The childhood

 

We are all part of the universe. We are the universe. Therefore whatever we are able to create can be nothing but natural. Saying that our skyscrapers, our cars, our technology or chemicals are against nature has the same exaggeration as saying that an ants colony, a dam created by a beaver or a bee nest are abnormalities, because they wouldn’t appear by themselves without the intentional intervention of their creators.

Undoubtedly that the power of the human’s creations is exponentially bigger and that its impact over its environment is extremely destructive. But maybe if we would change our glasses with pinker ones, we could say that this is a creative force that molds its raw material trying to achieve, if not something beautiful, for sure something worthwhile: an easier life, a life whose path to happiness is smoother than it has ever been before. And as in any creative process, there are many trials and errors. Many ideas that shine in the beginning with the promise of great hopes turn out to be disastrous for other creatures that live their lives by our side. Multiple voices slowly start to grow louder terrified by the frightful awareness of our horrors like the thrills that climb a child’s spine whenever he realizes that he did something wrong.

Our civilization is in its childhood. It observes in a shocking way the transformation of its body, the speed of its growth. It baths in its curiosity of poking around the laws of the universe, unaware of its consequences, not having the patience to wait to discover them because the enthusiasm of playing just overwhelms any treasures that wisdom might shelter.