If you have ever read “Watership Down” by Richard Adams then this blog will make more sense. For those of you who have not read the book (or have not read the book recently) let me give you a little background.
The book is about rabbits and it spends a lot of time up front explaining a few things about rabbits and how they think. On page 2 of the book there is an explanation of how rabbits count…
Rabbits can count up to four. Any number above four is “hrair” – “a lot,” or “a thousand.”
This was not a very important issue for the rabbits in the book as they seldom needed to indicate a specific number of anything (above four that is). One of the main character’s name is “Fiver” and this might seen strange but it turns out that is just his nickname (his real name is “Hrairoo” which translates to “Little Thousand"). OK, so with that background in mind, on with the blog.
I think all of us have our own “hrair”, a number that is so big that it is hard for us to grasp. Anything above that number is really the same as that number. When we are young the number is small and it changes as we grow older. For my daughter (who is 10) I imagine that number is something like 1,000. My son (who will turn 14 in 6 weeks) has a higher number that is probably like 10,000. I am not certain what my number is but if I had to guess it would be 100,000. I think (especially when it comes to money) that any number over 100,000 has the same “meaning” as any other number over 100,000. Oh, I can grasp the concept of millions and billions and trillions (I did major in math in college after all) but really, if I am being honest, I have no idea how to describe (using words, not numbers) the difference between a million and a trillion. So, anything over 100,000 is just “hrair” to me. When CNN reports on some company losing $2 billion, that has no more meaning than if they lost $200,000. To me, it is just “a lot” of money (or hrair).
Each of our minds have this built in limitation where we cannot grasp things beyond a certain point. it is not limited to numbers. This same concept came up the other day in a song.
Recently I bought the soundtrack to the movie, “O Brother, Where Art Thou?” I remember really liking the song, “I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow” from watching the movie and I found the CD on the clearance rack donning a $1 price tag. There was also a 20% off, storewide sale going on so buying this was almost a no brainer. I say “almost” since it was a little scratched up but I took a chance and spent the $0.80 (it ripped to mp3 format just fine in case you were wondering). There are 18 tracks on the CD (including 3 versions of “I Am A Man Of Constant Sorrow”) and I do remember a few from when I watched the movie years ago. One song I did not recognize is called “Big Rock Candy Mountain”.
The song is about a hobo who is telling his fellow hobos about a paradise located on the Big Rock Candy Mountain. He goes on and on describing this perfect place. I am not sure if I am allowed to post lyrics without consent of the author but here it goes…
One evening as the sun went down
And the jungle fires were burning,
Down the track came a hobo hiking,
And he said, "Boys, I'm not turning
I'm headed for a land that's far away
Besides the crystal fountains
So come with me, we'll go and see
The Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
There's a land that's fair and bright,
Where the handouts grow on bushes
And you sleep out every night.
Where the boxcars all are empty
And the sun shines every day
And the birds and the bees
And the cigarette trees
The lemonade springs
Where the bluebird sings
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
All the cops have wooden legs
And the bulldogs all have rubber teeth
And the hens lay soft-boiled eggs
The farmers' trees are full of fruit
And the barns are full of hay
Oh I'm bound to go
Where there ain't no snow
Where the rain don't fall
The winds don't blow
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
You never change your socks
And the little streams of alcohol
Come trickling down the rocks
The brakemen have to tip their hats
And the railway bulls are blind
There's a lake of stew
And of whiskey too
You can paddle all around it
In a big canoe
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains,
The jails are made of tin.
And you can walk right out again,
As soon as you are in.
There ain't no short-handled shovels,
No axes, saws nor picks,
I'm bound to stay
Where you sleep all day,
Where they hung the jerk
That invented work
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains.
I'll see you all this coming fall
In the Big Rock Candy Mountains
If you took the time to read through all the lyrics then you might have chuckled a bit (I know I did). But I think beyond the intended humor is a theme. This hobo, when describing his perfect world, still kept a hobo theme. He thought about the best day as a hobo and then imagined that living that way every day was as good as it gets. So finding a boxcar to travel in was his perfect way to travel, not being able to afford a ticket (or maybe a car). Finding a barn full of hay to sleep on was perfect, not having a house in which to sleep. Finding a lake full of stew was the perfect meal and jails that you could break out of easily was perfect compared to finer foods or not having to steal (or whatever it was that would have caused him to be thrown in jail). They would even kill the “jerk” who invented work.
When it came to knowing what the good life was, the highest “number” he could think of was a good day for a hobo. Anything beyond that was “hrair” to him. I wonder if I am that way with things in my life as well. Will I be limited in life to what I can imagine or dream? Am I my own worst enemy when it comes to happiness, success, etc, in that I stop at the edge of my limited imagination and go no further?
This reminds me of another song. One of my favorite groups was The Waiting and their song “Staring At A Bird” is the one I am thinking of here. I will not give you the entire lyrics but basically the singer muses as he stares at a bird in a tree. He first thinks the bird wishes that it were him. He then thinks that perhaps it is he who should wish to be the bird (given that the bird seems not to worry too much about food or a place to live, things that wear down the singer). In the end the chorus says…
But I'm pinned down in my bed again
I don't think I could fly (I wouldn't try)
If I was a bird I would be content
To peck along the ground
'Cause I'm pinned down again...
I have always related to the line where he admits that even if he somehow were a bird, he would likely be content to peck along the ground and never even attempt to fly. This is how he sees his life (“stuck” in his bed due to laziness / “pecking along the ground”) compared to what it could / should be (living life more fully / flying).
I am not sure what the main point of this blog is really. Maybe I am telling myself that I need to dream bigger, stretch myself further, and stop being content with what I think can make me happy and reach out and do more, be more and live more.
More to come I am sure.
Jon
