There was no right or wrong when I was little; there were just things I did that would get me M&Ms and things I did that got me spanked. Maybe that's why childhood was so much fun, maybe that's what freedom really felt like – freedom from consciousness and the restrictions it binds you to. There was a point in my life where I didn't know that you couldn't just take candies from the store without paying for them. What was money anyways? Life sheltered from these decisions was probably the best life I'll ever live, and I don't even remember it.
So what does good even mean?
I think a little good is inherent in all people. Good is what brings people together for a common purpose – to live and to thrive and to feel happy. You may argue that a serial killer feels happy when he rapes or kills people, but I think that's a different kind of happiness. That is a kind of happiness that never fills the heart and always leaves you feeling dissatisfied and empty.
Good cannot be explained with words, and yet we all know what it is. The same goes for whatever keeps the universe from tearing itself apart. We may not have answers for everything, but we don't need definitions. Good is good. That's as good as we can do.
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