The Taproot Podcast - 🗿The Birth of Architecture: Neolithic Psyche

Episode Date: July 7, 2024

[caption id="attachment_5359" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] "Dolmen de Menga entrance: Massive stone portal of 6,000-year-old Neolithic tomb in Antequera, Spain."[/caption][caption id="attachment_5354" align="aligncenter" width="1024"] "La Peña de los Enamorados: Distinctive mountain face aligned with Dolmen de Menga, resembling human profile."[/caption] Key Ideas: The invention of architecture during the Neolithic period marked a significant shift in human psychology and religion, creating a division between natural and man-made spaces and giving rise to new concepts of ownership, territoriality, and sacred spaces. The relationship between architecture and the awareness of death is explored, with the idea that built structures allowed humans to create a sense of permanence and continuity in the face of mortality. Neolithic dolmens and their alignment with the summer solstice may have played a crucial role in rituals related to death, the afterlife, and the cyclical nature of the cosmos. The astronomical alignment of the Dolmen de Menga is part of a larger pattern of archaeoastronomical significance in Neolithic monuments across Europe, suggesting a shared cosmological understanding among ancient societies. Neolithic art and architecture, including the use of red ochre and iron oxide paintings, may be linked to shamanic practices and altered states of consciousness. Peter Sloterdijk's theory of spheres is applied to understand the evolution of human spatial awareness and the desire to recreate protected, womb-like spaces through architecture. The fundamental nature of architecture and its role in human life is explored through various philosophical, psychological, and sociological perspectives. Adventure Time with My Daughter My daughter Violet likes the show Adventure Time. She loves mythology, creepy tombs, long dead civilizations and getting to be the first to explore and discover new things. I took my 6-year-old daughter to the Neolithic portal Tomb, or Dolmen, Dolmen de Menga in Antequera, while on a trip to Spain. This ancient megalithic monument, believed to be one of the oldest and largest in Europe, dates back to the 3rd millennium BCE. It is made of 8 ton slabs of stone that archaeologists have a passing idea of how ancient people moved. It has a well drilled through 20 meters of bedrock at the back of it and it is oriented so that the entrance faces a mountain that looks like a sleeping giant the ancient builders might have worshiped. All of this delighted my daughter. The dolmen's impressive architecture features massive stone slabs, some weighing up to 180 tons, forming a 25-meter-long corridor and a spacious chamber. Inside, a well adds to the mystery, possibly used for rituals or as a symbol of the underworld. What's truly fascinating is the dolmen's alignment with the nearby La Peña de los Enamorados mountain. During the summer solstice, the sun rises directly over the mountain, casting its first rays into the dolmen's entrance, illuminating the depths of the chamber. This astronomical alignment suggests the ancient builders had a sophisticated understanding of the cosmos. According to archaeoastronomical studies, the Dolmen de Menga might have served as a symbolic bridge between life and death, connecting the world of the living with the realm of the ancestors. The solstice alignment could have held great spiritual significance, marking a time of renewal, rebirth, and the eternal cycle of existence. Sharing this incredible experience with my daughter and witnessing her awe and curiosity as she felt the weight of boulders that men had moved by hand, is a moment I'll treasure forever.  I reminded her that every time she has seen a building, be it a school or a sky-scraper, it all started here with the birth of architecture, and maybe the birth of something else too. Thinking about prehistory is weird because thinking about the limits of our human understanding is trippy and prehistory is, by definition, before history and therefore written language, meaning we cant really know the subjective experience of anyone who was a part of it. Talking to a child about the limits of what we as a species do or can know are some of my favorite moments as a parent because they are opportunities to teach children the importance of curiosity, intuition and intellectual humility than many adults never learn. Watching Violet contemplate a time when mankind didn't have to tools or advanced scientific knowledge was a powerful moment when I saw her think so deeply about the humanity she was a part of. What the Invention of Architecture did to Psychology Anecdote of the Jar by Wallace Stevens I placed a jar in Tennessee, And round it was, upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness Surround that hill.   The wilderness rose up to it, And sprawled around, no longer wild. The jar was round upon the ground And tall and of a port in air.   It took dominion everywhere. The jar was gray and bare. It did not give of bird or bush, Like nothing else in Tennessee. Prior to the advent of architecture, the world was an undivided, seamless entity, with no clear boundaries between human habitation and the natural environment. The construction of dolmens and other architectural structures shattered this unified perception, creating a new paradigm in which humans actively shaped and claimed portions of the earth for their own purposes. This act of claiming space and erecting structures upon it represented a profound psychological shift, as humans began to assert their agency and control over their surroundings. The division of the world into natural and man-made spaces had far-reaching implications for human psychology. It fostered a sense of ownership and territoriality, as individuals and communities began to identify with and attach meaning to the spaces they created. This attachment to claimed spaces gave rise to new concepts of home, belonging, and identity, which were intimately tied to the built environment. Simultaneously, the unclaimed, natural world began to be perceived as a separate entity, one that existed beyond the boundaries of human control and understanding. The impact of this division on religion was equally profound. The creation of man-made spaces, such as dolmens, provided a tangible manifestation of human agency and the ability to shape the world according to human beliefs and