Again and Again and Again [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on October 22, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

“All stories are ancient and all stories are new…”~ anonymous

A 4,700 year old shipwreck was just discovered off the coast of Turkey. It sank centuries before Homer recorded the epic oral stories, The Odyssey and Iliad, tales that we moderns consider ancient. I marvel that sailors 5,000 years ago looked at the setting sun – the same sun – with awe as I do. I imagine that sailors 5,000 years ago relaxed when arriving in safe harbor just as the pleasure sailors I watch slowly cruising down the channel toward the marina. Home.

The Iliad is a tale of the Trojan War. One of the major themes of the epic story, “How personal pride and petulant feuds among leaders destroy lives,” is relevant for us today. It is relevant in every age, across every culture. It is a human story and endures because humanity seems impervious to learning the lesson.

Or, perhaps the lesson is lost because the tale is a powerful mirror reflecting what makes us human. We do not consider the cost to others of our personal pride or the petulant feuds of our leaders.

And then, of course, there’s this bit of enduring nonsense: “The Olympian gods actively take sides, argue among themselves, and manipulate human events.” Petulant feuds. Personal pride.

Gods who are small enough to take sides are suspiciously human-like, aren’t they? They are used by humans to justify all manner of horror enacted upon other humans. The story never changes. Righteousness requires an endorsement by the god-of-the-day.

I read another theme from these ancient stories that is also very relevant to our times: “The heavy human cost of war and the short-lived nature of glory.” So much loss. So many people die. And what is gained that is more precious than life? Land? Oil? Prestige? Revenge? Was the life of the tiny, cherished Ukrainian child, who died in their stroller, worth the gain?

Time passes. I imagine myself looking at the same sun, asking the same questions, as Homer. We tell stories to impart wisdom or to illuminate past mistakes so we might not repeat them again and again and again.

It’s possible that my assumption is flawed. Perhaps we tell these stories so we might recognize, when standing amidst the current horror, that our horror is the same as horrors-past; we actually learn nothing. Perhaps it is not about learning or growing. Perhaps the human meta story, as told by Homer and revisited by poets across the ages, is nothing more or less than Groundhog Day.