Friday, March 04, 2005

Maybe they are right

I know its oftentimes easy to look down on the Amish with the same gaze you look at a small child with a toy. Knowing that at once they are experiencing complete joy of a simple experience, but knowing the road ahead is not at all the way they may hope. However for Amish people they dont have to experience the latter part of that. They exist on things in life that we often overlook in our fast paced times, faith in god, brotherhood, and the overwhelming forces of decency and righteousness.
How is it that we as a society have progressed so far, yet at the same time regressed? The Amish understand that, they realize that progression holds us back as a community, as a family, as a person. That as technology rolls forward, and land grows sparse, we are further seperated from each other, the unrealized oxymoron of our time. My call to action is this; take time and notice the things that have become amalgamated into our time. The old windmill standing sentry duty in the field, the barn that our grandfather's used to shelter their livelyhood, the lonely, stately oak in the distance, the last of its brethren to survive. For if we realize these things which we have become accustomed too, and often overlook then we would have our daily intake of peace and serenity.
If we are to truly exist as people, then we must take time to adopt the principles of simiplicity pushed forth by the Amish folk. To once again become reacquainted with those around us, and no longer let them serve as passing ships in the night, saluted with a single wave. We have become disconnected from humanity and from ourselves in the endless march of technology, efficiency, and net worth. The Amish have it right, and its time for us to accept their notion of life, and incorporate their ideas in a modern way into our lives.

Wednesday, March 02, 2005

An old man in a new time

On my daily commute I often times find myself running across an old man, in a old car, wearing an old hat. It isn't a car to be proud of, nor a hat to flaunt to friends, but just the same it is his, and he is proud. The brake lights in his car are homemade, additions he decided to do himself, unsatisfied with the normal lights of the machine. For some strange reason I find this oddly comforting. That he has survived without adapting is a testament to him. Alone hunched over the wheel of life, he continues with each passing day, unaware that his day has long since passed. I've never followed him, nor found out where he comes from, that would ruin the picture, the dream, the novelty, the idea. A modern day castle with soaring arches and gleaming windows might welcome me into his real life, where he hasn't adapted to us, we have adapted to him. I would find him rather sheepishly admitting that he indeed is one of us modern men and not a throw back to an earlier innocent time. I prefer to keep the dream. The dream alive, that at once among us lies a simpler time. An unrushed time set to one schedule, the schedule of he, and of he alone. He an old man, in an old car, wearing an old hat, he comforts me in this modern age.