Despite Our Day Jobs

I took a journey from Omaha to Wichita today and discovered humanity on the road. Let me explain. I left during a ridiculous blizzard. The roads weren't slick but there were some incredibly strong sustained winds and it was snowing fairly heavily. Nebraska being the flat tundra that it is meant that visibility was never more than a couple hundred feet at best and at worst I had to drive using my GPS to make sure the road didn't curve. It was the first time that I can honestly say that I couldn't even see the end of my hood. After getting out of the Lincoln and Omaha metro areas traffic significantly thinned and when I turned south nearly disappeared all together. Occasionally an ethereal car would appear some distance in front of me and be gone in a whiff of white smoke in my rearview just as quickly.

The blowing snow was unrelenting and ubiquitous. Even when I drove down in a valley I could still see the maelstrom above, blurring the sun into a hazy orange sphere that Rothko's round cousin would have liked. I felt alien and knew that I don't belong here. None of us do. Glancing up at that sun made me realize how much energy we have to spend and how much manpower it takes to simply live on the planet. Farming, energy generation, all of the physical sciences are simply studies of how to maintain our foothold. And when we're gone the planet will wipe most of what we've done away pretty quickly. Despite our day jobs of account manager and installation technician and marketing intern we're nothing more than Lewis and Clark, plodding over the next hill to see what's there.

I feel a connection that has never been there before. A common purpose that we all share. We all came from the same ancestors, who were nothing short of badasses. They survived the frigid temperatures in nothing more than pelts of ferocious animals that they had taken with fearlessness and handmade weapons. I had packed a blanket, gloves, and water in case I went off of the road. I would have been afraid. But I had started to formulate backup plans. I figured out a way that I could have made a small fire inside my car to keep me warm through the night. Or I could have struck out to make a shelter outside. A snow cave to protect me from the wind and snow. In the morning I could have hunted food, sacrificing my car for parts to aid in my survival. And I would have looked up at the sun, and the moon that still hangs in the winter sky, and I would have known that I am not the last explorer of humankind.