IF

If I could live without consequence, I would walk out to sea. I’d hope my feet are heavy enough to keep me bound to the ocean floor as the water crept closer and closer to the top of my head. If life didn’t have consequences, water would rise rather than sink. It’d rise past my resting wrists, my waist, my chest, my neck, my mouth, my nose, my eyes, and finally my head. The water would take not just me but the whole world and no one would drown or float. We wouldn’t swim. We’d just sit and be still. The whole world burdened by the rising weight of itself on its shoulders, and not breaking. Then we’d stand up and shoot from the floor to the sky and we’d fly, not out of fear or pleasure but necessity. The Earth would be so flooded that even the highest peak of Mount Everest would dwell beneath the water. All that would be left is the blue of sky kissing the blue of the sea. Can you imagine? A people lighter than the air and heavier than water. Without consequence, everyone would be multiplicitous: all things, one thing, and nothing at all. 

When I was a kid, at my Grandma’s house, we had to boil the hot water for our baths. I was the middle son, the 3rd of 5 and the water was always lukewarm by the time it was time for me to get in. The lukewarm water lined with my younger brothers’ filth and murky soap stung as my Grandma poured it over my head. My Imam used to always say that water always traveled to the lowest cracks and crevices of the world and filled them up before going anywhere else. I thought that the water should be for us. Hot water for us. Cold water for us. Or for me at least. I’m not sure if I had felt lower than when I was in the lukewarm tub. The rest of the world had milk, honey, juice and wine. Let us have water! If life didn’t have consequences, we’d have water. 

PROBABLY

Without consequence, we’d probably all become circles. Not even a sphere, but a circle. No depth. Enclosed at both ends. Learning nothing and going nowhere. Do we need consequences to learn? I’m not completely sure. Is learning a consequence? I think so. An endless snake eating its own tail. A life with consequence is an insatiable ouroboros, without reason and without purpose. Life would probably be a lot less stressful if we didn’t have reason or purpose. If life just was, I’d probably be happier as a consequence. You know, that whole “desire is the root of all suffering” idea? But of course, I would not be able to have that either. A life of leisure promises a meaningless death. And perhaps, a life without consequence does not suppose a death at all. It’s worth asking if infinite life begets a life truly worth living.  

The biggest question seems to be when did consequences start and when did they stop? If life didn’t have consequences the seed would probably rot in the soil and never spread its roots and sprout into a sapling and never grow into trees. There would be no fruit to ripen, no flowers to bloom, no air to breathe, and nothing to consume. It seems as though “never” is a constant in a world without consequence. Without consequence, humanity is back at the Garden of Eden, Adam and Eve taking turns digging their teeth into the forbidden fruit and waiting for God to speak to them. But God never does.  Without consequence, life never happens. Adam and Eve gorge themselves on soured apples and face the ramifications of nothing at all. 

MAYBE

Maybe consequences make the world better, even the negative ones. Maybe we need the threat of confronting the fallout from our actions in order to act in ways that enrich each other. Maybe the whole world would be better off if eggs screamed a bloodcurdling, hysterical, nasty, shrilly, scream every time we cracked one open. The type of shriek that made your ear bleed. Y’know?  If everyone were too terror-stricken to crack an egg, maybe humanity would pause more often before murdering, robbing, and raping each other. How many screams would it take to make an omelet? How many times would we be okay with letting our ears bleed before we decide that there was another way? But also, maybe that would not be enough. Maybe we’d stuff our ears with cotton swabs and crack as many eggs as we like. Or maybe some would love the sound and love the bleeding and break so many eggs that we have to swim in a sea of tepid yolk. Maybe the world would lose itself in a cracking frenzy until we can’t hear anything but the screaming eggs, not even our own thoughts. Maybe the screaming would cover the Earth and it would sound like the world is screaming. Maybe the world is screaming. 

🦋

published March 18, 2022