desires. These structures became sacred spaces, imbued with religious and spiritual significance, where rituals and ceremonies could be performed. The separation of natural and man-made spaces also gave rise to new religious concepts, such as the idea of sacred and profane spaces, and the belief in the ability of humans to create and manipulate the divine through architectural means. The significance of this division between natural and man-made spaces is beautifully captured in Wallace Stevens' anecdote of the jar. In this short poem, Stevens describes placing a jar in a wilderness, which "took dominion everywhere." The jar, a man-made object, transforms the natural landscape around it, asserting human presence and control over the untamed wilderness. This simple act of placing a jar in the wild encapsulates the profound psychological and religious implications of the invention of architecture. The jar represents the human impulse to claim and shape space, to impose order and meaning upon the chaos of the natural world. It symbolizes the division between the natural and the man-made, and the way in which human creations can alter our perception and understanding of the world around us. Just as the jar takes dominion over the wilderness, the invention of architecture during the Neolithic period forever changed the way humans perceive and interact with their environment, shaping our psychology and religious beliefs in ways that continue to resonate to this day. The Relationship of Architecture to the Awareness of Death Robert Pogue Harrison, a professor of Italian literature and cultural history, has written extensively about the relationship between architecture, human psychology, and our understanding of death. In his book "The Dominion of the Dead," Harrison explores how the invention of architecture fundamentally altered human consciousness and our attitude towards mortality. According to Harrison, the creation of built structures marked a significant shift in human psychology. Before architecture, early humans lived in a world where the natural environment was dominant, and death was an ever-present reality. The invention of architecture allowed humans to create a sense of permanence and stability in the face of the transient nature of life. By constructing buildings and monuments, humans could create a physical manifestation of their existence that would outlast their individual lives. This allowed for a sense of continuity and the ability to leave a lasting mark on the world. Harrison argues that architecture became a way for humans to assert their presence and create a symbolic defense against the inevitability of death. Moreover, Harrison suggests that the invention of architecture gave rise to the concept of the "afterlife." By creating tombs, pyramids, and other burial structures, humans could imagine a realm where the dead continued to exist in some form. These architectural spaces served as a bridge between the world of the living and the world of the dead, providing a sense of connection and continuity. Harrison also argues that architecture played a crucial role in the development of human culture and collective memory. Buildings and monuments became repositories for shared histories, myths, and values. They served as physical anchors for cultural identity and helped to create a sense of belonging and shared purpose among communities. However, Harrison also notes that architecture can have a complex relationship with death. While it can provide a sense of permanence and a symbolic defense against mortality, it can also serve as a reminder of our own impermanence. The ruins of ancient civilizations and the decay of once-great buildings can evoke a sense of melancholy and serve as a testament to the ultimate transience of human existence. Death and Ritual through Architecture Recent archaeological findings have shed light on the potential significance of the alignment of Neolithic dolmens with the summer solstice. These ancient stone structures, found throughout Europe and beyond, have long been shrouded in mystery. However, the precise positioning of these megalithic tombs suggests that they may have played a crucial role in Stone Age rituals related to death, the afterlife, and the cyclical nature of the cosmos. On the day of the summer solstice, when the sun reaches its highest point in the sky and casts its longest rays, a remarkable phenomenon occurs within certain dolmens. The light penetrates through the narrow entrance, illuminating the interior chamber and reaching the furthest recesses of the tomb. This alignment, achieved with great intentionality and skill, has led archaeologists to speculate about the beliefs and practices of the Neolithic people who constructed these monumental structures. One theory suggests that the dolmens served as portals for the souls of the deceased to ascend to the heavenly bodies. The sun, often revered as a divine entity in ancient cultures, may have been seen as the ultimate destination for the spirits of the dead. By aligning the dolmen with the solstice, the Neolithic people perhaps believed that they were creating a direct pathway for the souls to reach the sun and achieve a form of celestial immortality. Another interpretation posits that the solstice alignment was a way to honor and commemorate the dead. The penetrating light, reaching the innermost chamber of the dolmen, could have been seen as a symbolic reunion between the living and the deceased. This annual event may have served as a time for the community to gather, pay respects to their ancestors, and reaffirm the enduring bond between the generations. Furthermore, the cyclical nature of the solstice, marking the longest day of the year and the subsequent return of shorter days, may have held profound symbolic meaning for the Neolithic people. The alignment of the dolmen with this celestial event could have been interpreted as a representation of the cycle of life, death, and rebirth. Just as the sun reaches its peak and then begins its descent, the dolmen's illumination on the solstice may have symbolized the passage from life to death and the promise of eventual renewal. While we may never know with certainty the exact beliefs and rituals associated with the Neolithic dolmens and their solstice alignment, the structures themselves stand as testaments to the ingenuity, astronomical knowledge, and spiritual convictions of our ancient ancestors. The precision and effort required to construct these megalithic