THE old people had a saying that could empty an argument quicker than a bucket of cold water: “The chickens will always come home to roost.” They never needed a university degree to explain cause and effect. They had gardens, children, neighbours and enough life experience to know that every action eventually sends a postcard back to its author.

These days, however, we have become collectors of effects while pretending the causes arrived by courier from somewhere else. We curse inflation but applaud waste, we mourn corruption while celebrating shortcuts, we lament broken families while applauding every habit that chips away at commitment, then we scratch our heads and ask, “How did this happen?”

The Hermetic Principle of Cause and Effect states, “Every Cause has its Effect; every Effect has its Cause.”

It sounds profound until you realise your grandmother had already said the same thing decades ago. She simply used fewer words and a sterner look. The principle is less about punishment and more about participation. We are forever planting something: a thought, a word, a habit, a kindness, a lie, a discipline, a neglect and so on. Time keeps careful records, even when we do not.

The apostle Paul wrote in the book of Galatians, “Whatever one sows, that will he also reap.” This verse has endured for centuries because it continues to sustain us. Human beings have invented faster aeroplanes, smaller computers and cleverer excuses, yet the law remains stubbornly unchanged.

The legendary Hermes Trismegistus expressed the same truth in a different language, stating that effects are never random. They emerge from causes, whether visible or hidden. We spend far too much energy arguing over consequences while investing very little in understanding their origins, and perhaps that explains modern life. We prescribe medicine for stress while feeding the habits that manufacture it. We demand honesty while rewarding deception whenever it benefits our side, and we expect peace after sowing division. Somewhere along the line, logic is applying for an early retirement.

The Roman emperor Marcus Aurelius observed, “The happiness of your life depends upon the quality of your thoughts.” It is an elegant reminder that invisible causes often become visible destinies. Thoughts become choices, choices become habits and habits draft tomorrow’s biography.

Science, interestingly enough, refuses to quarrel with this principle.

Isaac Newton famously described his Third Law of Motion: for every action there is an equal and opposite reaction. Physics speaks of forces, Hermetic philosophy speaks of causes, and spiritual traditions speak of sowing and reaping. Three different languages, one remarkably similar conversation. Even modern psychology joins the chorus.

Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung remarked, “Until you make the unconscious conscious, it will direct your life, and you will call it fate.” How many times have we blamed fate for patterns we rehearsed ourselves?

Communities operate exactly the same way. Prosperity rarely appears by accident; neither does decline. A nation inherits the accumulated choices of its citizens, its institutions and its leaders. For example, roads crumble after years of neglected maintenance, trust evaporates after repeated dishonesty, and excellence grows where discipline receives daily attention.

Cause and effect never sleeps. It does, however, possess undeniable patience. Imagine planting a mango seed today and returning tomorrow with a lawyer because there are still no mangoes. Simply ridiculous! Yet we perform similar acts every day. We spend years cultivating impatience, envy or indifference, then expect generosity, stability and peace to bloom on schedule.

The scientist Albert Einstein is often credited with saying that insanity is doing the same thing repeatedly while expecting different results. Whether the quotation belongs to him or evolved through popular culture, the wisdom remains difficult to argue with because different harvests require different seeds. It sounds obvious until someone insists on harvesting respect after planting arrogance.

The beauty of Cause and Effect is that it carries hope alongside responsibility. If causes create effects, then new causes can create new futures. Yesterday explains today; it does not imprison tomorrow. So, a single act of forgiveness interrupts generations of bitterness, one honest conversation repairs years of misunderstanding, one disciplined hour each day eventually embarrasses a lifetime of procrastination, and the list goes on. Tiny causes often produce astonishing effects because consistency compounds while spectators remain distracted. Farmers understand this, teachers understand this, parents understand this, and musicians certainly understand this. Nobody applauds the scales; audiences applaud the concert, forgetting the lonely repetitions that made the beauty sound effortless.

The same principle governs character. Character grows in private before it performs in public.

Our age, unfortunately, has developed an unfortunate affection for instant everything. Instant fame, instant wealth, instant opinions and instant outrage. We have microwave expectations and slow-cooker realities. Reality, though, refuses to rush merely because social media has a deadline. This may be one of life’s greatest mercies. Imagine if every careless remark produced an immediate disaster. Parliament would adjourn permanently, family reunions would require emergency services, and election campaigns would last approximately twelve minutes before civilisation surrendered.

Instead, consequences often arrive, giving us enough time to mistake delay for escape. They are wonderfully punctual in the end, however. Perhaps that explains why wisdom repeatedly asks us to examine ourselves before examining everyone else. Blaming another person can be emotionally satisfying, but self-examination is infinitely more productive. Mirrors have achieved more lasting reform than megaphones.

The invitation of the Hermetic sages was never merely to observe universal laws; it was to cooperate with them. They were saying that if you plant generosity, you will harvest goodwill; plant discipline, harvest competence; plant integrity, harvest trust; plant compassion, harvest community. The same applies to the opposite side of the equation: plant resentment and, well, prepare for a crop nobody enjoys harvesting.

The truth is that life continues offering fresh soil every sunrise. Yesterday’s mistakes may explain today’s landscape, yet today’s choices are already designing tomorrow’s horizon. The future is rarely delivered; more often, it is cultivated.

And so, to encourage every reader, here is a poem for perspective. Enjoy.

We Never See the Seed

We plant the thorn, then curse the prick,

As though the thorn just learned the trick;

We throw the stone with all our might,

Then blame the bruise by morning light.

We poison streams with careless hands,

Then mourn the loss of fertile lands;

We choke the root beneath the tree,

Then ask, “Why won’t it shelter me?”

We feed our pride, our spite, our greed,

Then pray for love to bloom with speed;

We scatter tares from shore to shore,

Then beg for wheat, and nothing more.

We mock the truth, embrace the lie,

Then ask the heavens, “Tell us why?”

As if the sky had made the choice

To put such folly in our voice.

Old Cause keeps quiet, calm and still;

Old Effect climbs every hill.

One plants the seed and walks away,

The other comes on harvest day.

So laugh at life, but laugh with care;

The Judge is hiding everywhere.

Each word, each thought, each deed we breed,

Becomes tomorrow’s growing seed.

The lesson isn’t hard to read,

Though few of us will ever heed;

The fruit we hold, the cup we drain,

Is yesterday come back again.

Romella Dasratt