The Parable of the Complacent Lighthouse Keeper
Understand Physical Realities
Accept and Adapt
Live within Gaia
There once was a lighthouse keeper stationed on a rocky coastline where storms were frequent, and the waters treacherous. His duty was simple but vital: keep the lamp burning so that ships could find their way safety to shore.
For many years he was diligent. Each evening he climbed the tower, trimmed the wick, and ensured that there was sufficient oil in the lamp. And each morning he looked out and saw that there had been no ship wrecks.
Over time doubt crept into his mind. Had there every been real danger? After all, no ship had crashed for many, many years. Perhaps the captains knew the route to safety well enough; perhaps the storms were not all that fierce.
One evening he let the light burn a little lower, reasoning that it would save oil. The next week he skipped an evening altogether. The sky was clear, the waters calm and no disaster occurred. Over time, he neglected his duties more and more. The light flickered out on some nights, but the ships passed safely by.
Then, one stormy night, a ship came too close to the shore. The crew looked desperately for the guiding beam, but there was none. The vessel struck the rocks and sank.
The lighthouse keeper was horrified. He had not meant for disaster to happen. He had simply believed that, since nothing had gone wrong before, nothing ever would.