tombs and align them with the heavens suggest a deep reverence for the dead and a belief in the interconnectedness of life, death, and the cosmos. The Astronomical Alignment of the Dolmen de Menga and Its Broader Significance The astronomical alignment of the Dolmen de Menga with the summer solstice sunrise is not an isolated phenomenon, but rather part of a larger pattern of archaeoastronomical significance in Neolithic monuments across Europe and beyond. Many megalithic structures, such as Newgrange in Ireland and Maeshowe in Scotland, have been found to have precise alignments with solar and lunar events, suggesting that the ancient builders had a sophisticated understanding of the movements of celestial bodies and incorporated this knowledge into their architectural designs. The alignment of the Dolmen de Menga with the summer solstice sunrise may have held profound symbolic and ritual significance for the Neolithic community that built and used the structure. The solstice, as a moment of transition and renewal in the natural cycle of the year, could have been associated with themes of rebirth, fertility, and the regeneration of life. The penetration of the sun's first rays into the inner chamber of the dolmen on this date may have been seen as a sacred union between the celestial and terrestrial realms, a moment of cosmic alignment and heightened spiritual potency. The incorporation of astronomical alignments into Neolithic monuments across Europe suggests that these ancient societies had a shared cosmological understanding and a deep reverence for the cycles of the sun, moon, and stars. The construction of megalithic structures like the Dolmen de Menga can be seen as an attempt to harmonize human activity with the larger rhythms of the cosmos, creating a sense of unity and connection between people and the natural and celestial worlds they inhabited. Originally these structures were probably lovingly adorned with paint and patterns. This paint was usually made of red ochre and iron oxide.  We know that because the paintings that are left in Iberia are made of these materials and the extremely few neolithic portal tombs that were protected from the elements still have geographic markings.   [caption id="attachment_5367" align="aligncenter" width="715"] Here is me hiking up to look at some iron oxide neolithic paintings[/caption][caption id="attachment_5365" align="aligncenter" width="605"] Here is a little guy made out of iron oxide who is about six thousand years old[/caption][caption id="attachment_5372" align="aligncenter" width="466"] The 4th millennium BC painting inside the Dolmen Anta de Antelas in Iberia[/caption]   Some researchers, such as David Lewis-Williams and Thomas Dowson, have proposed that the geometric patterns and designs found in Neolithic art and architecture may represent the visions experienced by shamans during altered states of consciousness. Other scholars, like Michael Winkelman, argue that shamanism played a crucial role in the development of early human cognition and social organization. According to this theory, the construction of sacred spaces like the Dolmen de Menga may have been closely tied to the practices and beliefs of shaman cults, who served as intermediaries between the physical and spiritual realms. What is Architecture: Why did we invent it? Philosopher, Peter Sloterdijk's theory of spheres, particularly his concept of the first primal globe and its subsequent splitting, offers an intriguing framework for understanding the evolution of human spatial awareness and its manifestations in art and architecture. Sloterdijk's "spherology" posits that human existence is fundamentally about creating and inhabiting spheres - protected, intimate spaces that provide both physical and psychological shelter. The "first primal globe" in his theory refers to the womb, the original protected space that humans experience. According to Sloterdijk, the trauma of birth represents a splitting of this primal sphere, leading humans to constantly seek to recreate similar protective environments throughout their lives and cultures. This concept of sphere-creation and inhabitation can be seen as a driving force behind much of human culture and architecture. Applying this framework to Neolithic architecture like dolmens and portal tombs, we might interpret these structures as attempts to recreate protected, womb-like spaces on a larger scale. These stone structures, with their enclosed spaces and narrow entrances, could be seen as physical manifestations of the desire to recreate the security and intimacy of the "primal sphere" and our universal interaction with it through the archetype of birth. In the Neolithic period, the world was perceived as an undifferentiated sphere, where the sacred and the secular were intimately intertwined. The concept of separate realms for the divine and the mundane had not yet emerged, and the universe was experienced as a single, all-encompassing reality. In this context, the creation of the earliest permanent architecture, such as portal tombs, represents a significant milestone in human history, marking the beginning of a fundamental shift in how humans understood and organized their environment. Portal tombs, also known as dolmens, are among the most enigmatic and captivating architectural structures of the Neolithic era. These megalithic monuments, consisting of large upright stones supporting a massive horizontal capstone, have puzzled and intrigued researchers and visitors alike for centuries. While their exact purpose remains a subject of debate, many scholars believe that portal tombs played a crucial role in the emergence of the concept of sacred space and the demarcation of the secular and the divine. Mircea Eliade. In his seminal work, "The Sacred and the Profane," Eliade argues that the creation of sacred space is a fundamental aspect of human religiosity, serving to distinguish the realm of the divine from the ordinary world of everyday existence. He suggests that the construction of portal tombs and other megalithic structures in the Neolithic period represents an early attempt to create a liminal space between the sacred and the secular, a threshold where humans could encounter the numinous and connect with the spiritual realm. Remember that this was the advent of the most basic technology, or as Slotedijik might label it, anthropotechnics. The idea that sacred and secular space could even be separated was itself a technological invention, or