Balance/Morality and the Scales of Justice
I may have had an aha! moment
It’s what one puts in their scales that matter. That is why “balance” means different things to different people. BALANCE, if based on the scales of justice, weigh evidence in pursuit of truth. Truth being the key factor. But a scale with two sides (think teeter totter) —can be construed to many different beliefs or ideology. Yes, there it is. As children it was all about the distribution of weight on the teeter totter. Basically by one moving closer to the center or further towards the edge to suspend their side equally in the air —if just for a moment. I loved doing that.
I know not exactly a teeter totter. Lol —! but it was fun and took some push/pull and balance.
The essence of play in pushing up and coming down (hopefully gently) could be managed with the simple movement of bodily energy, but balance required a finesse. A communication of willingness and adjustment. In this scenario it is not about justice or morality. Gender, skin color, religion or income level may never come into play, though extreme weight disparities might prove more challenging. And it might involve a fair amount of trust with your partner-in-play so one doesn’t come crashing to the ground in vengeance.
Balance has its own bell curve. OMG !! —this is so helpful. The concept of average isn’t what I’m getting at here. I took statistics. I know everything can be skewed. Are you following? Me either —not exactly but there was a ping. A moment of clarity then oops! —like waking from a dream remembering the nuance but none of the detail. Or just another day in the life of busy brain. If it matters I’m Gemini rising.
The brevity of my aha! moment took me directly down the path of justice, morality and the way we prioritize what we value in our lives. My mind on relationships and how we might get along easily with a friend or a partner for months, or even years until we run into this hierarchy of moral or social values. The weight of the scales and how we do the math become unavoidable. Even the simple appreciation of beauty is a factor. Maybe the most important. What’s in your scales?
At the tipping point if there is good communication there may be negotiation, compromise, or even an epiphany to bring the scales back into balance. Or the relationship may naturally veer in a different or opposite direction. Or a change of perspective may grow into an everlasting love, or at the least, an understanding of another human being. And isn’t that beautiful and worthy of celebration?
As I was researching and putting my own thoughts together I found a wonderful essay on social justice in a 6-part series written by Brianne Donaldson. I highly recommend the read. It is a turn toward the serious yet highly relevant. I found this exert especially poignant for today’s political climate. By Brianne Donaldson Part 4:
John Rawls (1921-2002) stands as one hinge between divine and human judgment. His move toward philosophy emerged after his experience in WWII and the aftermath of Hiroshima. Whatever utilitarian calculations justified the annihilation of a quarter million Japanese civilians to serve the “greater good,” or whatever lingering ideas of Manifest Destiny stoked the hubris of the A-bomb, the skeletal ruins and mind-numbing suffering of Japan crushed Rawls’ faith and inspired him to develop a new “theory of justice” (Marino 378).
Rawls assumed that: (1) people were rational beings with their own ends (an idea that echoes Kantian deontology’s respect for the dignity of persons and the second formulation of the categorical imperative to treat others as endsii; (2) humans were capable of creating justice-producing principles, and (3) there really are such principles that free and equal people could create to obtain mutual advantage. Rawls rejected utilitarianism as a foundation because it suggested that one could—when it served a “greater good,” however defined—override the dignity and rights of persons. For Rawls, SCT demanded a voluntary release of certain rights in the form of agreed upon principles that could benefit everyone. His theory of justice required one to imagine a hypothetical scenario (the “original position”; Marino 379) in which a group of individuals unaware of their own skills, race, nationality, gender, wealth, and birth status (what he calls the “veil of ignorance”; 379) design principles that will benefit everyone regardless of where they turn up in the social order.
Without a clear transcendent foundation, Rawls suggests that “liberty and opportunity, income and wealth, and the bases of self-respect—are to be distributed equally, unless an unequal distribution of any, or all, of these values is to everyone’s advantage” (392). Productive inequalities might exist so long as they benefit everyone, especially the most vulnerable of a given society.
Rawls saw that existing justice structures permitted the “othering” of an entire country and reduced its bodies and history to agony and dust. Values of self-respect and human dignity allowed Rawls to doggedly affirm every human life, to create concrete principles from that affirmation, to observe how the principles work in the real world, and revise as needed (what he called “reflective equilibrium”; 389). Rawls’ “theory of justice” indeed requires some kind of value claim and then requires its continual re/assessment and enlarged application to the Other—a dignity of life that cannot be overridden for expediency, self-gain, or to benefit a privileged majority, an idea that informs the rise of social justice, to which I’ll turn next.
I am not a studied philosopher but this sounds fair and just to me. What do you think?
I’m petsitting in a place of beauty. There is the essence of earth in everything. From the hollowed out stone containers holding salt and pepper to the peonies in earthen pitchers to the organic curve of the wood that holds up the ceiling. From the bronze aged ladle I use to scoop the kibble to the short handled crocks I refill with water for the pups. Everything is thoughtful. Nuanced. Stories upon stories. Vintage Navajo rugs laid upon the threshold invite old souls to come again, or for those newly acquainted to sit in the wisdom of elders, of the earth, and to drink long from the well of inspiration. For this I am grateful.
