The Dozen Locker Dilemma Oh boy, is that a mistake! Reality is subject to entropy - which means the easy road leads ever downward unto stagnation and death. Everything good is uphill, and going uphill requires effort. We need to expend energy just to stand still - or we fall apart. It's an absolute physical law. — karl stone
Ain't nothing wrong with falling apart but I want to believe the principle that it is absolutely good to endure as along as possible. The energy used to go uphill causes other things to do downhill.
The unusual perturbation of global weather due to burning stored energy to go up hill will cause some things elsewhere (life) to fall apart (go down hill). China absorbs the pollution of global consumption. The horizon of a local arboretum is contaminated with windmills. Once thriving fertile grounds turn to desert. Mosquitos carrying malaria (the biggest killer of all time) expand their territories. Then we try to adapt, still at cost of future adaptation.
My parents both worked full time jobs. My father was next to non-existent (like his father before him). My brother was a mean bastard who believes himself to be a victim (possibly rightly of being unloved and emotionally abused). He was the most successful of the progeny, who severed relations to his family.
In 6 grade I put on a puppet play about suicide. The hero (Superbunny) tried to save someone who jumped off Niagra falls but was moments too late. My teacher was disgusted, I then became target for a few occasions of class humilation ("this is an example of what not to do"). My friend, who played the hero puppet, was an ostracized kid whose family situation terrified me. He was being supported by his Stepmother (father missing) one got the impression that she'd love to be rid of him. If I was in his place I didn't think I'd be able to cope.
I feel myself to be alone in the universe, sometime amidst people I love. But maybe by a measure of action (of doing) it can be said that I don't love anyone. I can't call my indifference a type of love.
I believe in the power of Metta (love and compassion practice). We could have been anyone. We could have been the placid cow, chewing cud, enraptured in bliss, or the cow seized with existential fear before the gate of an abattoir. Or we could have been stuck in a cattle car headed to a concentration camp, separated from mother and father. Mother might have had to choose whom to leave behind.
We should try to treat people well. Vile nihlistic children, puerile hellions seeking the flame annhiliation, and ornery wearied masters seeking five star accommodations. All will be invited to be. They have been.