rather made possible because of one. Anthropotechnics refers to the various practices, techniques, and systems humans use to shape, train, and improve themselves. It encompasses the methods by which humans attempt to modify their biological, psychological, and social conditions. The Nature of Architecture and Its Fundamental Role in Human Life Architecture, at its core, is more than merely the design and construction of buildings. It is a profound expression of human creativity, culture, and our relationship with the world around us. Throughout history, scholars and theorists have sought to unravel the fundamental nature of architecture and its impact on the human experience. By examining various theories and perspectives, we can gain a deeper understanding of the role that architecture plays in shaping our lives and the societies in which we live. One of the most influential thinkers to explore the essence of architecture was the philosopher Hannah Arendt. In her work, Arendt emphasized the importance of the built environment in creating a sense of stability, permanence, and shared experience in human life. She argued that architecture serves as a tangible manifestation of the human capacity for creation and the desire to establish a lasting presence in the world. Arendt's ideas highlight the fundamental role that architecture plays in providing a physical framework for human existence. By creating spaces that endure over time, architecture allows us to anchor ourselves in the world and develop a sense of belonging and continuity. It serves as a backdrop against which the drama of human life unfolds, shaping our experiences, memories, and interactions with others. Other theorists, such as Martin Heidegger and Gaston Bachelard, have explored the philosophical and psychological dimensions of architecture. Heidegger, in his essay "Building Dwelling Thinking," argued that the act of building is intimately connected to the human experience of dwelling in the world. He suggested that architecture is not merely a matter of creating functional structures, but rather a means of establishing a meaningful relationship between individuals and their environment. Bachelard, in his book "The Poetics of Space," delved into the emotional and imaginative aspects of architecture. He explored how different spaces, such as homes, attics, and basements, evoke specific feelings and memories, shaping our inner lives and sense of self. Bachelard's ideas highlight the powerful psychological impact that architecture can have on individuals, serving as a catalyst for introspection, creativity, and self-discovery. From a sociological perspective, theorists like Henri Lefebvre and Michel Foucault have examined the ways in which architecture reflects and reinforces power structures and social hierarchies. Lefebvre, in his book "The Production of Space," argued that architecture is not merely a neutral container for human activity, but rather a product of social, political, and economic forces. He suggested that the design and organization of space can perpetuate inequality, segregation, and control, shaping the way individuals and communities interact with one another. Foucault, in his work on disciplinary institutions such as prisons and hospitals, explored how architecture can be used as a tool for surveillance, regulation, and the exercise of power. His ideas highlight the potential for architecture to serve as an instrument of social control, influencing behavior and shaping the lives of those who inhabit or interact with the built environment. By engaging with the diverse theories and perspectives on architecture, we can develop a more nuanced understanding of its role in shaping the human experience. From the philosophical insights of Arendt and Heidegger to the psychological explorations of Bachelard and the sociological critiques of Lefebvre and Foucault, each perspective offers a unique lens through which to examine the essence of architecture and its impact on our lives. As we continue to grapple with the challenges of an increasingly urbanized and globalized world, the study of architecture and its fundamental nature becomes more important than ever. By unlocking the secrets of this ancient and enduring art form, we may find new ways to create spaces that nurture the human spirit, foster connection and belonging, and shape a built environment that truly reflects our highest values and aspirations. Violet's Encounter with the Dolmen It is a common misconception to think of children as blank slates, mere tabula rasas upon which culture and experience inscribe themselves. In truth, children are born with the same primal unconscious that has been part of the human psyche since prehistory. They are simply closer to this wellspring of archetypes, instincts, and imaginative potentials than most adults, who have learned to distance themselves from it through the construction of a rational, bounded ego. While I talked to the archaeologist on site of the Dolmen de Menga, I saw the that these rituals and symbols are still alive in the unconscious of modern children just as they were in the stone age. I looked at the ground to see that Violet was instinctually making a little Dolmen out of dirt. My daughter Violet's recent fear of the dark illustrates this innate connection to the primal unconscious. When she wakes up afraid in the middle of the night, I try to reassure her by explaining that the shadows that loom in the darkness are nothing more than parts of herself that she does not yet know how to understand yet or integrate. They are manifestations of the unknown, the numinous, the archetypal - all those aspects of the psyche that can be terrifying in their raw power and otherness, but that also hold the keys to creativity, transformation, and growth. Violet intuitively understands this link between fear and creativity. She has begun using the very things that frighten her as inspiration for her storytelling and artwork, transmuting her nighttime terrors into imaginative narratives and symbols. This process of turning the raw materials of the unconscious into concrete expressions is a perfect microcosm of the way in which art and architecture have always functioned for humans - as ways of both channeling and containing the primal energies that surge within us. When Violet walked through the Dolmen de Menga and listened to the archaeologist's explanations of how it was built, something in her immediately responded with recognition and