Our ancestors from 10,000 years ago lived simple lives, but that doesn't mean that they were simple people. They had their dreams and nightmares, their answers to unanswerable questions, and their unrelenting desire to leave their hand prints in this world. They created tools, symbols, languages, communities, and meaning for themselves.
Dodo Creates
Dodo was too focused to wipe the sweat off his brow, carefully hacking away at the rock. This was the best rock Dodo's found in years. Just the right size and just the right hardness. His mother called him over to eat some nuts, legumes, and berries with the rest of the tribe. Dodo was too occupied to recognize that she called him over.
...
Back when Dodo was just an ankle biter, the kids would throw rocks at targets, chase after each other, and have wrestling competitions. One time, the kids thought of a new game where they'd carry each other on their backs and try to push the other kids down. Everyone was excited and linked up with their buddies, but Dodo was left alone. He was frail and weak.
He sat on the side of the river, away from the rest of the kids. The sounds of their laughter and splashes were distant now. Dodo never showed it, but he was upset. He practiced alone all the time to get better at the games the kids played. Still, no one wanted him. He watched the fish swim against the river current and hoped he'd see one that jumped. Suddenly, there was a loud rustle in the fauna across the river. It couldn't have been a rodent, this was too large. He could hear the branches snap as the beast traversed the land. Dodo, sensing the danger, quickly stepped away from the river and hid behind a tree.
The animal's large figure swayed in the shadows, and Dodo realized it was coming closer. It stepped out of the forest and into the river. Dodo's pounding heart skipped a beat once he finally realized what it was. The elders had warned to stay away from these. The brown fur made its way into the river and stood patiently. Dodo's mind told him to run, but he felt compelled to watch. With one eye looking out from behind the tree, he stood silently.
The brown fur was waiting for something, but Dodo didn't know what. The sun had hit the top of the sky when, suddenly, a fish about the size of Dodo, leaped up from the water. The brown fur opened its mouth wide, revealing it's large, sharp teeth. It clamped down on the fish midair and used its deadly claws to keep it there. Blood dripped from the fish. The brown fur moved back into the forest where it came from and shared its catch with two smaller brown furs. Dodo ran back to the village, keeping this experience a secret.
...
Dodo tied his sharp rock to a sturdy stick he found a few weeks ago using a grass rope. He had lost count of how many times he had tried this. In previous attempts, his chosen rock would break on impact, or it would be too brittle to shape, or it would be to sturdy to shape. But this rock, this one was perfect. He set out to the river, walking past the rest of his tribespeople. They no longer made snarky comments on his obsession, they've accepted that this is just what Dodo does.
He stepped into the river and waited patiently with his sharp rock tied to a stick held above his shoulder. He could no longer hear anything except the river. His body prepared itself for one event only.
A splash from a few steps away erupted, and Dodo reacted almost instantly to the glistening fish in the air. He thrust his sharp rock tied to a stick, barely missing. The fish dived back into the water. He remained calm, and prepared himself again. After a few moments, another had jumped, and he missed again. He prepared himself again and missed another. In his frustration, he stabbed his spear into the ground beneath him. He kicked the water and shouted out his anger. He stomped to the edge of the river and sat with his elbows rested on his knees and his face in his hands.
Dodo felt like crying. He looked up to where his sharp rock tied to a stick stood and an immense feeling of failure overcame him. He took a deep breath and calmed himself. He walked back out to get his sharp rock tied to a stick. The water around the spear was red.
He had pierced a fish, clean through. He raised his spear in disbelief. Blood trickled down and the fish struggled to release itself. He stood there staring at the fish, pierced by his spear, the spear that he had created, until the fish no longer moved.
For the first time in years, Dodo felt hungry. He knew what he was going to eat. Dodo made his way out the river and back to the tribe, wearing a smile they haven't seen in years.
We Consume
The more privileged modern human has many hours for leisure throughout their week. Many of us use leisure time to consume. Whether it is consuming food or media, we feed ourselves until we are sick of it. Having an abundance of food around us and being able to dive into a world of endless content makes it very easy to do so. In addition, our lives are often void of creativity. There are some who are blessed with an occupation that they truly love, but many of us submit to monotonous jobs where our work is rigid and uninspired. We work so we can gain leisure time to do the things we truly care about, but then we waste away the leisure time in mindless consumption because work is exhausting. We end up in a cycle that inhibits our creativity.
Sometimes we become aware of this cycle. Our dreams reveal what we could be doing and our nightmares reveal what we are doing. The unanswerable questions somehow become simply answered. The unrelenting desire to leave our hand prints on this world becomes too powerful to ignore. We promise ourselves we will break the cycle, tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes.
We begin to mindlessly consume again. Rapid-fire videos with addicting music and people more beautiful than we've ever seen keep us in a world where the voices urging us toward expression no longer exist. We practice being an observer until we become an observer. We lose our agency, and we lose the ability to lead our own lives. Life becomes a dreadful routine, and we slowly lose ourselves in the routine. The days become all muddled up and there is nothing substantial enough to separate one from the other. Life seems infinitely long, yet passes by so quickly, and there is nothing left to do except crawl your way to the end.
"Time interval is a strange and contradictory matter in the mind. It would be reasonable to suppose that a routine time or an eventless time would seem interminable. It should be so, but is not. It is the dull eventless times that have no duration whatever. A time splashed with interest, wounded with tragedy, crevassed with joy-- that's the time that seems long in the memory. And this is right when you think about it. Eventlessness has no posts to drape duration on. From nothing to nothing is no time at all." - From East of Eden
Through sole consumption, we become reactions to other peoples actions. We taste the ingredients they've chosen for us. We feel what they want us to feel. We do what we are told to do. There is no interest, tragedy, nor joy in that.
So, we must create.
We Create
Sometimes we forget that we don't live through life, but rather that life lives through us. We have the ability to do what we want, and it is okay to want things. While I believe that our lives are heavily deterministic, I also believe that there is free will in creation. Creation gives us a safe space where we get to make choices based on whatever we want. We get to see where those choices lead us to and make many more choices based off our previous ones. Within a single instance of creation, we simulate a life where we exercise our freedom. We'll make some choices we don't like, and some we do. Allow for "mistakes". No matter what, we'll build our self-confidence in making choices. Practice freedom in creation to exercise your freedom in life.
I can choose whatever I want to write here. I can choose whatever media I want to put here.
I don't have to use a certain format. I don't have to cite using MLA format . I can use more spaces than usual and spel thingz inccorectly. It is complete freedom in a life that demands structure (source: me). Some people may like what I write, others may vehemently despise it. It doesn't matter.
In creation, I get to choose the stick. I get to choose the rock. And whenever I am satisfied with it, I can call it a spear and go fishing.
And so can you.
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