Fighting Uphill

“This universe henceforth without a master seems to him neither sterile nor futile. Each atom of that stone, each mineral flake of that night filled mountain, in itself forms a world. The struggle itself toward the heights is enough to fill a man’s heart. One must imagine Sisyphus happy.”

– Albert Camus, The myth of Sisyphus

Followers of my writing know that I depart from topics that I take up only to return to them eventually down the track somewhere at sometime. Many reasons I suppose for this behaviour. First amd foremost I am a writer that enjoys many topics and I am fascinated by many things. But the one thing that acts as a tree trunk for all the meandering concepts, stories, advice and rants is philosophy, and how we can take the deep thoughts, meditations and questions from dead and alive men and women and apply them to our lives.

An absolutely beautiful guidline of philosophy is it rarely ever has a set interpretation, rather it offers a new way to think about ideas or problems or indeed yourself. And that’s where we come to Sisyphus.

The long and short of the ancient myth is that Sisyphus was a great king who was hated by the gods. They had sent their version of death to claim his sole many times but each time he outsmarted them. Finally, finally hades hatched a plan to put a large boulder at the bottom of a long slope in a cave, at the top of the slope was a hole that lead to the outside world. Hades and death brought Sisyphus down here and told him “we are sick of this game we play, we only have one final test for you. Roll this boulder up to the top, then you you will claim immortality, but once you start, you cannot stop till you reach the top”

Sisyphus was bold and had already outsmarted the gods and death itself numerous times, so he flicked back his golden hair and placed his hands on the boulder. It was heavy but he could roll it slowly, and by the time he got to the tope he had expended all his strength. But then the boulder jumped out of his hands and rolled back down to the start. Hades had cursed the boulder to never reach the top, effectively trading Sisyphus in this constant pushing then walking back down and pushing for all of eternity.

How do we apply this to our lives? Well let’s look at his task. An unlikeable one to be sure. He could wallow amd lament. He could thrash his feet and cures the heavens. Or he could spite the gods that cursed him. If we imagine Sisyphus setting about his task with a broad grin, laughing as the boulder rolls to the bottom, then he hasn’t lost. He is the king of his own environment. Completely in charge of how he views his reality and not tossed about carelessly by forces beyond his control. And by reframing his outlook. His life will forever be positive.

If you enjoyed this please share and tell me what you think. I would love to delve more into philosophy at some point. Also follow my new writing instagram, – kj_thewriter

The Empty City, Part Two

The Hidden

Dr Carrington tried to place the strange hieroglyphs to anything he had seen before. From any other culture but so far he was at a loss. The strange swirling patterns showed some sort of intelligence and the fact that some symbols repeated themselves showed that this was indeed some sort of language. He shook his head in frustration and looked further down the path. The giant walls of the mesa blocked out the already dwindling sunlight and he could feel the air cooling rapidly, he would need to find shelter quick. He shambled forward along the path and quickly came across more of the strange tombstones, as if they were some sort of mile markers that one would find on the outskirts of a city, He had hoped this was the case as the pain in his foot was reaching a screaming pitch and if it weren’t for his curiosity he would be completely awash in pain.

The Path began to get narrower and soon the walls were rubbing up agains the good doctors shoulders giving him nasty scrapes when he became to carless with his meandering. he now had to turn side on and shimmy through the crack which seemed to be getting thiner and thiner. He could see markings on the wall directly in front of his face telling him that indeed something was this way. The doctors mind began reeling at what possiblilities waited further down, would there be anything at all?. Finally it seemed that the crack had stopped, above him the two walls of the crack had joined and become soild mesa wall, only a small child sized hole was remaining at the bottom. he could feel air blowing from the otherside telling him that whatever soace was in there was large enough to generate a strong breeze. here he faced a dilema. the Plane radioed its last position before going down and burning, should he stay just in the mesa’s crack if the Royal airforce sends its pilots from Cairo to look form him or should he indulge his curiosity. It kgnawed at him, the idea of something unseen on the otherside of this limestone wall, would this lead him some sort of unexplained tomb? This could be his legacy, this could be his new tale of daring adventure. He took a deep breath in and struggled down to a crouching poisition. his bundled up frame struggling to compress itself to a size small enough for the hole. he sent his legs out in front of him and let them pass through the hole. he was kicking his legs to find some sort of footing, a ledge to stabilisr himself perhaps but he found nothing but air. he slid his back along the ground forcing his torso through the hole until only his head reamind. still tring to find a footing, something on the other side to hold. thenhis weight made the decision for him and he fell through the hole into the other side.

