Spaced Out

An astrophysicist on TV proclaims that we need to find a new home before the sun expands, broiling us to a crisp, in about 5 billion years.

5 Billion years.

It’s amazing to me that anyone thinks we’ll last that long as a species, never mind resemble the beings that we are now.

Maybe we’ve reached the pinnacle of human evolution, but we are in the age of 3-D printing, not just objects, but limbs, and potentially replacement organs!

We’re in the age of brain study, mapping, and technology.  We know how to interrupt Parkinson’s disease brain patterns, for instance, and are looking toward controlling and perhaps, eradicating, many brain-caused conditions.

Neuro- (and other) scientists – and brain researchers are making new discoveries on an accelerated pace, and as artificial limbs and our electro-chemical processes are paired more and more, humanity will morph into a species that can handle an increasingly toxic environment, or so is the hope.

We might figure out better ways to get energy, use and share resources like clean water, breathable air, and arable land, or we’ll kill each other off with increasingly terrifying weaponry here, and orbiting our world.

New telescope technology hopes to not only see beyond our current limits, but to aid our quest for life-sustaining planets while we seek the answers to cosmic origins.

Meanwhile, back on earth, it’d be nice to find sustainable work, and I look forward to digging into a rich swath of earth, sowing our next garden – which is all the new exploration I can currently handle.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

 

Addendum To Last Night’s Post

Thinking about how tiny we are in the universe, how much we don’t matter is depressing, or revelatory, or both, or neither, but sitting here with a fire going, watching a TV show, looking around at the house I’m in, the land we live on, the trees, the flowers, the garden, and human creativity, it’s also true that we’re a hidden gem in the universe.

We’re sadly gluttons for our own doom so much of the time, but there are other souls doing what they can to remedy the mistakes we make, to help rather than hurt, being compassionate rather than callous, and giving life meaning through creativity, service, and love.

We are like the Whos of Whoville, and maybe there is a Horton to hear us – a larger concerned entity fighting for us, regardless of how insignificant we appear.

As Horton says: “a person’s a person no matter how small”

We matter as a collective.

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horton_Hears_a_Who!
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Horton_Hears_a_Who!

We know how real we are, even if our time here is really quite small.  Dr. Suess, I am not, though I like him a lot. I’ve been through the bracken, I’ve heard the great Kraken.  I’ve been to the place called Hither and Yon, and I’ve seen many things that made me not want to go on.  And on, I did go, though the weather was foul, on I did go through winds that would howl.  I was afraid, yes it’s true, more afraid than most – I hope it doesn’t happen to you.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Abstractly Distracted’s Blog, 2010 – current

 

Police Blotter

What a job dispatchers have, hearing the hate, fear, and sorrow of humanity.  The car accident that killed five, the fire taking all the family’s possessions and leaving them homeless, the petty crimes – committed for various reasons we’re left to ponder.

Murder was attempted just down the street from me – was the child I heard wailing into the night last week part of that scene?  Theft is up as desperation increases.

Lighter incidents of the week are sprinkled throughout the report too: chickens in the road (why were they crossing, we wonder with a chuckle).  A purse was found and turned into the station – no valuables reported missing.  Children’s toys were left in the road, obstructing traffic – but gone by the time officers arrived.

I kind of like that an officer took time to check out something like that.  I wonder how big or many toys there must have been for a report to be called into the station.  Maybe it was simply a neighbor fed up with another neighbor not paying attention – or purposely causing aggravation.

History is replete with comedy and tragedy, with old grudges carried through generations, the original issue forgotten or irrelevant.  Maybe that energy could be better spent, but not to those people.  As I read the week’s blotter, I felt better about my life, and took it as a cautionary tale – knowing that but for the Grace of some Higher Power go I.

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© seekingsearchingmeaning (aka Hermionejh) and Life On Earth’s Blog, 2010 – infinity.