Today started like most other days: waking up still groggy, pouring an old French press full of coffee, and figuring out the best way to make the most of a new set of daylight hours in my mind.
My son, who has now started to go to the local elementary school part-time (out of pure necessity as my wife and I need to work, and our efforts to build local unschooling networks haven't really panned out), took the day off today and stayed home. (By the way, as an update to Part 1, my lovely wife talked to the board of education, battled the beast, and my son is now free to be maskless every day he goes to the school)
I didn't want him watching YouTube all day or just sitting around with his tablet.
Something came back to my attention. We live in an old farmhouse here in Japan, and I recently had noticed an access door to an attic space in the house. I'd been too nervous to open it up to this point thanks to the preponderance of spiders, centipedes, giant hornets and bats here in the countryside.
When outside, all these things are fine and fascinating. But I had no desire to stick my head into that dark, small and enclosed space that could be their home. Still, I felt today was the day. I called my son down, we got the step ladder, and both he and I took turns peeking in. He went first.
What we found was nothing special. Just a little attic space in a traditional Japanese farmhouse from the 70s. Holes in the walls let light from the outside leak in. It was surprising there were no creatures waiting there for us, with such easy access to the shelter of the attic.
My son got spiderwebs in his curly hair, we took turns looking many times, and then closed the little access door. Both lamenting a lack of hidden treasure up there, stashed away years ago by the previous occupants.
"Man, if there was treasure up there I would be super rich" my son said. I agreed and let him know I was hoping to find something, too. This conversation led to talk of time capsules, and so instead of just wasting away the morning online we both decided to make our own.
The process was a nice little bonding time for me and my son. It also made me feel happy because we were doing something bigger than ourselves and our own lives. I wrote an article here on Read.Cash recently about the total uncertainty of the future in these backward and scary times. What with all the propaganda and vaccine mandates coming into shape.
Letting some folks in the future know that we were not duped, sharing some things my son loves with them, and just making the time capsule together was therapeutic for me.
It was my son's idea to write a letter.
The first thing he wanted to write was "Corona is a lie." I added my own message. Then we added some memories: toys, photos, a page from a comic book, and other such things. I also included a small amount of Bitcoin Cash on a paper wallet.
Boy, oh, boy did we seal that thing. Layers upon layers. Airtight, waterproofed, and wrapped up like a mummy.
Well, it's hidden away now.
The only way to find it is to use a map my son made.
Maybe some family will find it in the future and be rich in BHC. Hah! Or maybe they will understand not everyone believed the corona psyop, and folks still knew about love and human contact. Much like someone finding a time capsule from WWII era Germany denouncing Nazi propaganda.
Most importantly, in my mind our time capsule shows the power of love, and of humanity. Of family bonds and the human spirit — just enjoying and relishing living life right now.
I leave a lot wanting in the area of being a dad, I'm afraid. I am usually too stressed. too nervous, and should spend much more time with my son. Maybe I am being too hard on myself. I don't know. Either way, this morning I felt we did it right. And I feel like I've seen my life from a distance. With the future in mind, when I may not be here.
I feel more connected and grounded. In this time of a total uncertainty we've nodded our heads to, and accepted, the passage of time, and left our message for whomever may find it.
It feels good to be alive.
Great article and thanks for the inspiring idea to do with my kids. Seems like you’re doing a great job as a parent and I’m glad that you’re accepting and appreciating all the little moments in between chaos.