Thursday October 27, 2004 – The Rhythm of Life

Thursday October 27, 2004 – The Rhythm of Life

Everyday, the human population all over the world wakes up each morning at roughly the same time—somewhere between 6:00 AM and 8:00 AM and they perform a morning toilet ritual—the less said the better. But imagine that at dawn everyday, the water supply to a city suddenly experiences its greatest demand as toilets are flushed, faucets turned on over sinks, and showers spray water or tub fulls of morning baths are drawn. All these people in first-world countries performing the same chores at the same time as their neighbors. And the process is continuous.

As the earth rotates, the sun hurries toward Asia and the start of a new day at the International Dateline in the Pacific. Japan, Korea, China and others all start to stir in bed and to stretch in an effort to climb out of the restful sleep that has carried them through the night. All of these awakening people begin to stir and to bring life to a city, suburb, or rural community as the Sun chases the last remnants of dark further into the distance. The millions of people drawing on the water supply to a region also flip switches and turn on appliances drawing suddenly and heavily on the regions electrical grid as generators labor to keep up with demand.

As the day moves on, the quiescent land outside the buildings housing these countless numbers of awakening people likewise sees a surge in activity. The weight of innumerable feet impacting concrete and macadam, Tons of metal bodies pressing on millions of rubber tires filling streets that hours before had so little activity as to be eerie. The quiet that had accompanied the night likewise has been noisily driven away with the cacophony of sounds emanating from throngs of people and machines, no single sound distinguishable from the general level of noise except the shrill of horns and sirens.

Once this region has been set in motion, the sun carries on illuminating another region and loosing the same level of bedlam. The process continues until the Sun reaches the Western edge of Europe and the fever pitch of activity in the Far East begins to slow, the collective humanity becoming tired and eager for escape from the mad rush that has driven them throughout the day. All the while the Europeans are now racing madly toward their collective goals many of which are intricately linked with those of Asia. It’s like a remarkable relay race with one region handing off to the next. Electronic transactions moving East to West, the trading of goods and services, money like the electricity and water flowing to facilitate the completion of enormous sums of commerce from a multi-million-barrel oil purchase in Dubai to a Visa card charge for running shoes at Marks & Spencer on Oxford Street in London.

By the time Sol has reached the American continent, the Far Easterners are deep in slumber while the Americans begin to make their demands on the resources of the planet. Water, fuel, human energy and all being drawn upon, but by what? What indeed but civilization itself. Civilization is a machine built of wood, concrete, steel, and every building material mankind’s ingenuity can produce. And this machine is powered by human creativity though it runs on fossil fuels and every available energy source—atomic, solar, wind, and rushing water. Each day that human creativity is consumed—solving problems, overcoming obstacles, finding new activities for human endeavor: think personal computer and World Wide Web.

But creativity is a renewable resource. Each new generation brings forth a new pool of intelligence to carry on the inventive process. And the earth keeps turning as it chases the sun around the universe. I’m reminded of Sisyphus, the Greek who so loved the earth that the Gods punished him with the task of rolling a huge rock to the top of a hill and to watch it roll down whereupon he would repeat the chore for eternity, like the endless cycle of life.