Cosmic Perspective On Civilization
Egisto Chancellor
There is a small lake on the edge of the Boundary Waters Canoe Area that I have visited numerous times. Its shores are lined with pine, cedar, and spruce and remain almost entirely undeveloped save for a collection of several unassuming cabins grouped near its more accessible end. Set well back from the water, each cabin has a narrow trail that meanders down to its own little dock barely the length of a canoe. A mere couple of miles from the border with Canada, the region is unique in its offer of a glaciated landscape of endless lakes, fecund wildlife, and famously dark night skies. It is a special place to my family, a sacred place where I have found myself in possession of a far broader perspective than readily afforded by daily life in the city. Every summer, we make it a point to travel north for a week to paddle, hike, and most importantly relax. More often than not, this involves spending time on one of those little docks to simply gaze at the wonder around, immersing ourselves in the sights, sounds, and scents of the natural world.
On late moonless nights, the sky above the lake so far north has the potential to display the indescribable. As the waning twilight settles from civic to nautical to astronomical, the stars become so numerous as to obfuscate the easy recognition of familiar constellations. The Milky Way becomes so bright and variegated in detail that it becomes apparent why the ancient Greeks gave it that name. The ambient temperature has cooled to the point of requiring long sleeves even though it might be the height of summer, and the lake is so calm that its surface reflects countless points of starlight. Indeed, there have been nights so deeply dark that I have seen my own shadow cast on the dock by the starlight from above. I look up to the sky and notice how my perspective begins to shift away from daily concerns toward a quiet contentment.
Words are inadequate to express the sense that has often come over me standing out there under the raiment of the Cosmos. In the moment, my sense of self diminishes and my perception expands across a conceptual continuum of space so broad that for a moment time seems to stop. Looking overhead at the innumerable stars, an awareness dawns on me that the vast majority of those stars are likely to host planets of their own. On some of those planets must be life, potentially sentient life. This begs of the question of whether we as a species might think bigger. How many shores are to be found similar yet different than the one upon which I stand and gaze? How many opportunities for expanding our understanding of the Cosmos and our place within it remain to be encountered in that night sky? Whom is there to meet on those other shores hanging overhead in the night sky possibly looking down at us?
In 1977, the Voyager 1 and 2 spacecraft were launched in order to expand our knowledge of the Solar System and continue outward to interstellar space. Cognizant of this plan, then president Jimmy Carter wrote a statement carried by these twin emissaries on behalf of our species:
This is a present from a small distant world, a token of our sounds, our science, our images, our music, our thoughts and our feelings. We are attempting to survey our time so that we may live into yours. We hope someday, having solved the problems we face, to join a community of galactic civilizations. This record represents our hope and determination, and our good will in a vast and awesome universe.
Such a message seems especially apropos of the cosmic perspective that invariably develops every summer as I stand upon that little dock under the multitude of stars and clearly detailed dust lanes of our home galaxy. It is here that I am connected to my place in the Cosmos.
The power of such wondrous nights under the stars in such a remote locale is the potential surfacing to conscious awareness, however finite in duration, of that cosmic perspective. We are each connected to every other part of the Cosmos. This awareness necessarily embodies scientific as well as spiritual elements. It is most powerful when experienced by the mind and simultaneously within the heart. This cosmic perspective helps me to step beyond the confines of my own needs and concerns to better recognize that we are all connected to one another and to the vastness of all that lies overhead. Importantly, it offers the potential to help us recognize the inherent beauty in the world around us, to fix what we have broken, and to set our sites beyond the limitations of societal ego toward an inevitable expansion across the Solar System and far beyond.
Standing on that little dock looking up from my tiny corner of the seemingly infinite cosmic shore, I have lost track of time. The arc of the Milky Way moves across the deep, dark night sky. The water is perfectly still, the air has become cold, and eventually the necessity for sleep becomes apparent. It is time to walk back up to the cabin. This is no great loss when this far north. A cosmic perspective is not overly difficult to maintain when I am faced day after day with the promise of natural splendor and time to think. Instead, what is difficult is learning to maintain such a perspective when returning to the pace of modern life.
