It’s another pair of eyes to see this world, skin experiencing wind for the first time, hands to create and mouths to speak words never before spoken.
We are not entitled to earth – the planet – its soil or land or air or even gravity tethering us to safety. But as long as we have that privilege, the whole point is to take in its beauty.
To have one more human feel awe, wonder, inspiration, connection, the joy of creating and toil of achieving.
I don’t simply mean procreating. I mean being part of a kind who makes this world one where we can have these human experiences. If you have planted a tree, thought up a recipe, written a book, wrote a melody; if you have augmented the world to be one worth experiencing by someone after you.
That is the whole point. The whole point is them, and the them after.
This world stops having a point when, one, there is less awe than disaster to behold, and two, when most prioritise their immediate self over the continuity of the human experience.
No more leaves, trees, oceans, and vast blue skies. No new songs, books, dances, plays created by a human being. That’s when there is no point.
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