Cake as metaphor

 

I've returned to a world I do not recognize. There were several posts meant to describe how serious our global situation is and that without understanding it, we can't make necessary changes.

What's the use or the point?

I'm still dealing with long covsshh. After an appointment, I needed to pick up a few things; the only place in the vicinity an overpriced health food store, but I simply did not have the energy to get to and through the regular kind.

While looking for a few staples I'm starting to ignore the new vegan cold cuts and new choices that aren't. BUT. It was quiet. I could spend time reading labels and fine print. No hassle and bustle. Friendly customers, when I almost collided with another shopping cart, laughter about the right of way. No eye rolling or impatience. A father who was calm, while his little toddler girl was talking to yoghurt, instead of throwing a tantrum. No weirdos in the store. I spent a little extra time there because it was civilized. Normal.

The idea of cake as metaphor happened on my walk home. Imagine that the goal of global interaction is a perfect cake. Nuts and ingredients are perfectly distributed throughout. Every ingredient comes together to create a delicious whole. Every country gets an equal piece at the end, at which one is satiated and satisfied because it hit the spot perfectly.

Obviously, perfection doesn't exist.

How many of us need to be taught to stop eating cake batter as immature children? It requires an adult often an exasperated mother to come up with giving us a little bowl with batter in it. Or watching like hawks so we don't pull the cooling cake off the rack. If the cake is destroyed somehow, we start all over. With the same ingredients or new additions. Sometimes there's a natural disaster; the oven burnt it. Mistakes were made. And yet we continue to bake cakes. If a recipe doesn't work out, we find a new one just to keep baking cakes.

Global diplomacy is the same. Since the late 40s we've tried to get a great cake made. Treaties, tireless diplomacy, accepting lesser ingredients just to end up with a cake. Incremental because some want to eat the whole thing, others want the biggest slice. Some don't even want to contribute baking soda. Others contribute baking powder instead. Then real Vanilla is replaced with the synthetic kind. A neighbor refuses to give you a cup of flour. Someone picks out all the raisins and so on. The recipe keeps changing.

We ended up with a mess. Eventually, I hope, we'll get back to baking.