understanding. The dolmen's construction - the careful arrangement of massive stones to create an enduring sacred space - made intuitive sense to her in a way that it might not for an adult more removed from the primal architect within. I see this same impulse in Violet whenever we go to the park and she asks me where she can build something that will last forever. Her structures made of sticks and stones by the riverbank, where the groundskeepers will not disturb them, are her way of creating something permanent and visible - her own small monuments to the human drive to make a mark on the world and to shape our environment into a reflection of our inner reality. By exploring the origins of architecture in monuments like the Dolmen de Menga, we can gain insight into the universal human impulse to create meaning, order, and beauty in the built environment. The megalithic structures of the Neolithic period represent some of the earliest and most impressive examples of human creativity and ingenuity applied to the shaping of space and the creation of enduring cultural landmarks. Moreover, studying the astronomical alignments and symbolic significance of ancient monuments can shed light on the fundamental human desire to connect with the larger cosmos and to find our place within the grand cycles of nature and the universe. The incorporation of celestial events into the design and use of structures like the Dolmen de Menga reflects a profound awareness of the interconnectedness of human life with the wider world, a theme that continues to resonate in the art and architecture of cultures throughout history. [caption id="attachment_5361" align="alignnone" width="2560"] Here is my explorer buddy[/caption] Bibliography Arendt, H. (1958). The Human Condition. University of Chicago Press. Bachelard, G. (1994). The Poetics of Space. Beacon Press. Belmonte, J. A., & Hoskin, M. (2002). Reflejo del cosmos: atlas de arqueoastronomía del Mediterráneo antiguo. Equipo Sirius. Criado-Boado, F., & Villoch-Vázquez, V. (2000). Monumentalizing landscape: from present perception to the past meaning of Galician megalithism (north-west Iberian Peninsula). European Journal of Archaeology, 3(2), 188-216. Edinger, E. F. (1984). The Creation of Consciousness: Jung's Myth for Modern Man. Inner City Books. Eliade, M. (1959). The Sacred and the Profane: The Nature of Religion. Harcourt, Brace & World. Foucault, M. (1975). Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison. Vintage Books. Heidegger, M. (1971). Building Dwelling Thinking. In Poetry, Language, Thought. Harper & Row. Jung, C. G. (1968). The Archetypes and the Collective Unconscious. Princeton University Press. Lefebvre, H. (1991). The Production of Space. Blackwell. Lewis-Williams, D., & Dowson, T. A. (1988). The signs of all times: entoptic phenomena in Upper Palaeolithic art. Current Anthropology, 29(2), 201-245. Márquez-Romero, J. E., & Jiménez-Jáimez, V. (2010). Prehistoric Enclosures in Southern Iberia (Andalusia): La Loma Del Real Tesoro (Seville, Spain) and Its Resources. Proceedings of the Prehistoric Society, 76, 357-374. Neumann, E. (1954). The Origins and History of Consciousness. Princeton University Press. Rappenglueck, M. A. (1998). Palaeolithic Shamanistic Cosmography: How Is the Famous Rock Picture in the Shaft of the Lascaux Grotto to be Decoded?. Artepreistorica, 5, 43-75. Ruggles, C. L. (2015). Handbook of Archaeoastronomy and Ethnoastronomy. Springer. Sloterdijk, P. (2011). Bubbles: Spheres Volume I: Microspherology. Semiotext(e). Sloterdijk, P. (2014). Globes: Spheres Volume II: Macrospherology. Semiotext(e). Sloterdijk, P. (2016). Foams: Spheres Volume III: Plural Spherology. Semiotext(e). Turner, V. (1969). The Ritual Process: Structure and Anti-Structure. Aldine Publishing Company. Winkelman, M. (2010). Shamanism: A Biopsychosocial Paradigm of Consciousness and Healing. Praeger. Further Reading: Belmonte, J. A. (1999). Las leyes del cielo: astronomía y civilizaciones antiguas. Temas de Hoy. Bradley, R. (1998). The Significance of Monuments: On the Shaping of Human Experience in Neolithic and Bronze Age Europe. Routledge. Devereux, P. (2001). The Sacred Place: The Ancient Origins of Holy and Mystical Sites. Cassell & Co. Gimbutas, M. (1989). The Language of the Goddess. Harper & Row. Harding, A. F. (2003). European Societies in the Bronze Age. Cambridge University Press. Hoskin, M. (2001). Tombs, Temples and Their Orientations: A New Perspective on Mediterranean Prehistory. Ocarina Books. Ingold, T. (2000). The Perception of the Environment: Essays on Livelihood, Dwelling and Skill. Routledge. Norberg-Schulz, C. (1980). Genius Loci: Towards a Phenomenology of Architecture. Rizzoli. Renfrew, C., & Bahn, P. (2016). Archaeology: Theories, Methods, and Practice. Thames & Hudson. Scarre, C. (2002). Monuments and Landscape in Atlantic Europe: Perception and Society During the Neolithic and Early Bronze Age. Routledge. Sherratt, A. (1995). Instruments of Conversion? The Role of Megaliths in the Mesolithic/Neolithic Transition in Northwest Europe. Oxford Journal of Archaeology, 14(3), 245-260. Tilley, C. (1994). A Phenomenology of Landscape: Places, Paths and Monuments. Berg. Tilley, C. (2010). Interpreting Landscapes: Geologies, Topographies, Identities. Left Coast Press. Twohig, E. S. (1981). The Megalithic Art of Western Europe. Clarendon Press. Watkins, A. (1925). The Old Straight Track: Its Mounds, Beacons, Moats, Sites, and Mark Stones. Methuen. Whittle, A. (1996). Europe in the Neolithic: The Creation of New Worlds. Cambridge University Press. Wilson, P. J. (1988). The Domestication of the Human Species. Yale University Press. Zubrow, E. B. W. (1994). Cognitive Archaeology Reconsidered. In The Ancient Mind: Elements of Cognitive Archaeology. Cambridge University Press. Zvelebil, M. (1986). Hunters in Transition: Mesolithic Societies of Temperate Eurasia and Their Transition to Farming. Cambridge University Press. Zvelebil, M., & Jordan, P. (1999). Hunter-Fisher-Gatherer Ritual Landscapes: Spatial Organisation, Social Structure and Ideology Among Hunter-Gatherers of Northern Europe and Western Siberia. Archaeopress. Website: https://gettherapybirmingham.com/ Check out the youtube: https://youtube.com/@GetTherapyBirmingham Podcast Website: https://gettherapybirmingham.podbean.com/ Podcast Feed: https://feed.podbean.com/GetTherapyBirmingham/feed.xml Taproot Therapy Collective 2025 Shady Crest Drive | Hoover, Alabama 35216 Phone: [phone] Fax: [phone] Email: [e-mail]  

