I Live in a Space Station
It was warm enough to sit on the deck this morning. I drank my tea and listened to the astounding, piercing bird calls.
Being outside is like taking a space walk. I am ready to go back in after a few minutes.
Inside my space station, I have heat and carpet and computers to play with and hot water for tea - the station has everything to take care of me. Out in 'space', the world goes by oblivious to me and my little comforts.
This world is for everybody - birds and foxes and trees. Does that include me? Or, am I a visitor from somewhere else who needs a space station to survive in?
Yet I know that's not the only way to live. Right here, along this same riverbank, people once lived without the benefit of space stations. They lived outside, in the world. They knew things that we don't.
I recently learned about 'Ishi', the 'last stone age American', who managed to survive a massacre of his entire tribe during the gold rush in California and live to tell his story to the modern world. And, it's an amazing story,
What interests me is the skills that Ishi demonstrated to his anthropologist friends. He showed them how to find plants to eat, buildt shelters and carve bows and arrows.
The book can be found on Amazon: Ishi in Two Worlds: A Biography of the last Wild Indian in North America
While I air out my toes on my chilly deck, I understand why I need to live in this space station. Although I know many amazing things, from how to find lettuce in the grocery aisle to how to get this post to appear on the Internet, I don't know how to live outside in the world.