The air was russing past him and for a brief moment he was in free fall when he crashed into what felt like hay and loose sticks. laying there for a few moments trying to collect his thoughts as the wind had been knocked out of him. he glaced up and could see the hole, it was perhaps ten meters above him on the wall, but where was he?. The doctor sat up, he appeared to been in some sort of room, the walls seemed to be made of compreesed and dried mud like one would find in the older parts of Cairo and there was a few pots and wooden debrie scattered around. he figure he had crash landed in someones house!. The doctor got to his feet in case the occupants or some other witness to the fall came running and he tried to make hiself look as presentable as possible, but curiously noone came. He slowly walked to what looked like a door, it was made of planks of wood lashed together with no door handle, he stood at the door and listend for a moment. All he could hear was a low howling of the wind, peaking through the planks of the door he could make out a roough street and what apeared to be another house on the other side. taking in a deep breath he placed his hand on the door and pushed it open into the street. He was standing in a narrow lane, four meters wide with bulidings on both sides, looking down the lane he could see that buildings went further into a great mass of them, towerering ever higher, some higher then what he had seen in london, all apearing to be made out of the same compressed dried mud as the building he had exited. He had to collect his thoughts, for when he faced the way he came, he could see the hole he fell through, the walls of the masa stretching out in both directions until they disapered from veiw. but oposite the wall, the city towered ahead, possibly hundreds of kilometers ahead. it made no sense, they would of seen this large habitation from the sky, and surely a city this large would of had some sort of radio and heard their distress calls. He couldnt belive it, the city ahead of him rivaled New York in size, yet there was one, glaring, strage, and imideate diffrence. The city was completely silent. the whole area infact, you could hear a pin drop and indeed the most notable sound that the doctor could hear was the sound of his heart beating. He called out into the distance, a long bellowing hello followed by a request for help. nothing, and even more eriely, his voice made no echo in the massive space. The light here was dwindleing, the sun going just over the horrizon now bathing the world in a dark almost blue hue. he would have to find someone, his foot was screaming in pain still and he was starving and thirsty. a battle of curiosity, fear and survival insticts where raging inside him, he glanced back to the hole he fell through, the house, if it were a house, that he crashed into, and the street that stretchout toward the large and towering city. Deducing that he would have a better chance in a large urban area he lumbered off toward the city.

The going was getting slower and the light fading. on the walls of the buildings lay dry torches so he grabbed one and using his lighter created both a source of warmth and light. Moving down the lane in the near dark with the light flickering off the surroundings, the cold and silent surroundings made him feel the sort of fear one has as a child, the light playing tricks on him as the dancing flame of the torch cast up almost moving shadows around him. Looking around he still could see no sign of human habitation, other than the buildings around him, no signs, no street litter, nothing. as if some great culture had built a city with the intention of filling it with people later and just not getting around to it. he stopped for a moment, he had reached a intersection, his light not strong enough to make out anything in any direction. He slowed his breathing, forcing himself back into the scientific mindset. Maybe its inhabitants left following a plague, maybe they were conquered, maybe the city used up its resources and its people had to flee taking all their possessions with them. All the deductions and calculations running through his mind, when suddenly, a sound that evokes the primal sense of unease was conjured up from the shadows to his left. a low grating noise that could be misconstrued as breath. His attention immediately drawn to it, he whipped his head in the direction of the sound and he thought for a moment his eyes played tricks on him. For a brief flash he saw what he thought was a tall figure, around ten meters from him, and standing at three meters tall wearing a long cloak. the image was there for a second before it seemed to melt away into the blackness. His hear racing he called out into the dark, once , twice, several times. but nothing replied to him. thoroughly shaken he quickly turned and headed in the other direction, unsure if he was still heading to the centre of the city. He was trying to piece together the apparition in his head but each time he tried it seemed to melt away, as if even in his mind it was ethereal. slowly his scientific mind came to its senses, a trick of the light mixed with a tired and dehydrated brain, he thought as he confidently trudged on, then the low scraping breathing noise came again, from behind him, closer, and seemingly gaining on him…….

To be continued

The Empty City

A tale of a lost traveller

Dr Carrington limped ungracefully as he moved through the valley. Not four hours ago he had gained conciousness after his plane, an old british dual prop airframe usuallly reserved for mai service, came in low as it tried to glide into the valley on no power. They had been traveling from Dar es Salaam to Jordan when the had lost engine power somwhere over Egypt and as they decended they found themselves over a vast dry and flat valley amoungst the sands, Tall buttes and flat toped sand stone monoliths shooting up from the valley floor. the ground seemed flat so the pilot attempted to come in and land but the left wing clipped a butte and the steel bird slammed hard into the floor. the two pilots sucumbing to their injuries shortly after and the wreckage cathing fire, The good doctor had no choice but to set out in search of help.

Miraculously he only sustained a few broken bones in his foot which whilst causing him pain, didn’t prohibit his locomotion to much and for this he was thankful, for as he moved slowly through the valley he soon became to realise that if he did not find help soon he would be forced to take shelter in the small cracks in some of the large limestone buttes. He was aware of Bedouin herders that travelled in valleys like this and set up camps due to the flat ground here so his chances of survival, whilst slim, were better then nothing. The sun was setting behind him drawing long shadows in front of him. night was coming and he would have to find shelter soon. a large mesa towered out of the ground in front of him that had a vertical crack in it, at least there he could make a fire and be safe from the night winds. he approached quickly as he estimated he only had a few more hours of day light left. The crack was about ten meters high and two wide and seemed to snake its way into the mesa. The doctor couldn’t help himself, the curiosity of what lay further down the crack enthralled him and after all there may be a spring or the something that he could use to make his situation a little brighter. He ignored the pain from his foot and followed the snaking path. It twisted wildly and at some points perplexingly it seemed like it should of twisted back onto itself but he never found himself in a part of the trail he had previously walked. He braced himself against the wall to take the weight off his foot for a moment when a curious sight caught his eye. On the trail ahead of him appeared to be a sort of stone tablet, jutting out of the ground. He limped over to investigate. It was perhaps as large as a tombstone and covered in markings he had never seen before. certain that this was evidence of human habitation further ahead he pushed the pain out of his mind and marched on, curious at what lay ahead

Continued in part two…