Ohara Koson: Descending egrets in snow (1925 - 1936)

Five settling herons between snowflakes; snowy reed at the bottom left.

"That's how Descending Into Decency feels to me."

I instinctively think of Decency as holding an elevated position, slightly higher and left of some center line. When I engage in an act of Decency, though, I feel a sensation more like Descending. I reflectively think of myself as Descending into Decency rather than stepping up into it. This descending should not be mistaken as degrading or any of the other coming-down metaphors. Decency feels like immersive activity, effort that seems to cloak and reassure me, as if I were being carried and cared for, even though I know I’m the one caring for myself in those moments. Decency seems inherently innocent. It expresses an inner innocence regardless of a person’s prior experiences. It can even be an antidote to some experiences, a penance, or a form of forgiveness.

Because Decency’s always a choice, it brings certain limitations. It represents the presence of guardrails, which necessarily inhibit some movements. If these guardrails keep the Decent safe, they also delimit space. The Decent have fewer options, even when they seem to take a rare or unusual one. There are always some things they will not do. They maintain boundaries. They appear to hold values, though these might be more defined by what they seem to assiduously believe than what they wholeheartedly hold. Whatever the territory, the Decent are actively choosing rather than merely running on autopilot. They perceive most moments as choice points, places where something of real consequence might be lurking. Now is always their time. This represents their chance to make a real difference.

It does nobody any good when somebody moves through the world with their nose in the air. I always wonder what they’re trying to smell up there. Better to get down with the crowd than try very hard to stick up and out. The most Decent often seems to come out of a sunrise or sunset, from some unanticipated or blinding direction. Decency usually appears to rise from a plain rather than trickle down from somewhere on high. This leads me to consider, counterintuitively, that Decency probably originates from below, a bottom-up phenomenon rather than a top-down one. Decency might always be comprised of the salt of the earth rather than manna from the heavens. It’s bestowed by man, never the Gods. It’s beans, not filet mignon. It almost always seems strangely familiar, like coming home to a place you barely remembered.

In downtown Silver Spring, Maryland, there used to be a dive bar located one storey below grade, accessed by a shadowy stairwell down into the sidewalk. It was a dark basement hovel, though when entering, one felt as if they’d just entered the most exclusive joint in town. The furniture and fixtures were nothing much, well-used and well-suited for their purpose. The regulars each inhabited their table or stool, as did the bartender. There were stories shared between those folks that stretched back generations. The stranger never feels like a stranger for long, for to enter seems an immersive experience, a baptism. The stranger might have entered sensing some secret danger there, but those imaginings quickly dispelled. The stranger notices that he feels a little more like himself there than he did before he entered. Truth told, he feels a little more like himself there than he usually feels at home. He won’t stay long. He has other places to go, though he will long remember the visit and warmly recall the warming sensation.

That’s how Descending Into Decency feels to me.

©2025 by David A. Schmaltz - all rights reserved

Tags: #Decency, #PureSchmaltz