A Bedtime Story: The Story of Icarus and Atlas

This is totally a rerun, so if you've been reading any blog written by me for a year or so, you may recognize it. I wrote it from a specific context in my life, but it's kind of a riddle that I've never really felt resolved about. Any help?

The Story of Icarus and Atlas

Once upon a time, in a village not far from here, there lived two men (neighbors, as a matter of fact) named Icarus and Atlas. The village in which they lived had no name, for it was surrounded by a mystical and enchanted forest that was too thick to traverse. People who were courageous enough to venture into the woods quickly lost their way home, because there were no roads and the woods were so dense.

One day, while Atlas and Icarus were strolling through the village, they began to talk about the possibility of their being other villages like their own somewhere outside, beyond the bounds of the mystical forest. "If we cleared a road through the forest," said Atlas to his friend, "we could safely travel outside of the village in a straight line until we came upon some other people."

"Great idea," answered Icarus. "We ought to begin first thing in the morning." And, as the men separated at their houses, they settled in for a night filled with hope and anticipation for the exciting journey that was to begin at sunrise.

The next morning, however, their hope soon met with frustration when conflict about which direction they should clear. "It seems quite obvious to me," said Atlas, "that since the Sun sets in the west, this is the direction in which we will find other villages, because the Sun must visit us first," for it was common knowledge in the village that evenings were so much warmer than mornings because the mornings were when the Sun was first getting started and needed time to warm up from the cool of night. "If anyone lived to the east," Atlas concluded, "the Sun would be fully warmed by the time it reached us."

"Only a fool would believe such nonsense," said Icarus, since he felt himself a rather wise and educated man. "If anyone lived to the west of us, the Sun would surely be too warm by the time that it was over them for any kind of comfortable life. Instead, we should strike out east, where we will find a cooler but still somewhat hospitable land."

The two men argued and argued outside of their homes in the center of the village. As the Sun was setting (in the west, an event which Atlas continually referenced as his proof), the two men realized that they would never agree, and each determined to set out in his own direction the next morning.

At the sunrise the next day, the two went out to opposite ends of the village and began their work. From sunrise to sunset the two men chopped and chopped, each trying to outpace the other and comforting themselves with the futility of the work of the other. "After all," each man thought, "there are no people where he is heading." And on they chopped until nightfall.

The next morning, after both men had had some well earned sleep, both men were surprised and disappointed to find that the entirety of the forest each had cleared the day before had completely regrown in the night. Resilient, each man picked up his axe and began clearing again.

And so it continued for years, each man heading out in the morning, chopping all day, and sleeping all night, only to return the next morning to find that all of their clearing had regrown. After seven years of this daily pattern, Atlas decided that he had had enough. "This is foolishness," Atlas said to his neighbor. "Everyday we slave and toil, and every night the magic restores every branch of every tree we chop down."

"I'll never quit," replied Icarus, "for that is a greater foolishness. One day, Atlas, the magic will fail, and I will be able to clear the forest and make progress on my road."

The next morning, Icarus went out and chopped and Atlas stayed at home and drank tea, as was the custom in that village, and--for Icarus--the pattern continued. He went out at sunrise, chopped down trees all day, slept all night, only to return the next morning to find that all of his clearing had regrown. After another week of this, it occured to Icarus that maybe the forest was always growing and that he and Atlas' work was just keeping it from further encroaching on the village.

To test this thought, he went to the west edge of the village, to where Atlas had been chopping, to see if the magic that was restoring the forest was also enlarging it. To his great surprise, he found that the last day's work of chopping that Atlas had done had not regrown. "That fool," he said to himself. "He stopped chopping the very day that the magic quit working. It's power must be fading! If I continue to chop, it will eventually stop working on the east side of the village as well."

So he returned to his routine: every morning at sunrise he would go out, chop down trees all day, sleep all night, and find every morning that the magic was still working in his portion of the woods. The hope that he was close to outlasting the magic faded within the coming months, yet whenever he would ponder abandoning the project, he would remember that Atlas had quit the day the magic stopped, and that as long as there was any chance that the magic might stop, it was worth it for him to keep trying.

