Meliorism makes life worth living?

 Maybe, say WJ and JJM. Surely, say I. 

And in fact, WJ elsewhere--citing Emerson--is far less equivocal on the subject. 

"Crossing a bare common," says Emerson, "in 
snow puddles, at twilight, under a clouded sky, without having in my
thoughts any occurrence of special good fortune, I have enjoyed a
perfect exhilaration. I am glad to the brink of fear."

Life is always worth living, if one have such responsive sensibilities... 
--On a Certain Blindness in Human Beings

The conclusion of the late John J. McDermott's essay "Why Bother: Is Life Worth Living?", referenced in the Overthink podcast's latest edition:

THE JOURNEY: AMELIORATION AS NECTAR

Some decades ago, an unusual refrain was heard over and over as

part of a political campaign. After a litany of problems and afflic-

tions, Robert Kennedy would say that "we can do better." This is

hardly the stuff of rhetorical flourish, and, yet, the use of the word

'better' is a very important choice, for it replaces all of those halcyon

words; cure, resolution, and those metaphors of comfort, as in to

straighten out things, make everything whole, all on the way to a

great society and a new world order. Unfortunately, these are the

seeds of cynicism, for as I look over the wreckage of the human

historical past, I see no hope for any resolution of anything humanly

important.

This baleful perspective does not, however, obviate other re-

sponses such as healing, fixing en passant, rescuing, and yes, mak-

ing, doing, and having things better. These approaches are actions

on behalf of metaphysical amelioration, which holds that finite crea-

tures will always be up against it and the best that we can do is to do

better.

Yes, I acknowledge that the strategy of amelioration is vacant of

the ferocious energizing that comes with commitment to an absolute

cause, ever justifiable for some, somewhere, in spite of the nefarious

results that most often accompany such political, religious, and so-

cial self-righteousness. A moral version of the maxim of Camus,

cited above, would read, can I believe in helping when, sub specie

aeternitatis, I hold that there is no ultimate resolution. Put differ-

ently, the original meaning of the ancient medical maxim, primum

non nocere, was to do no harm. How and why did the maxim come

to mean, keep the patient alive, at all cost, including the cost of

dignity? What is it about us that cannot abide the sacrament of the

moment as we reach for a solution, an end game, an explanation, a

cure, nay, immortality?

I try as hard as I can to believe that the nectar is in the journey

and not in its final destination. I stand with T.S. Eliot, who warns

that "For us, there is only the trying. The rest is not our business."

Perhaps I can describe my philosophical position as a Stoicism with-

out foundation. Walt Whitman says it for me better than I can say it

for myself. "The press of my foot to the earth springs a hundred

affections, they scorn the best I do to relate them."

For what it is worth, and that, too, is a perilous question, I now

believe, shakily, insecurely and barely, that life is worth living!

JOHN J. MCDERMOTT