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I miss the places we haven't been to

Just outside of Lyon is the sleepy little village of Chasselay, home to a friend of mine. His house is on a little knoll overlooking the surrounding landscape which is a patchwork of orchards and farms. After a day of taking in the city sights of Lyon, we would head home for a nice dinner which was always preceded by a walk through the orchards. The cherry blossoms were in bloom then and their sweet scent filled the air. I still can recall a hint of that scent, lingering in my memory, so fleeting and yet so real. The paths in the cherry orchard led to the woods. Each day, we would take turns choosing which path to walk and once we've picked a path, we would keep walking until we reached the end of the woods where there was a little stream. By the stream we would sit and chat, until the sun starts to set.

We are defined by the choices we make. The fact that we choose one path over another or the fact that we choose to stick to a path that we are already on speaks volumes. Our inaction is as loud as our actions. We comfort ourselves by saying that the choices we have made are really forced upon us, by circumstances or bad timing or by an inexplicable surge of emotions. We shrug off the nagging feeling that lingers after by saying that "I can't do anything about it". Often, we confuse "can't" with "won't".

This reasoning that we use to make our decisions is what we loosely term as ethics or morals, the bedrock on which we decide what is right or wrong. Kant said that a moral action is one performed out of a sense of duty rather than out of inclination or feeling or the possibility of some gain for the person performing it. But for Kant's definition to hold true, there must be a an underlying maxim that gives rise to a sense of duty and that this maxim has to be a universal maxim. A Theist would believe that such universal maxims are mandated by the Creator, adding a new dimension to the consequences of not heeding such maxims.

Kantian logic in this sense holds true for major acts such as murder, rape or genocide. Generally, everyone thinks that these acts are morally repulsive. But when it comes to matters closer to our personal sphere the line blurs. Matters of the heart are a classic example of how difficult it can be to make a distinction between what is right or wrong. This problem is further compounded by the fact that we often reduce the "universality" of any moral maxim to just the two persons in a relationship (sometimes three persons), making it a subjective universal maxim. In short, a contradiction.

Perhaps it is upon realisation that we have reasoned the universal maxim into a contradiction that the lines in our personal sphere start to un-blur. A corollary of our decision making process is that we have to live with the consequences of our actions. Being human, we would always want the best outcome. We want our piece of sky and when it is promised to us we are unwilling to pay the price for it. Everything comes at a price and everything has a value. Unfortunately, we only know the value of something by its absence.

There is no shame in faltering or attempting to distort the universality of a maxim. Children do it all the time and I suspect that this ability is hardwired into our human nature. Nevertheless, children eventually grow up and they learn the right from the wrong, albeit in their own time. But this is when they blossom, this is when it is Spring; a new beginning.