And so the pattern continued: wake up, chop, sleep, find that it had regrown. Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, months to years, and years to decades.

Until one day, Icarus died.



Now then, having read the story, who is the fool? Is it Atlas, who gave up a hair shy of the moment that he would have received the reward for his work? Or is it Icarus, who worked away a lifetime striving after a prize that would never be?



Peace, love, and joy to you all.

A Parable Recast for ORU

There was a man, a student here at ORU, who was out one evening jogging on the outdoor track. As he came by Lake Evelyn on his fifth lap, he was ambushed by a group of gang members who beat him up and took his watch, wallet, and iPod before vanishing into the night. Bloodied and bruised, the student crawled up the sidewalk toward Evelyn Roberts Drive.

Just then, a Head RA was heading back into the dorms. As she drove by the man, her headlights illuminated the now collapsed pile of broken bones and bloody clothes. She knew that he needed help, but she was running late for a meeting with the Dean and her Dorm Director, so she continued on into lower lot. As he vanished from her rear-view mirror, she consoled herself with the notion that since he was a man, she really wasn't supposed to intervene anyway.

Then, a Head Chaplain drove by the man. He, too, was running late, for a meeting to plan his missions trip to Zanzibar. Remembering that one of the chaplains he oversaw was a nursing major, he determined to call him and have him come help the man. But, since it is is so unsafe to use a cell phone while driving, he decided to wait until he had stopped to make the call. When he pulled into his spot, he saw the Head RA, an old friend from one of his sister wings, and they began chatting. By the time the Head Chaplain reached the doors to Towers, he had completely forgotten about the man.

Just then, a baseball player came roaring around the curves on Evelyn Roberts Drive in his Ford pickup. When the player saw the man lying on the side of the road, he was moved with compassion; in his many years of playing baseball, he had suffered many injuries. Though exhausted from a long day of practices, he pulled his truck over, moved some contraband from the passenger seat of his truck, and helped the injured man get in. He called security, drove him to the hospital, and helped him fill out all of the forms he needed to. When the man's RA and chaplain arrived, the baseball player was already gone.

Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers? ... You go, and do likewise.

As a random side note, while I was thinking this through I came to the conclusion that if I was to break my jaw, they'd probably have to not make me shave for a couple of weeks. Hmm....


Peace, love, and joy to you all.

A Parable, A History, and A Mystery

The Parable:

A man once was walking along the beach, scouring the sands for chests of treasure left behind from wars long ago. He searches through the debris and scattered rocks and shells for anything of value. Disappointed, he returns home empty-handed. If he discards the rubbish, what does this say about him?

The next day a small boy passes through the same beach. He sees all the scattered debris as treasure: he doesn't know any better. Turning over every rock and opening every shell, he happens across an oyster's shell still holding a magnificent pearl. But the treasure for him is not in the pearl's immeasurable value, but in his own wonder at the beauty of the pearl. If he retains the pearl forever, never cashing in on its value but always appreciating its simple beauty,
what does this say about him?

The History:

A group of nations once sat down together to divide the world up between them. "We are white," they said, "and we are better and stronger." Certainly, some "kill the Indian to save the man" and "white man's burden" jargon was thrown around...regardless, they drew arbitrary lines through a place now called the Middle East (and I don't mean Ohio and Iowa, though I am campaigning for MidEast to be the new title for the fake midwest [Colorado's got to be in the midwest--look at a map. This really probably frustrates me too much, but, sigh, we've got to be the freaking midwest]). Then they found oil there.

The Mystery (A Scavenger Hunt, if you will):

The Fly+Margaret Colin+imdb+"" = a synopsis



All of this refers to the conclusions I've come to. Maybe I'm wrong, but at least I'm entertaining.

Prizes available:

1 ) First comment.
2 ) Most clever comment before 11.00pm cst 12.11.06
3 ) First one to crack the mystery.

Oh, and you can't win twice, cause there's only one prize.

Peace, love, and joy to you all.