vegetation in a pool created by the high tide. Tiny birds chirped as we walked, and sometimes emerged from the tall grasses to dip in the air currents swishing around. It was midday so the most interesting visitors were not in sight. Maybe tomorrow.