What on earth happened to me that could affect such strong and recurring memories over a decade later?
A more appropriate question is what in earth influenced my mind so powerfully?
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We’re born with the need to be together. Surrounding ourselves with people we trust is, among other things, an act of protection, a coagulation of wisdom, an amplifier of ability, and a membership card to the human race.
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I do not doubt that ‘science is real,’ as proclaimed by so many yard signs sticking about urban regions. There is, however, an ache that creeps into my heart when I observe such devout public adherence to the revelations of scientists. If science is the path to credibility, whose science do I believe?
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A property border, however, does not eliminate the opportunity to migrate, nor do the confines prevent us from accessing the freely replenished bounties of nature.
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It was not the settling of new land that enabled Native American tribes to flourish in fecundity; rather, it was the ample rest provided to land abandoned.
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When the situational equation was balanced, the answer became clear: I was the help.
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By specializing farms, we’ve cherry-picked a fragment of an ecological whole and concentrated it, thus removing any benefit of a complete ecosystem. As a result, farmers fail to take advantage of the free resources surrounding them in abundance on their home place, choosing instead to rely on an industry of suppliers. That’s like ignoring a dump truck load of money in the back yard while walking out the front door to ask a banker for a loan. In order to take advantage of nature’s freebies, we must trade spreadsheet efficiency for natural effectiveness.
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The Ballad of John Henry is a folk song about a strong, hardworking “steel drivin’ man” who could swing a hammer better than any other man on the work crew. John is admired as a hero, and, when his legacy is threatened by the introduction of a steam drill, he challenges the job foreman that he can drive more steel than the fancy new machine.
In classic folksy man vs. machine style, the steam drill breaks down and John Henry does indeed win the contest. Listeners are satisfied by the outcome; we all want a reminder that people are significant. The song is not yet over, though:
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Creativity cannot be taught. It must be won, torn out of our minds in desperate moments when proper procedure is exposed as a ghost and abstract ideas become a possibility.
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