I’m contemplating going to Spain for a solo walk in September. Combining the Camino San Salvador from Leon to Oviedo with the Ruta do Mar, an official but lesser traveled Camino along the Galician Coast. I’m generally not a last minute person. I’m more of a planner. I planned custom travel itineraries as a living, for people going to Alaska, but many years ago, when I actually lived in Alaska. That said I do this. I walk.
I declared this my decade for walking. And with a birthday fast approaching I’m moving through it at great speed. I’ve walked several Camino routes. Those with arrows to follow or a blue dot on an app (yes I’ve succumbed). Those with more or less infrastructure for many days and town to town and inn to inn. Up and over mountains and along well traveled paths. Those with churches for the lighting of a candle or sanctuary, and occasional connections with others along the way. The beauty of interlude. Walking as meditation. A bed, bath and glass of wine at the end of the day.
But 2025 has been a gut punch from the get go —right— and though I had been planning a trip I put it on hold for a variety of reasons. Until now.
Oh, that hierarchy thing again. How do you stack your values?
I feared the devaluation of the dollar against the euro. I feared WWIII. I accepted the past opportunities and experiences and thought, it’s okay I can skip this year. Every time I reached out with a plan the planner was too busy. The route too new. The infrastructure unknown. I did my homework. I found luggage transfer. I looked at the calendar. I counted my pennies but still I put it off. I feared the worst. I lost interest. Then I let it go. For months, but now it’s coming together.
It’s true the worst IS happening in America yet I’m still free to go. It’s strange. Actually. I’m concerned. Appalled. Speaking out. The scales off balance.
People keep saying, you’re untethered. You’re free. BUT, I say—what about justice? What about democracy, what if. . .? Sure, I’m single. I don’t own a home. I don’t have children. I don’t have pets of my own. I cobble odd jobs together. I make ends meet. I’m a writer. An artist. A walker. Some say I’m lucky.
Can walking be my path of resistance? My vocation? Is it my opportunity to make a difference? To find the right words, to meet the right person, to devise a plan? — I already know it is a means to the end. Of something. It is my path. The path of choosing life. It is the path of now not later. It is a path of power and joy and challenge. It IS a form of resistance. I’m going with that.
I have two friends fighting for their lives. Both old friends from Alaska. Both adventurers. George is a character. Big parties with big bonfires, Burning Man, river rafting, outgoing, outrageous, a good Catholic, annoying as hell sometimes but a good human. Since I left nearly 17 years ago we’re only in touch on Facebook or via friends of friends. He’s my age (66). And may soon be entering hospice. It’s crazy. He had a shoulder injury that led to an infection he can’t seem to kick. He’s been in a hospital in Seattle for three months or more. He’s optimistic but facing surrender.
At the same time another friend. A dear friend. Also a friend of the above friend has finally been diagnosed. After nearly a year of tests and without any significant answers he went to Mayo. By then he could barely speak or swallow.
He too an adventurer. He walked 600 miles to the North Pole. He and George attempted Everest together. He climbed Denali. He owned a guide service in Alaska. Etc. These are not wimpy people. He married. Has children. I work for his wife on occasion. We live in the same town. Maybe I moved here because he was already here.
I met Bob about the time my life was falling apart, or as I prefer to say, The second time my world cracked open. He picked me up when I didn’t know how to pick myself up—right after I walked off the cliff I needed to walk off of — over 25 years ago. He held space for me everyday. He gave me a job. He picked up the phone. He asked the right questions. He did this until I was able to hold space for myself and I thank him. Thank you friend.
At the moment Bob is at the Mayo Clinic being treated with radiation and chemo. Tongue cancer. It’s malignant but treatable. Still —what a road.
And the man I’ve shared a few great Caminos, the amazing Costa Brava, and a few other adventures over the past three years is currently in remission for CLL (Chronic Lymphocytic Leukemia). After two years in a clinical trial he’s in the blue zone (so to speak). No cure as yet but remission is welcomed. Congratulations.
There is balance in everything. And choice. And a whole lot of unknown. I say get comfortable with the not knowing, trust your intuition and do the thing.
Take the risk. Spend the money. Life is short. Or long, but not guaranteed. All this to say live every moment every day. Take the trip. Tell the people you love you love them. Eat the cake. Dance in your living room. Go to the protest. Make the sign. Take a nap. Be real. Be bold. Be you.
Thanks for being with me on this journey. Especially if you’ve read all the way to the end.❣️Stay tuned. If I go to Spain you can bet I’ll be doing a lot of thinking and reflection. About balance and justice and what this incredibly important and unprecedented time in the history of the United States, and the world, is all about.
Who knows what kind of aha! moment is waiting on the wind. Be well friends. xo/B
Links to ponder:
What is Being Weighed by Brianne Donaldson
Love this…take the risk, spend the money - I’m doing it, too! Thank you for being so brave and sharing with us. 💙
You, and the September walk, evolved into this moment of right. Life is messy, exhilarating at times. Here’s to tossing caution to the winds. Bravo!