In their 1991 book, The Edge of Adventure, Keith Miller and Bruce Larson recount a story about a traveller who is venturing across a desert when he runs out of water under a searing hot sun. The traveller is near death. Then he comes across a pump above a well that is buried deep in the sand. Next to the pump is a large white rock with a note attached to it. The note says, “Under the rock I buried a bottle of water, out of the sun and cork end up. There’s enough water in it to prime the pump, but not if you drink any of it first. Pour about one-quarter of the water into the shaft. Let it soak to wet the leather. That will prime the pump. Then pour in the rest very fast and pump like crazy. You’ll get water. The well has never run dry. Have faith. When you get watered up, fill the bottle and put it back just like you found it for the next person.” The traveller pauses to consider his options. He will surely die if he doesn’t drink the water. Can he rely on the priming exercise? His life is in jeopardy if it doesn’t work. But to drink the bottle’s contents and guarantee his life will ruin the chance of saving the lives of future travellers. The purpose of the story is to leave the reader with the question: What would you do? Would you save your own life and put at risk the future of those who come after you, or would you act in faith and risk your life for the sake of those who follow?
That’s the question I now pose for readers who are reflecting, as I am, on the choices I have made in life (some pretty terrible, some very good) and will continue to make. Let me reflect on that question. Yes, I have lived a privileged life. Indeed, I received, thanks to generous governments and tertiary institutions, a largely free education. Given that the segments of society who are regularly under the gaze of lawyers are usually the most vulnerable and disadvantaged, I have an obligation to society to convert the insights gained from my education and position of privilege into remediation and restoration wherever possible. I need to lay a strong path for those who follow. I must strive to act to make the world a little better for my having been, temporarily, on this magnificent but increasingly fragile planet.
Recently I heard the musician Tim Minchin comment on what he might want written on his gravestone. He suggested: “Who’s the world going to revolve around now?” That got me thinking about what I might eventually want written on mine. I was helped by a comment from a long-time football buddy when he called into our house while I was out. “Your husband was a good footballer in his day,” he told my wife Debra, “but he could have worked a little more on his disposal.” That’s a fair comment and I’m happy to accept it.
For my epitaph I was thinking of using, “He could have worked a little more on his disposal,” but I’ve decided instead upon, “He would have chosen to prime the pump.”
Rick Sarre
Adelaide