Fundamental options

I made one of the most important moral decisions I made in my life at age nine in October of 1968. We were living in Fredericton at the time and it was pretty reliable that we'd get the first snow of the year in October. I remember the first snow that year. I was in a place where I could see a lot of sky and I saw the cloud coming towards me and I could smell the snow. And then I saw it, way off in the distance I could see that the cloud had snow in it and that it was falling. I still remember the devout hope that the cloud would not miss me. It didn't and I, like any self-respecting nine year old was happy as I could be.

Is that right? I might be conflating several years' memories. All that stuff happened. Maybe not all on that same day. It may not even have been the first snowfall of the year but perhaps the second, third or maybe it was the first storm that the snow actually lasted.

What I do remember is that after some early snow I expressed my delight and was greeted by grumpiness from adults. More than that, they tried to convince me that I would eventually come to see things their way, that my enthusiasm was a result of childish immaturity. And I made a sacred vow that I would never be like them.

It is better that you should not vow than that you should vow and not fulfill it. (Ecclesiastes 5: 5)

I think I was aware of the fact that I was doing something audacious, potentially sacrilegious, even at the time. If I had not kept the vow, I do not think I would have been judged harshly; I was, after all, only a child. But I did keep it. That decision was my path in the yellow wood and it has made all the difference. And much of that difference has not been good for it has caused me pain and I have caused others pain because of it. I keep my vow, however, for I think it was a good thing to do despite the pain caused. In fact, I keep it knowing with near certainty that I will continue to cause pain for others and myself.

That vow is a vow not because of anything the nine-year-old me might or might not have understood when I made it. I didn't speak aloud or pray it interiorly. What makes it so significant all these years later is that 1) I've remembered it and 2) I've done my best to live it. It's become a vow to strive to have a Romantic existence and anyone close to me who has tried to resist that, who has tried to make me give it up in the name of more prosaic values, has run into a wall. And it will continue to be that way. I choose to live in a world that is enchanted. A world where beauty and goodness can be seen and pursued. A world where morality is important but only as a tool to get us to higher ends; a world where we have duties higher than the requirements of ethics.

There is more to say on this subject and I might even say it.