C.S. Lewis

C.S. Lewis

Saturday, March 1, 2014

Principal Stress and Henry Wadsworth Longfellow

I’ve been sitting here all day on a SATURDAY writing a lab report.  The young adult in me still wants my Saturdays to be full of cartoons, hiking or running outside, spending time with friends, or basically anything not work-related or requiring a thought process of any kind.  Starting to hate writing, Mechanics of Materials, and labs in general, I began thinking about who even cares about this mess.  Honestly!  Who is ever going to care about the principal stresses and strains that occur at every point on a cantilever beam, and why is it worth my time! 

                For those of you who may not know exactly what that means, let me explain.  Everything in the universe is under stress of some kind, be it gravity, air pressure, the weight of another object, etc.  Based on the fact that we exist in a 3-dimensional universe, scientists and engineers analyze the world along three Cartesian axes, x, y, and z.  Principal stresses are the magnitudes of the stress normal (perpendicular) to the Cartesian axes system.  Essentially, stress is on every object in every direction, inescapable and all-encompassing.

Unable to get the numbers to work out, reworking each of about 20 calculations multiple times to try to find the error, I finally gave up and took a break.  Then I realized the importance of what I was studying. 
Stress.  Everywhere. “Inescapable and all-encompassing.” Sounds a little applicable to life, right? 
The title of this blog is “Aspiration and Entropy.”  This is representative of my view that life is comprised of hope in spite of a fallen world.  Nothing is perfect on this planet, everything is degrading by the laws of physics.  We are all under stress at all moments in time, much like the theory behind principal stresses. 

The real trick to life is learning to handle the stresses that surround and act upon us constantly.  It may sound cheesy, but survival means fighting stress and seeking peace and joy consistently.  The world tries to bring you down with work, commitments, human relations, and personal outlooks.  It is a person’s response to these challenges that shapes who they are.  Henry Wadsworth Longfellow wrote a poem entitled “The Ladder of St. Augustine,” which encapsulates wonderfully how man must always fight through the stresses and strains of life.  Anyways, enjoy the poem!  I'm back to work... hopefully for the last time!

The Ladder of St. Augustine

  Saint Augustine! well hast thou said,
  That of our vices we can frame
A ladder, if we will but tread
  Beneath our feet each deed of shame!

All common things, each day's events,
  That with the hour begin and end,
Our pleasures and our discontents,
  Are rounds by which we may ascend.

The low desire, the base design,
  That makes another's virtues less;
The revel of the ruddy wine,
  And all occasions of excess;

The longing for ignoble things;
  The strife for triumph more than truth;
The hardening of the heart, that brings
  Irreverence for the dreams of youth;

All thoughts of ill; all evil deeds,
  That have their root in thoughts of ill;
Whatever hinders or impedes
 The action of the nobler will;--

All these must first be trampled down
  Beneath our feet, if we would gain
In the bright fields of fair renown
  The right of eminent domain.

We have not wings, we cannot soar;
  But we have feet to scale and climb
By slow degrees, by more and more,
  The cloudy summits of our time.

The mighty pyramids of stone
  That wedge-like cleave the desert airs,
When nearer seen, and better known,
  Are but gigantic flights of stairs.

The distant mountains, that uprear
  Their solid bastions to the skies,
Are crossed by pathways, that appear
  As we to higher levels rise.

The heights by great men reached and kept
  Were not attained by sudden flight,
But they, while their companions slept,
  Were toiling upward in the night.

Standing on what too long we bore
  With shoulders bent and downcast eyes,
We may discern--unseen before--
  A path to higher destinies.

Nor deem the irrevocable Past,
  As wholly wasted, wholly vain,
If, rising on its wrecks, at last
  To something nobler we attain.



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