A Human's Approach to Adaptation

__This short story is derived from the novel “Adaptation”__

Many, many years ago we had already mastered how to obtain the sustenance we needed from this planet. We’ve continued to evolve our lives, technology and environment since, but to what benefit? I’m losing the ability to cope… We consider ourselves the top of the pyramid, but will our human traits lead to other animals eventually superseding us?

It seems my mind had wandered as our plodding trek became the norm.

High-rises unto small single-storey dwellings unto hardly any buildings at all; after reaching the outskirts of the city, our surroundings mainly entailed farmland, old roads and many power-lines. Some houses appeared to me like they were previously barns, leading me to assume much farmland had been abandoned and reused. Many old vehicles laden with substandard foodstuffs sped past us as we maintained a slow walking pace beside the road. I observed that I had automatically fallen into step beside the older Ashoka. I knew Bodhi was trailing behind us, but not too far for me to worry.

With each notable difference in scenery, with each step closer to home, my excitement had grown further. However, something seemed incomplete and hollow, giving me a nagging feeling of loneliness. I already missed a friend that I’d made in my first visit to a bustling city, but the odd feeling wasn’t that...

At least an hour passed since our departure, and our slow walk had become a trance of similar repeating surrounds.

I gazed dreamily at the heavily worked land over the adjacent wire fence. The corn plants looked slightly brown and thirsty.

Instantly I had a vision of the endless rows of the food-bearing orchards of home; my friends chuckling when accidentally dropping the fruit they had picked; mum holding a woven basket to her side and scolding them; baked crumble being shared out around the evening dinner table amongst laughter and happiness.

My daydream of bountiful crops, the land, the sun – it began to extend from our destination and back towards us, following paths we were soon to travel. I wasn’t concerned with having to walk so far – it was the potential for ecosystems that populated my mind, driven by the sun and water, which would continue running even when the moon and stars had come out at night. I felt small, dwarfed by these.

Being in the city, being around so many people for a while, it made me feel that all that was important was people; people’s events, people’s problems, people’s achievements… Taking a step outside it though…

The sheer relative enormous scale of the ecosystems reaching about the world re-entered my mind. I was such a tiny part of it all. This smallness relaxed me immensely.

However, that wasn’t it; that lonely feeling was still there.

I decided to disregard it for now.

I know my journey had made me into a different person. My dreams for everyone on Earth to be good to the environment, and lead easier happier healthy lives... How arrogant. How I had wished everyone would become like my commune...

Our group had been silent for a while and, speaking to nobody in particular, I felt the need to connect with someone. “As an eco-commune we’re trying, but we also have our own flaws, just as the city did. I mean, the city is not a failed attempt at emulating us – being as ‘new age’ and ‘modern’ as us – they had their own angry debates, their own beliefs and views of the world... what it means to be alive... don’t you think?”

“Ha, well I...” Ashoka began slowly. “That’s a whole bunch of stuff there, Charini. I don’t know...”

The confused response from him made me sheepishly realise that my head really was just a muddle of thoughts, and not the consistent revelation I had thought it to be.

I heard Bodhi pipe up from behind. “If some of us feel... confident enough... to start for... something new...” I looked over my shoulder to find Bodhi still partially deep in thought. It doesn’t take a long mesmerising walk for Bodhi to ponder like this. Knowing this about him brought a smile to my face.

Not receiving much else of a response though, I myself returned to mulling and reminiscing. Nomads are quite different to us too, like the old man Bodhi had said he saw before we left home. Since our commune was the only form of civilization closest to the rocky desert, they sought us out on the rare occasion, when in need. I had no personal recollection of the man, but continued daydreaming about him as we walked regardless.

I envisioned a group of six nomadic families crossing the rocky desert by foot. They carried hardly any possessions about them at all. For a moment I imagined one of them painstakingly dragging along the ginormous TV I’d seen in the home of my new city friend, and giggled to myself.

By evening the nomads had come to rest by a crackling campfire amongst a treed oasis. Bodhi’s old man was there. I pictured him to be wearing a black-and-white striped cloth, draped from his head to his shoulders, and his old skin would be weathered from a dry desert life. He was telling a story to earnestly listening children. As the man finished it with a smile, he already had the children cackling from his punch-line. Everyone in the camp was relaxed and the laughter was infectious.

Nomads, our commune, and the city folk. Considering how these different ways of life bounced off each other almost made me want to grind my teeth. The need for them to be working together in unison felt incredibly important, yet the task could be seen akin to trying to join together opposing poles of magnets.

If animals are forced to adapt, it's not like they first bother with a town meeting! When faced with misfortune, do animals hold debates, start research and then hope that somebody might act upon it? Do animals try and work out how they feel about it all first? With some animals, a leader emerges fast and the rest quickly follow.

So where does that leave us?

We each dreamt we could fight against adversity but when we met the real world it all got confused. I try to be a good person, do what my heart feels is right, but then I sometimes find myself doing the opposite…

So then how are we supposed to know what is right? I think... it's what I can feel deep down in my heart, and I continue to hope it is similar for everyone... even if they’re as bad as me...

I stopped walking mid-pace.

So I wasn’t leaving that hollow lonely spot alone after all. My heart felt like it was pleading with everyone and no-one – something that was begging for resolution. Maybe it was something I also misunderstood?

“I...”

I heard the others eventually come to a stop and, despite me staring at the ground, I knew they’d all turned to face me.

“Need a rest Charini?” enquired Ashoka, him resting a hand upon my shoulder. “These packs are all heavy now, and a few minutes rest every now and then won’t be a total disaster.”

A rest was not really what I had been thinking of, but it was immensely welcome nonetheless. City folk arguing about people's future, the nomads seeking out help, and now my tired shoulders. It was partially relieving that, as long as humans are social animals, with the adversity of change they will group, and will never need to face any renewal alone.

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http://www.huxley.id.au/adaptation