Hey guys, it's Joel, and you're listening to the Taproot Therapy Collective Podcast. Today's article is about the birth of architecture. So I was recently in Spain, I put off travel, um, like the plague, uh, well, not really travel, but vacation time. Um, cause I kind of like what I do. Uh, and it's also more work to leave and come back than it is to not leave. So I don't leave much. And, uh, this was like a trip that had been kicked down the road four years due to two COVIDs and, uh, healthcare emergencies and different things. So we kind of had to do it or lose it. And, um, when I was in, uh, Spain, I drove out to the Dolmen Dominga, which no one else in my, uh, party had any interest in seeing, uh, which is a Neolithic Dolmen. And I took my daughter.

And so I was thinking about that. I was going to talk about that um my daughter violet uh is one of my favorite things she really loves uh adventure time which is this tv show that deals a whole lot with uh like fart jokes and then like mythology and western esoteric magic and if you've got a kid and you've got to get up um at i don't know, like 5 or 6 in the morning. Don't watch Baby Bum. Watch Adventure Time. Like the baby finger, baby finger, where are you? You're not going to get anything out of that but a migraine.

But Adventure Time, which I don't know, maybe one day I'll write an article about that one because I really love that show. But I wasn't expecting to like it as much as I did, and it's something that we share. But The Dolmen really looked a lot like something out of the show adventure time, you know, Violet loves mythology. She loves creepy tombs. She loves the idea of like long dead empires and the princess Violet stories. I tell her at night, there's always like ancient civilizations. They're guessing about, um, you know, what, what they did or why they did something, but they don't quite know. She's sort of interested in those limits of knowledge. And so she thought this thing was

really cool because it is a Dolman as a portal tomb, um, from the megalithic period where people were making giant things out of stone. This one was a lot older than most of the other ones. Like I've been to Stonehenge and other places um and this one was about 6 000 years old which is kind of um you wouldn't i guess i didn't expect one of the older ones to be bigger you would think that architecture you know would have moved um uh slowly or progressively you know you start out building small things maybe were small things and we just don't have them. But one of the oldest domes that we have, the most impressive, the most impressive is, um, it was one of the biggest. Uh, so that means that the giant, you know, eight, nine ton rocks that people had to slowly carve out of a mountain and then,

you know, move somehow without metal tools, um, without, uh, modern ropes that probably had some kind of rope we're pretty wild and so violet going into this thing and touching these you know giant stones and like feeling it was a really neat thing. And what, uh, is sort of interesting is the Dolmen Dominga. It, uh, doesn't face, uh, the summer solstice like a lot of them do. Um, it faces the winter solstice and it does that so that it can face this mountain that looks like a face. And it looks a whole lot like a face. It's not like you kind of have to squint to see it. Like the mountain even has like a face and it looks a whole lot like a face it's like you kind of have to squint to see it like the mountain even has like an adam's apple there's a picture of it on

the blog if you want to check it out but it looks like um like a giant is like sleeping underground and uh it's laying in the ground which another that's like another thing that you would find out of adventure time and so you know the thing about prehistory is we really, we can't know anything about it because, um, it is before written, you know, history is birthed with the invention of writing. And so before that, there is no writing, at least not writing that we can read, you know, there probably were picture symbols, like other things that were, you know, proto writingwriting, but not that we have and not that anyone who was a linguist, modern linguist, would consider a language really. And so a lot of that, you know, everything that

we know is just kind of a guess, but you could guess that these people who go to Iberia and then stay in Iberia for a really long time, which like after having been to Spain, you kind of see why they would stay because like everything in Spain, um, was like fragrant and edible. It was wild. Like, um, you know, there are obviously a lot of olives when they got there, which we think that it probably took them a long time to figure out how to use them. That's probably not why they stayed. That was a byproduct of them staying. But I went on a hike to see some other Neolithic writing that was a lot newer. Because a lot of the sites, like, there's no, like, gate or anything.

You just find a GPS point, you hike across somebody's land, you go to, like, a cave, and you go see it. Again. There's a picture of that on the blog. There's a little guy made out of iron oxide that was inside of a cave that I went into, but, um, real small. I mean, cave is a general, their cave is generous. It was more like a hole, but, um, like on the hike, you know, I picked pink pepper berries, which I guess that's not a local thing, but there was these just fennel everywhere that just smelled wonderful. Having a steak that night, I put some of the pepper berries in my pocket. On the hike, I got some of the wild garlic. It probably wasn't wild. It probably was growing because there had been a house there 100 years ago or something.

