About Nature and Human Nature

Post 644:

About a week ago, I made a trip to one of the big cities. You’ve got like three options, so just imagine it was one of those.

            Let’s pretend I’m private for this exercise.

            Behind the wheel, looking out through the windshield, it’s marvelous. The enormity and scope, trying to get your head around every screw turn and drop of sweat that went into erecting those buildings. All the people. The buzzing cars. The genius of it. That humankind is capable of doing something so comprehensively large.

            Trippy stuff. Though—I probably should’ve just been watching the road.

            The feeling that prevailed over all was something like humility, but that makes it sound positive. Really, it was too much. Sort of like adopting the role of a speck of dust in a incomprehensibly large drama.

            This is attributable to my own inadequacies and problems, no doubt, but there is a measure of truth in the feeling. There’s no way to be big enough or carry enough presence in the midst of that. Eh. I’ll get over it by pushing down the feeling. Because I’m healthy about things.

            It’s weird, because the enormity of nature does the opposite to me. If I’m driving toward a majestic mountain range, again I feel dwarfed, but there’s something great about that humbling.

            Almost like nature is smarter than human nature. Even though, technically, human nature is a subsection of nature.

            You know what I’m saying.

            And so I’ll deal with city, and learn from the mountains. One day when I have my cabin in Montana, I’ll probably be whining about isolation.

            Humans… am I right?

            Cheers and see you after.