Decades ago, at one of the camping festivals I used to attend back when I was living in Austin, I learned a very happy lesson about self-correcting problems. We were admiring a beautiful fat bumblebee who had flown up underneath one of our tent canopies. Several minutes passed, and we became concerned because Bombus was not finding his or her way back out, but rather, remained focused on the top point of the canopy and seemed to be trying to get out that way, where there was no hole to escape.
Several of us were like, Oh no! Our beloved bee is trapped! Whatever will we do!
Whereupon upon a wiser member of our group pointed out that this was a self-correcting situation. In other words, the bee would fly back out into the open as soon as he or she got tired enough to be forced to to drop down from the closed top point of the canopy and sensed the open air again. And sure enough, in a very short time, that is exactly what happened.
I have carried with me this very wonderful lesson about self-correcting problems. Unfortunately, not all such problems are so short and simple. And some of them have more serious consequences. Still, we have to know when it’s best to let go and let the consequences play out.
One example happened the other day, when, for the umpteenth time, I was inwardly lamenting the industrial human habit of stripping all the vegetation out of drainage canals in a supposed effort to help the flooding situation. From everything I’ve learned, vegetation wicks water and reduces flooding. And denuded sand or soil, besides not absorbing as much water as vegetation, also doesn’t filter out pollutants. And furthermore, the denuded banks will eventually (or quickly) erode and ultimately collapse.
It struck me suddenly, as I was walking past one such canal: Well, this is a self-correcting situation. If the banks of enough denuded canals collapse, various government entities and property stewards will realize we shouldn’t denude canals of vegetation.
(Or — a possibility I’m always open to — I could be wrong. After all, I would rather be wrong about this than be right about terrible consequences.)
But if I’m right, the flooding could be worse this year. A consequence I would hate for my fellow humans to have to endure. And also, I would hate for the dirt and debris carried downstream to even further pollute rivers and oceans, harming all other species as well as us.
But, after talking publicly about the crucial role of vegetation for some years now, through as many channels as I can find, and quoting as many experts as I can find, I realize it’s time to take a seat and just let things play out until such time as I might be able to have a helpful role. And it’s not a spiteful, “I told you so” sort of feeling I’m having. It’s more like a practical compassionate feeling.
And, various consequences give lots of different people a chance to be helpers and heroes. That’s a good thing. It’s nice when we can take turns feeling like we helped solve a problem.
In an even more extreme case, the consequence playing out might be the extinction of human life on earth. But let’s hope we don’t let things come to that.