I hiked through what was probably, um, the, the homestead at one point. Um, and then, uh, you know, we grilled some of the fennel bulbs, uh, the garlic, um, I found wild sage growing. Um, and it's just like a dry, um, climate with just kind of like sandy soil, um, that not a ton can grow in, but the stuff that grows usually you can eat and you can see really far. It's just a nice place. You could kind of see why they hung out long enough to figure out something like architecture, which probably took a long time to be able to figure out how to do. So this tomb, if you're not familiar, dolmens are portal tombs. So what it is is you get these rocks, you know, some of the ones at this settlement, like the biggest capstone I think was like 180 tons, which is just insane. I mean, you're talking about people, you know, chiseling out an ice cream sandwich style,

shaped, not style, shaped, like piece of rock, basically, by chiseling everything else away. Like there's no way to cut it directly out of the mountain. You have to remove the mountain around it. And then somehow rolling it, carrying it, lifting it up an earthen ramp, you know, digging up these other stones, putting something there and having this, you know, what was probably a pretty sacred space. And to say like, you know, I hear these debates where people are like, are they religious sites or are they, um, like holy spaces or were they practically used for, they used to convey knowledge. And it was like all of it, all of it, like that we didn't have disciplines. They didn't have anything. I

mean, the thing that is so interesting to me about the birth of architecture right is that like when you dig down and you look at that period of history it is like one of the first biggest technologies other than maybe language that like rends the earth apart and makes us different And nothing can ever be put back the way it was before. Because before that, right, before somebody lugged these stones and made these things, I mean, granted, it took lifetimes to do this, probably. It took coordination that no one had ever seen before, that you had classes of people that could chart the sun,

that could measure that with little rocks, that could convey to the leadership why this was something that would entrench the overall power and progress of mankind, who could coordinate, who could, you know, feed the people who were doing this instead of hunting or doing anything else. You know, it was hard work in a time where there wasn't a whole lot of surplus anything. But like once you do that, you know, before that, what humanity is, is nature. I mean, they're walking through nature, you know, maybe there's wood houses that I prop these things up, but if there's a mountain there, right? Like it's there. And if there's a tree there, it's there. And the world is just this

natural thing that I'm encountering as a human, that I'm a part of as a human, that I can't really separate myself from, that I can't really control. You know, the homes that are before this are, you know, maybe you dig down a trench, you put wood over it, but this is just such a temporary little change. And this is a guess. I mean, nothing like that would have lasted. And we have, it does in other parts of the, of Europe. So we know that, you know, people were probably doing that, but like, and I'm not an archeologist, you know, I had a couple of archeology classes. Um, but the, I, we come back on the show it's on to the origin the intersection of like psychotic experience the collective unconscious you know the psychosis and technology you know

technological progress changes what we view as human changes what we view as the world changes the way that we hallucinate changes the way that we create and believe you know changes religion and that these things are like so you know intertwined together in a way that we can see but we can't directly understand you know we can only intuitively understand that maybe that's why i like that so much and when you have somebody who has seen these structures that are basically wood and mud and the earth is going to reclaim it yeah you propped up a lean-to, but you don't really matter. And then all of a sudden, you see in the center of your society that there is a domed thing that can communicate with the heavens, that can predict what the sun is going to do,

because on the day that the sun casts its longest shadow that shadow reaches all the way through the doorway of this thing that is sort of made to look like nature like we couldn't even conceive of a skyscraper or anything that was like Too different from nature at that point we had to put earth on either side of these rounded of these like pointed stones with a flat top to make them more natural to make them more organic to make them more of a dome now all of these things had earth propped up on both sides that probably had grass and trees and um maybe not trees um but like grass and things growing on it and animals walking over it but there was a hole in the middle that went all the way back to a tomb space and at the very back there were bones and there were ancestors there

were people who were put in there who stayed there forever and on the longest day the solstice this thing could predict or was made by people who could predict the stars The light would shine when it's casting its longest ray, when it's closest down to that horizon, all the way back because of the precise measurement so that the sunlight would touch the bones

that were in the back of the dolmen, making this bridge that, you know, again, everything is a supposition. Everything is a guess. We don't know. Made them immortal. Took their soul to the afterlife, you know, reminded them that they were in communication with a bigger world. But when that dome was made, when somebody carved

this thing out of rock that they could look at and they were like, this isn't going away. This is bigger than me. This isn't mud and sticks. And, you know, there were cities of these things. There were, you know, long houses and, but the impermanence of them was something that when you saw a Dolman, you knew that the world was different, that the, the natural space had been forever cut and bifurcated into mankind's claimed space, my tribe's claimed space, and the rest of everything else. If you look at somebody like Iliade Mercha, the comparative religion guy that we talk about a lot,

who studied the aboriginals in Australia and said that religion was about making a center of the world that your existence revolved around, and everything else was not that everything else was chaos and he studied the aborigines that would have i think it's called a genza but it was like uh there's a longer name for it too but it would be either this decorated rock or stick and they'd put it in the middle of where they camped and sometimes if it was the stick version it would hold up the tent that they slept under that they had this the fire under and when it fell in the morning it would tell them where

