A Better Life is Possible
Are you hoping somebody could show you the way?
People have become overburdened, overwhelmed, and afraid of our world. For good reason, too. We weren’t raised for this modern life.
No, our genetic, social, and physical beings were perfected long ago, by the perfectionistic process of natural selection. Over long spans of time — in ancient times — people who couldn’t quite make it . . . died. And they died before they could bear and raise children. They died young.
Those of us alive today each has a family tradition: a tradition of not dying before bearing and raising children. We are born survivors. So don’t be worrying so much. You are already a survivor.
If you want to find your way to a better life, the course is clear. You can have a happy life, better health. But to get there, you’ll have to get out of your own way. Let your inertia be a thing of the past.
Even a few hundred years ago the average happy person didn’t carry around, or own, any excess possessions. That’s a good word, “possessions.” Because they can possess us more than we possess them. Thoreau saw this when he was living at Walden Pond. He shook his head when he witnessed the progression of an ox-drawn wagon heaped with a family’s possessions. The wagon was full; the family was walking. Not that Thoreau had a problem with the walking part . . .
The thing is, we’ve had beasts of burden for countless years. But sometimes, on a longer odyssey, it’s necessary to eat that beast. So why would a family or group move that pile of furniture and rugs a couple of hundred miles, only to abandon it in the middle of nowhere?
Then there’s the matter of inner peace. Unlike the frantic and complex modern urban lifestyle, the wanderers can find themselves pleasantly tired after a 15-mile leg of a journey, and be inordinately pleasured by just sitting on a log by a trickling brook — looking at the glory of nature all around. And later, so tired, you can’t make yourself go to sleep with the blazing Milky Way keeping you in awe.
Contrast that life with a smartphone life. Your eyes never focus farther away than the length of your arm. What sort of beauty comes out of such an intrusive device?
These are existential questions. Not the “existential threat” sort of question — it’s more a question of what kind of day-to-day existence would sit best with you. To make your life deeper and richer.
Life is absurdly simple. There’s even a formula for it: CH2O + O2 ⇒ CO2 + H2O. Food, which is protein, carbohydrate, or fat is approximately a multiple of CH2O (carbohydrate). The carb plus oxygen gives carbon dioxide and water. You breathe in oxygen made by plants, and breathe out CO2, which feeds the plants! The food you eat also creates water in your body — reduces how much water you need to drink. Ain’t nature a wonder?
But there is another, really just one other thing that’s required for a good life. Sleeping safely. (We won’t count “not get killed,” but yes, when not sleeping, pay attention to your environment — there are dangers and monsters out there.)
Your dream life at night is very important . . . you need to be sleeping safely while your mind sorts out the day’s experiences. Wonderful things, dangerous situations. You wake up with a little more wisdom and hopefully happiness every morning. Maybe you wake up and tell yourself you’re still the same person . . . but you’re not. You’ve grown.
Back to possessions, now that we’re getting a little more comfortable with the idea of a nomadic lifestyle:
What do you really need? A knife. A blanket — wool if you can get it. Let’s see, what else to make life better. A tent? But then you couldn’t see the wandering planets against the Milky Way, trying to distract you from sleeping. And what a great distraction.
How about a compromise? Instead of a tent, treat yourself to a pillow. And bring along wool clothing to sleep in if it rains. Wool keeps you warm when you’re wet. Sort of.
What is the point of all this? Aside from getting all itchy and scratchy and wet?
A better life. It’s not that you are changed, as much as that you’ve returned to the life you once had. It’s not quite as different as it seems. You’re still you. Life’s just a little more raw, more real and pointed.
There’s more freedom than you had in “civilization.” Now your search isn’t for meaning — it’s a search for game. And a search for a warmer or drier climate, because you’re tired of being wet. There’s nobody to say ‘no’ to whatever you want to do.
But walking all alone? No, of course not. This world maybe isn’t teeming and crowded with people, but there are others like you. Your tribe, or other tribes you get along with. Let’s look at that life. You have 28 people (and 6 dogs) in your tribe. Some are relatives; some are just neighbors. These people are the reason you can sleep safely, and somewhat peacefully. The dogs, or crazy Aunt Bessie, go crazy when they think an intruder is coming. You might lose a little sleep, but are less likely to lose your life. That’s the goal, always. Don’t die. Live to bear and raise your children.
In your eternal search for better environments, you are helped by some non-tribal characters. Like the singers. Singers travel around alone, or in small bands. They’re the same as the rock bands you had in civilization. But here you get to enjoy them face-to-face, around the campfire. The price of admission is that you feed them, give them a place to sleep safely, and tell them where you’ve been and what it was like. Because singers are essentially environmentalists. Really, everybody is now, even you.