It is our shared challenge to evolve as a species with a cosmic perspective. It is our responsibility to recognize our connections and our obligations. How are we to become, and remain, cognizant of our place in the Cosmos when the mundane events of the workaday life saturate our attention? For me, it begins with a night under the stars on the edge of the BWCA, and perchance good company with whom to discuss it.
LinkedIn and 3rd parties use essential and non-essential cookies to provide, secure, analyze and improve our Services, and to show you relevant ads (including professional and job ads) on and off LinkedIn. Learn more in our Cookie Policy.
In many ways, the human body is the pinnacle of modern bio-engineering. While all living organisms have and continue to evolve to suit their environment, homo sapiens are particularly well-suited to rapid adaptation. And nowhere else is the human physique epitomized more than via athletics. Whether it's running, throwing, jumping or kicking, the natural human form truly stands out as superbly tuned for athleticism. However, one thing mustn't be forgotten, and that is that the entire reason sports are so celebrated and revered throughout human history is because they are rooted in self-preservation.
It would behoove us to recall the roots of the various sporting events that today we all celebrate with caloric foods and fermented beverages. Today's javelin throw was once our means of hunting game. The human's natural design suited for long distance running is the only reason we are able to catch swift animals that, while quick, lack endurance. Our ability to jump and absorb impacts on our feet allow us to maneuver in a variety of treacherous terrain. There are many ways we can draw parallels between our modern games and the skill-sets that we once needed to simply survive. But of all these abilities, none is more pure than hand-to-hand combat.
Martial Arts, the "Art of Fighting" is as central to human civilization and society as hunting and agriculture. Self-defense is at the core of all modern militaries. At it's best, it is the means by which we preserve not only our lives, but also our territory and property. At it's worst, it is the catalyst for our own self-destruction.
While war and peace may never exist without one another, by and large it is quite seldom that many people find themselves in genuine fight or flight situations. Far more often, martial arts is a tool used for self-development, meditation, and heath maintenance. This was certainly the case for me. Starting from the age of 8, I have dedicated a large portion of my life to the study of the martial arts, and by extension human anatomy. Coupled with my formal education in physics, I have gained a new and enriched appreciation for the human ability to manipulate the forces of nature to their advantage.
In this article, I would like to dedicate some time to diving into the nuances of fighting and self-defense, using the laws of nature to develop a new perspective on this most ancient of traditions. To do this I will analyze the homo sapien design through the lens of the four primary states of matter, from solid to plasma, and connect them with the various ways the body utilizes these states to protect, preserve, and ultimately reproduce itself, with nothing more than its own hands, feet, and mind.
First, I would like to begin with a basic lesson in anatomy. While my formal training in biology and chemistry ended in high school, thanks to the wonders of the internet, I have been able to not just refresh, but enhance, knowledge that I only barely grasped in my youth.
First I'll begin with the fundamentals. The human body is comprised of elements common and abundant throughout the cosmos. Many readers will likely remember the four basic ingredients that make a hairless ape, because they are also our main food groups. These are of course sugars (carbohydrates), fats (lipids), proteins (amino acids), and electrolytes (minerals). However, even though nutritionists organize these chemicals into separate categories, from a purely chemical point of view, all of these compounds are merely different ways of organizing the same ingredients.
With 21 additional elements, we can organize a functional human being, including all 11 major organ systems, which are in fact mutual to numerous species. With this basic background, we can now begin to piece together how we can transform these ingredients from a mere man, to a true warrior.
Not surprisingly, very little of the human body is solidified. This may seem like a disadvantage in combat, especially when humans anatomy is compared to the various weaponry found in the animal kingdom. While humans have the obvious basic tools of tooth and nail, they hardly compete with the fangs, claws, horns and stingers utilized by our animal cousins.
c80f0f1006