Misunderstood Morality

"That’s the least reason not to do something.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that if you aren’t doing something because it’s against the law, that’s the least reason not to do it.”

And that’s where it begins. I am beginning to judge people based on how they react to this statement. I don’t like that about myself but it is true. I expect people to think about it, and if they don’t understand it to ask for clarification. With regards to the above statement about what motivates people to behave in certain ways, I get angry when it’s assumed that the speaker must be immoral, or at the very least, amoral. Because that speaker is and was me. I am not either.

I don’t just blurt this one out at the dinner table to anybody. I never blurt anything out, I am known for that. I sometimes disguise what I say as spontaneous, but I am too guarded for that, and the people that know me, know that about me. I rarely make statements like this one without choosing my words and my audience. I am not given to spontaneous utterances, even when I am drunk. I have never slobbered all over people and professed my undying love and devotion. Slobbered yes, statements with regard to undying devotion…not unless I really meant it and would have said it sober.

There is a moral ladder, perhaps you have heard of it. It’s a theory I didn’t propose, although I wish I was clever enough to have done so. Considering it was written in 1958 perhaps my intellectual prowess is not in question (ahem…) I never had the chance to write it first. Damn Kohlberg.

The person who avoids doing something because it is against the law is either still in the first stage of moral development, or in the fourth. The first being that you behave to avoid punishment, and because you are made to. The fourth being that you obey the law because you bow to authority and want to maintain social order. There are six stages.

“The least reason NOT to do something is strictly because it is against the law.”

Not the most poetic of phrases, cumbersome in fact. Hard to wrap your tongue around. Not a casual remark to be made during a casual conversation.

I am still fuming about the aftermath. I regret saying it because as soon as I did the conversation was over. It was as if I had said that I would have shot the pope myself to put him out of his misery, while downloading the latest Hollywood release on my pirated software with a computer I stole from a ninety year old paraplegic. I never even had a chance.

originally written in 2008, hence the dated reference to the Pope...

DNA of strangers

I hugged a stranger today.

I would say she was a complete and total stranger, as the saying goes, but she wasn't truly.  I would not have hugged her if she was.

We were dropping children off at the same city of Ottawa program.  I had chatted with her briefly about a month ago, under the exact circumstance.  

I am not good at "forced" small talk.  Quite horrible at it in fact.  Chatter while dropping kids off in a completely relaxed environment with someone I could "read" as open for a friendly overture, and possibly in need of one, is not so difficult.  It surprises me, but pleasantly.

Today I met her again.   She was running a bit late and seemed a bit flustered.  

"Hello, how are you?"

"Oh fine, thanks.  I forgot all about the program today.  I remembered 20 minutes ago..."

More talk.  I tell her that I live further away, it is good she is close then.  We both commiserate over the fact that our daughter's hair is unbrushed.  We laugh.

"Actually, my dad died yesterday."  She states, "I am feeling at bit disorganized."  In stoic Asian fashion she is dry eyed and factual about this.  

"I understand.  You can be a mess inside and somehow manage to function."  I state.  "My dad died a number of years ago and I had to keep it together.  I am sorry for your loss.  I remember that feeling of just wanting to keep it all in with the desire to shout, "Hey, my dad just died, cut me some slack."  You will not believe me now.  It will get better."

She looks at me and talks about her family.  He died in India.  "So far away.  he was in the hospital, he just had trouble breathing." She stops talking suddenly.

"Would you like a hug?  I hope it isn't inappropriate that I asked, but I would be pleased to give you one if you need it."

She hugs me; she sobs a bit on my shoulder.  I let go when she does.  

"I am going to my friend's this afternoon.  My husband had to go to work.  He told me he would come home but I don't want to bother him."

"Call him if you need him.  If you need the time to yourself he will understand.  If you call him he will understand, too."

"Yes."

I can tell this is over, she would like to go.

"Would you like to sit for a while, or do you need to get going?"

"Oh, I will go get some things done..."

So, you see she was a stranger, by definition.  Empathy and life made her someone I know.  If only in that moment, we knew each other well.  The world is so big, and so small.  We can trace DNA back in Asia to two groups of people, we can see the strands that connect us, the basic building blocks that tie us to each other are undeniable, no matter what else separates us.  

I hugged a stranger today - but somewhere in that brief interlude between closing and opening of arms had five sisters instead of four.

If your world felt smaller today somewhere around 10:30, I know why.