When everything turns to shit, it doesn’t matter how powerful you used to be or how good you used to have it. All that matters is how fast you can run, how hard you can fight, and how much pain you can take.
– WOLFEN (2014)
The above is a quote from one of my books. It was a pivotal concept for the story, and for a number of other stories I have written since. It’s also a sentiment that speaks to the human condition. Titles don’t matter. Wealth will ultimately become meaningless. What matters is how hard you’re willing to fight for what is important to you. Because any kind of battle will inherently involve pain. Change demands a sacrifice of something old to birth something new. It is always born of struggle and pain.
We all know this. We have all come to accept that life, generally speaking, is synonymous with struggle and pain. Because that’s what we’ve been taught. Nothing comes free. Nothing is owed to you. You have to fight for every scrap.
That’s never sat well with me.
But then, I’ve always been the weird one out. I’m the one asking, “Why are you only showing me one way to live? What is so great about that one particular path? What is the meaning of working? Who decided what our purpose should be, and how much our labor—our lives—are worth in exchange? And why did we let them?”
These days, I look at the quote above, and I want to posit a different question. Not, “How much can you take?” but, “How much are you willing to take?” Before you say enough. Before you do something about it.
Looking around, it’s clear I’m no longer the weird one out. A lot of people are waking up and starting to ask the same questions. Society once again finds itself on the brink of major change. The kind that has historically ushered in entire eras defined by their own names.
The Golden Age.
The Renaissance.
I wonder what this new era will be called once it comes. And how many of us will live to see it.
As with any other change, new eras are also born of struggle and pain. But on that large of a scale, it translates to war, famine, plague, and death. There is a reason why Christianity had named them as the four horsemen of the Apocalypse: they are the price we pay for a better world. And, throughout history, we have paid it over, and over again.
Because a lesson will continue to be repeated until it is learned.
The Lesson is Love
It sounds so silly and simplistic on the face of it, but there it is. I don’t care if you put it into the context of religious doctrine, spiritual guidance, or just plain common sense, the lesson is and always has been love. The ability to look at your fellow human beings and appreciate them just for existing. Not for what they can contribute, or what they can do for you, or what you can get out of them.
We, as a species, have now reached a point in our evolution and technological advancement where every single human being on the planet can potentially live a life without scarcity. We have the means to take care of the sick, feed the hungry, house the unhoused, and fix every single environmental problem that’s threatening our long-term survival.
But none of those things would generate enough profit to satisfy the shareholders.
We have the knowledge to spread global understanding and acceptance of ourselves and others, with all of our differences. We have everything we need to coexist in harmony.
But that would tank too many industries that make money off our internal and external struggles.
And the more we allow the powers in charge to drive a wedge between us, the less power we have as individuals, and as a society. We have been taking hit, after hit, after hit, and we keep getting up, putting on our uniforms, and reporting back to work, running our lives away on those hamster wheels so the ultra rich can go on a field trip to space.
When does it end?
Short answer: It doesn’t.
It is no longer about how much pain you can take, because those in power have so much, they can keep dishing it out forever. They won’t notice people dying off by the hundreds when there are millions more willing to take their place.
This is the world we now live in. This is the choice before us: Adapt, or die.
Learn to see each other’s humanity, lift each other up so we can stand together and say, “Enough!“… or die.
I don’t need to tell you that your boss won’t notice if you drop dead at your desk. But your family will never forget it. The company you work for will not care about the dreams and passions you sacrificed to put in extra hours at your computer. But your friends will notice your soul wasting away.
The market won’t register a blip if you skip your $7.49 morning coffee. But if enough of us choose to make our own at home this month, maybe next month there will be one less corporate eyesore on the corner.
If money and violence are the only language they choose to understand, then those are the only things the conversation can devolve into.
Your life is precious.
You matter. Your existence in this world has meaning beyond the labor and profit you can churn out. Don’t ever let anyone make you feel like you don’t belong, like you shouldn’t be here, like there is only one thing you are good for. You should be here, and you have to do whatever it is your heart calls you to do. You are here because you are needed. Your presence in this world at this time makes it a better place. You are loved more than you could ever realize, and the smallest action you take, the softest words you speak ripple out with the power of a tsunami.
Do not waste it.
Do not give up your joy, your love, your life for something or someone who only wants to exploit it.
Do not let this age force you to be something you were never meant to be. Deep inside, you know who you are, and who you want to be. You know there is more to life than what they’re trying to sell you. You’re the only one who gets to decide how much is too much.
And it is ultimately your responsibility to do something about it.