Sleeping and Eating

There is a profound wisdom embedded into the most simple and visceral of daily rhythms that is often overlooked. Although, that seems to be the nature of reality.  That is, the simplest of things are the hardest to actually grapple with at the most fundamental level.  Take mathematics as an example.  A sharp middle-schooler can grasp and manipulate quadratic equations to his satisfaction and produce correct answers.  It is normally not until high school that one learns derivatives and integrals in calculus, if at all; and of course, there’s plenty beyond that as well.  However, perhaps the more difficult task in math is not to keep going to more complex equations, but rather to adequately and comprehensively define the most simple of terms.  For example, defining the number “one”, at least at a philosophical level.  I assure you, it is more difficult than you think, and if your answer is “one less than two” then you have not thought through it enough at all.  Does the number “one” exist?   Is it an abstract computational entity that overlays with reality relatively well.  If you erase all the number “ones” in your math textbook - and all textbooks for that matter - have you erased the number “one”.  The answer, of course, is no.  Regardless, it is the simplest of things that have the most profound truths buried deep within them.  This is especially true of the necessity of sleep and eating.  Beyond refreshment and nourishment and the pleasures thereof, I think there’s an even deeper hidden beauty in these two daily rhythms that is taken for granted.  That is, these simple realities of being human actually are the fuel that turns the engine of natural social relations.  That is to say, if you needn’t sleep, why come home, ever?   Why have a home unless you want a perpetual place to be alone?   You wouldn’t need it to rest, remember!   You would just be free to roam, indefinitely.  What a tragedy this would be for you.  Weaving ever more complex webs of entanglement without time for built-in reflection as you lay your head on your pillow at night.  No need to have a family - remember, you don’t need to go home.  Couples need not lie down together out of necessity, if ever.  What a disaster!   And no mealtime!  No need to sit around the table with family or friends - no need to sit around the table at all; remember no need to eat all.  What a remarkable beauty there is, however, in sleep and in mealtime.  These do not force us to be together, as there are plenty of people who do these tasks primarily alone.  But these regular rhythms do gracefully invite us to have fellowship with our fellow human beings; both with family and one with friends.  The most basic of human needs may actually be the glue that holds our otherwise fragile little societies together. What a grace God has given us in binding us together in and through the mundane.