It isn’t any wonder that, at least in the English/American vernacular, “choice” has become the hipster equivalent of good…really good.  The ability to choose, the luxury of having choices and the very powerful emotional satisfaction of thinking you’ve chosen correctly are among the most basic gifts of humanity.  Certainly, there are those who have fewer options than others, those who squander the opportunities at hand and, sadly, those who cede to power, punditry or persecution.  The lingering conundrum that any two people, two families, two communities or cultures or nations can ponder the same set of criteria and choose virtually opposite paths is a perplexing, illogical mystery.  One would think, (at least this one does), that with love and decency and compassion as the foundation for most lay and parochial ethical catechism, the yin and the yang would not be so classically polar.  What happened?

I choose to believe that I am a randomly insignificant speck, afloat in a sea of countless other randomly insignificant specks, neither better nor worse, yet able to skew my unique energy set toward the true north of my moral compass.  Sure, embracing that philosophy could lead to accepting its meaninglessness or…that my atom-sized contribution to the cerebral cosmic cortex could be the whispered breath that tips the balance away from the dark side.

We have many dire choices ahead of us.  May I suggest turning off the news, ignoring the cacophony of putrefied blather and taking stock of your own morality, looking passionately into the eyes of those you love, your family, your friends, your pets and that potted plant you’ve irrationally nurtured for years…and then…choose wisely.