For much of my life I've been fascinated with the natural world. I used to play in the dirt, swordfight with trees, and incinerate bugs with focused solar radiation, as many young boys are inclined to do. Several years ago, I read a book titled So You Want to Be a Wizard. Yes, it was a work of fiction, and I only picked it out of the school's book catalog because the title conjured up images of a slightly more adult-oriented Harry Potter (I am eighteen now, and am not the least bit ashamed to admit that I have devoured each of Rowling's works as soon as they were released). However, this new book, by Diane Duane, shattered many of my expectations about it as soon as I opened the cover. It was indeed a book about magic - wizardry, I correct myself; "Magic is when you wave your hands and stuff happens for no good reason at all" - but it was also a book of science. Duane took the mystical, fantastic appeal of Harry and company, and bound it seamlessly into the real world; she created a mathematical and scientific framework on which magical power could be built and deployed - if the builder was enlightened in this Art. By using complex formulae, sentient books, and an all-encompassing language that all of creation understands, ordinary people could converse with trees, or summon white holes into existence. As an impressionable junior-high-schooler, I was fascinated with these concepts. Very soon I stopped splintering branches off trees, as to not cause them unnecessary pain. When told to cut the grass, I would hesitate, wondering whether grass minded being cut, or if it would resent the harsh regulation. I would debate with myself whether or not these ideas of a wholly intelligent world, and the interconnectedness of all of nature through a form of science, were contrary to the Catholic ideology that has been a part of my life longer than school. To say the least, I had taken Duane's books to heart, in the extreme.
Now, as I look back I cannot help but smile in amusement at my outlandish thoughts. Yet, I understand that this was a pivotal change in my worldview. I began to look at things not as just things, but as individual components in a great Master's plan. Though I was no longer nervous to cut the grass or trim our hedges, I had been engrained with a new respect for the natural world, and the majesty of God's creation. I recognize the complexity of the natural balance of the world. I am cautious to not waste resources; I consistently recycle, reuse aluminum foil, make sure I have used both sides of a sheet of paper, and try to keep my eyes close to the size of my stomach. I would much rather donate an old game or coat rather than simply throw it away, even if it means I must spend time cleaning or repairing it. I spend large amounts of time sorting through old school papers and salvaging the occasional blank sheet in a notebook, or setting one-sided copies aside as test pages. At the end of the last school year, I was one of a handful of students who scoured the hallways after Book Buy-Back Day to scavenge outdated books which students could no longer sell to the school, and found people who took them to donate or sell online. Working with the faculty advisor of our school's paper recycling program, I helped collect and sort the bales of paper which inevitably result from end-of-the-year classroom purification.
I believe that the wealth of resources available to our society is a privilege, not an undeniable right. As those entrusted with the fate of the planet on which we live and depend on for survival, it is our obligation to do our best to show respect and demonstrate wisdom in our choices regarding the world. The debates about whether wasteful human actions have or will gravely affect the future of our world will continue long after you, the reader, have finished this essay. I say that, no matter whether or not these actions have catastrophic consequences, we should be aware of and make attempts to use the world surrounding us in efficient, respectful, and non-wasteful methods; even the smallest contribution to this effort can make a difference. I hope that, once this essay and application has been read, reviewed, pondered, and judged, it will be, in the end, dropped into a file marked "Recycle", rather than thrown into a waste bin to be bagged, collected, compacted, and piled on top of years of waste of an ignorant, individually-oriented society.