I sometimes wonder what it would be like to bring a person from the past to our future. What would it be like to experience a future that was inconceivable? But I’m starting to realize that it works both ways. Even though I know (to an extent) how our ancestors lived, I cannot conceive of what it must have been like. I’m constantly barraged with things competing for my attention. Smells, sounds, visuals, stories, theories, etc. Even the lights in my house pump into my optical cells, well beyond what nature intended, screwing up my circadian rhythm. I’m fucking tired, dudes and dudettes. And I find myself stepping back more and more, evaluating wisdom that lays in our past; natural wisdom that we’ve lost touch with. When was the last time my feet touched real ground? Too long, that’s how long.