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Bonzer Words!: Past Labour-Saving Devices

Gerda Aaberg muses on why humans are always longing for something else, instead of living in the "now''.

Gerda writes for Bonzer! magazine. Do please visit www.bonzer.org.au

I am talking about slaves. They saved their masters from life's most boring and tiring jobs. I wish I had a slave, or, maybe just a servant or two; but, whereas the latter would have to be paid and have holidays and could leave you, if they had had enough, a slave only had to have a minimum of everything, just so they were still functional.

I recently saw a documentary about life in pre-volcanic-eruption Pompeii. Because of re-enactment, it really brought home the whole setup of the master/slave situation. Normally, when the word slave comes up, I picture Afro-Americans in the past, probably because it is so close to our time. But there must have been slaves nearly as long ago as agriculture and settlements. It is a natural progression: You figure out how to feed yourself on plants—lots of them—and also lots of animals, so you don't have to keep running after them all the time. Then you make some sort of border arrangements to (a) keep the animals in, (b) keep your neighbours out. Yes, humans had suddenly become neighbours, and not always on friendly terms. Wars became more frequent, now that the settlers were sitting ducks. That meant villages came about for better protection, which again meant more tedious work. I am sure it was at first left for the women to do, but with all the births 'a woman's work was never done', so during the many wars, prisoners were taken from the survivors, and presto, everyone's workload was solved—everyone's, because now the slaves had become 'nobodies'. How they were made to stay, I dare not speculate on.

Slaves were in all cultures, except hunter/gatherers. Hunter/gatherers' men folk would not have anybody else to fix their weapons; their weapons were very personal to them. But with settlements came the specialists, branching out to the various trades. People today who can afford it and do not mind being snooped on by strangers, do have help in the house, as do many pensioners.

How wonderful it must have been in the good old days of the hunter/gatherers, where everybody was free and equal(?), no worries about insurance and litigation, because your possessions were very few. You were one with nature, even if you did not expect to live as long as we do. Was there quality of life? We cannot really find out, can we?

What is it with humans? We are always longing for something else. Very seldom, if ever, do we live for the 'Now'. What does that mean, anyway? If it means you are totally absorbed and concentrated on something, it might mean that you are either writing a story, or maybe meditating; maybe you are having a moment of great, romantic love, or listening to your favourite music. But it all comes to an end, and then it is back to longing. Do animals long? You bet, they do. As soon as I go to the fridge, saying "bone-time", my golden dog licks his lips, really, like you see it on adverts, while the black one is dripping big drops of saliva. During meditation, some people who are very good at it, are said to feel like time is standing still, while some people just fall asleep. Is that 'living in the now'? From near-death experiences, we are often told, that people who had them 'never felt more alive'. So, there is something to look forward to.

The human brain is like a runaway-train, always thinking 'what next', and is seldom satisfied for very long. Animals, at least the lions, seem to be quite happy until they get hungry again, but we don't really know. My black dog likes to lie near me when I sit, but is he happy? Both dogs look happy on the beach, but even they have a sense of time down there. They know for sure that we go to the pier, and then we go back, except one day, when I doubled up to pick up a special stone. They looked very surprised.

Aw, where was I? No, I do NOT really want a slave. That was a horrible phase in human history.

BRING ON PEACE, LOVE AND FREEDOM.


© Gerda Aaberg

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