Who Dad?!

At Home

We live in a two-story dwelling:

her story, my story,

alternate up and down stairs;

through my early risings, her late nights,

finding myriad ways for together and apart.

Devoted partners

for food, fun, talk, and sleep.

Devout monks

in daily solitary pursuits.

She, involved in many more things,

schedules and squeezes

what would be a full day for me

between meals.

The fullness of her

allows my slow hermit chance,

nurtures enough husband

for the satisfaction of both.

From experience I know

one can be too alone,

or too together.

It's a dilemma and a dance:

Separate, yet social

we join, then retreat

forever balancing the mix

according to design

planned and flawed

yet adaptive, responsive,

oddly self-correcting

except

of course

when not.

I get up early to write, to avoid being interrupted, but lately things going wrong around our home requiring immediate attention have become increasingly distracting. Some are issues from shoddy construction. Even though a renowned architect designed it, the builder took short-cuts. There were lawsuits. We didn't investigate deeply enough before purchasing. 

Oh well . . .

When daunted by the seemingly insurmountable, I find that some contemplation on the wonders of the ancient world can remind me to quit wasting time and just get going. Who knows how the Inca accomplished their intricate stonework, how the Egyptians achieved the mathematical perfection of the Great Pyramid, or even how the massive stones of Stonehenge were moved and assembled? Humans have frequently done the impossible with the simplest of tools.

Recently, I watched a reenactment of how the huge heads, Moai, of Easter Island might have been "walked" from their quarry. With an average weight over twelve tons, plus an ornament of a lighter red rock, a Pukao, (still several tons) placed on top some 37 feet from the ground! This is quite hard to imagine.

However, anthropologists and engineers have been studying, experimenting, and debating about possible methods for decades, and I can accept their current explanation, but am still amazed at the ingenuity and determination of such a feat.

Researchers have reenacted what they believe happened, using ropes from all sides with many men pulling and getting these giants rocking slowly forward. Of course, if one fell, game over; that is where it would remain.

As for the Pukao, same principle, but first they'd have to build enormous ramps to reach such heights.

What I still wonder about though is why. Why on earth go through so much trouble? None of it was easy, or necessary. It consumed enormous amounts of time, energy, and materials without the benefits of feeding, housing, or conquering anyone.

Sure, rulers commanded and the people obeyed, but why would such infeasible goals become so important? Was it purely the belief in and fear of the Gods? Was the weather all the evidence needed to prove the existence of powerful forces outside of their control? These were times without light pollution. Imagine the immensity of the night sky then compared to their human smallness. How to be seen? How to get some indifferent God to take notice, to care, to perhaps spare them calamity?

Maybe some vanity slipped in as well from solving such enormous challenges of engineering in gravity. Could they have also been showing off a bit, saying to the Gods, "Look at us, we're worthy of worshipping you."?

There is certainly much we'll never know about what has preceded us, but thinking about the brilliant resourcefulness of the past gives me some hope for overcoming the inconceivable obstacles ahead.

I like to read about these marvels of the ancient world. People, thousands of years ago, who paid attention to the stars, designed structures to align with them, while I, someone considered educated and handy, can struggle with a simple task.

When there were fewer humans, were they somehow more? Their bodies were smaller, their lifespans were shorter, and yet they uncovered great mysteries, constructed lasting monuments. Maybe there is only so much Spirit to go around. And it was more concentrated back then.

But, today, we benefit from the accumulated knowledge and accomplishments of all human history. Our instruments and tools have evolved beyond anything once imagined. Maybe our reliance upon them is what has diminished us.

Meanwhile, on my list today is to figure out what is currently leaking from an upstairs bathroom down into the garage below. Wish me luck.