Possibility

We, each and every one of us, simultaneously are and are not simply the sum of our parts…

We are limitless potential, capable of things no rational mind could ever conceivably predict, limited only by our ambition and our imagination.

And yet it is, at the end of the day, frequently that very ambition and imagination that fail us, that hold us back, that limit us, that keep us from expressing the potential each and every one of us contains. Our self-doubt, our worry, our fear, each in turn prevents us from taking risks, leading us time and again to safe choices, stopping us ever being more than what we are.

We are capable of so much, but the vast majority of us will convince ourselves that we’re not, and in doing so we’ll prove ourselves right.

In this way we are limitless yet crippled by our limitations, perfect yet profoundly flawed, nothing more than the sum of our parts yet so much more.

Simultaneously tied to the earth and aching to soar.

Until we try.

Until we try and, in trying, can observe all that we’re truly capable of, if we’re just willing to take that leap of faith.

Until we’re willing to trust ourselves enough to let ourselves out of the boxes we’ve constructed for ourselves.

In this way we are, all of us, every one, everywhere, Schrodinger’s humans…

...a Thought Experiment.

...if the isotope decays, the cat dies, if not it lives, and there’s no way to be certain which until the box is opened and the cat observed.

If it’s dead, good.

If not, the box is rigged with explosives, there are snipers on the nearby rooftop and, worst case, I am myself heavily armed.

There’s a 50/50 chance the isotope decays, but I promise you, once observed, the cat’s not making it out alive.

Because there are two lessons to be learned today.

One: something about quantum mechanics.

The other: There’s more than one way to kill Schrodinger’s Cat.

Schrodinger's Pandora

I’ve taken all the evil in existence, every sin and shame and human weakness, put them in a box, and given the box to a Greek girl.

Why have I done this? Because fuck you, that’s why. Don’t you question me, I’m all-knowing, bitch!

If she restrains herself from opening the box, the world will exist in a state of perpetual innocence, with all of humankind living in perfect peace and harmony, one with each other and with nature, never knowing anything but happiness. If she opens it, all the plagues of humanity will be unleashed, and life will be perpetual struggle and suffering, violent, brutish and very, very short. I’ve included hope in the box, but it will prove shallow comfort indeed to the afflicted, and should the box ever be opened, all will be afflicted.

So, did the Greek girl open the box? Or did she restrain her curiosity?

I have absolutely no idea. This happened three thousand years ago, and while I could have checked back and seen how it turned out at any point, I have yet to. As such, since I believe the Greek girl in question was equally likely to choose either of her two options regarding the box, I couldn’t even hazard a guess as to whether it was opened or not.

I’ve got to assume, therefore, that the world is simultaneously brutal and beautiful, inspiring and dispiriting, capable of the heights of nobility and the depths of savagery. A study in contradiction where the best and worst are possible every second of every day. And it will remain so until such time as it’s observed.

One day I’ll go see for myself the result of my little experiment, and on that day one of the two possibilities, good or evil, will actualize by virtue of its having been witnessed.

One day.

But I’m in no hurry…