to go and this Ginza or this ritual stone object was like the center of this nomadic tribe in Australia but if you look at somebody who's doing comparative religion like that, they get it, you know, because this invention of architecture cracked the earth into two halves that weren't neat. They were what mankind could create on the earth. And I'm looking at something that will be around when I die. Not a story, not a painting that might get erased, not a village that may get burned. I'm looking at 180 ton stone that's just one part of a whole lot of other 100 ton stones making this building. And from my perspective as a Neolithic person, that is going to be there forever. I just became like a god. And, you know, the effect that that would have on psychology, the effect that that would have on

your identity within a tribe, um, you just know how this moment all of a sudden separates you from nature and, and almost like pulls you out of the womb of being like an animal to being something else that's aware of your scope and yourself in a way that we couldn't before we could create something like that. We couldn't be. And now we are. And I'm going to read a poem. This is Wallace Stevens. The Anecdote of the Jar.

I placed a jar in Tennessee. And round it was upon a hill. It made the slovenly wilderness surround that hill. The wilderness rose up to it. Andled around no longer wild the jar was round upon the ground and tall and of a port and air and it took dominion everywhere the jar was gray and bare and it did not give of bird or bush like nothing else in tenn You know what a modernist like Wallace is trying to, what Wallace Stevens is trying to say there is like that when you take a unnatural thing into a natural space, all of a sudden everything is unnatural because nature is now only in comparison to this thing. Now the wilderness

raises up to it. The wilderness doesn't just rise. It isn't just there. The jar is reflecting nature and nature is in conversation with this jar that has been put there. Um, they actually made me read this. Uh, it was in the front of my algebra textbook at Swanee, which was called, no calculus, I'm sorry, not algebra. It was called calculus, a liberal art. And it was like about how, you know, everything in math is a series of reference points, like one number without other really numbers doesn't really mean anything. It's only when you bring numbers into relationship to do they exist. But it's a very liberal arts thing to do. Um, and so, you know, before architecture, the world was this undivided, seamless entity with no clear boundaries between, you know,

human and natural environment. And now men feel immortal and the construction of dolmens and other architectural structures shattered this unified perception. And it created this new paradigm where humans would, you you know actively shape and claim portions of the earth it changed nations you know notions of ownership you know built nations and this claiming of space and erecting structures upon it represented a profound psychological shift as humans began to assert their agency and control over their surroundings. I mean, you had to be there for a thousand years before it occurs to you to start even building the structures that can build these structures, the social and political and financial tools to be able to build a dolmen.

And when you look at what that would do to a nomadic tribe's conception of ownership. Like, sure, this land's on it. I'm using it. I've used it for a couple generations. These people are farming. If I build a dolmen, I will be here forever. It can predict the sun. It can predict the moon, things that are eternal. That rift, I think, has these long-lasting implications. And the impact of that on religion was probably very profound.

You know, you have this creation of man-made spaces like dolmens that provide this tangible manifestation of human agency and the ability to shape the world. Now, the world is not something that I have to interact with. It is something that I, the rest of my conversation for the rest of my species existence will be about what I can do to it. Anecdote of the jar. And Robert Pogue Harrison is an author I like. He wrote Dominion of the Dead, which is probably his best book, at least the best book that I've ever read. I haven't read Juvenessence and some of the new ones. But, you know, he explores architecture in that book. And he talks about how architecture marks this shift in human psychology. You know, before architecture, humans lived in a natural world where the natural environment was dominant and death was this ever-present reality. And then the invention of architecture allowed humans to create a sense of permanence and stability in the face of the

transient nature of life. And that isn't just because the building will be around after I die, right? It is because the building is something that is part of my culture and reminding me when I'm a child and I come into the world, I'm not looking at the natural world and saying I'm a part of that. I'm looking at a Corinthian column and saying I'm part of an empire. I'm looking at an Ionic column and saying I'm an Athenian. I'm looking at something when I'm two that was here a hundred years before I was born. And that changes the way that I think of what I am and what I can be and what humanity is and what God is and this huge way that isn't precise or exact but it is profound and you know like

Harrison talks about how you know that idea of architecture and I love the dominion of the dead because it's one incredibly well researched and plausible but two all of its main points are like completely speculative but they don't feel like reaches to me one of those points is that the invention of architecture probably invented the notion of an afterlife because because before i just found myself on this giant ball and i could never explore it i could never understand it some of this is still true. You know, I could never really change it. And then all of a sudden I get to find this thing that I came upon and I get to make it different forever. So why do I have to die? Right? Why do

I have to die? If I can do something that is immortal, maybe I should be immortal. You know, I'm not saying that architecture actually created an afterlife. I'm saying that it made us realize that an afterlife was something that we could think about enough to speculate spiritually and culturally. Harrison, like, there's also, there's a chunk that I think I've used it a couple times in different things, but he talks about how like one of the most unsettling things that you can do to an intuitive is, like, show them, like, a giant crumbling empire building that's just, like, overrun with ivy. Because then they realize that they die. Not only does architecture give us an idea for an afterlife, it also,'re looking at and i definitely have this when i look

at ruins i mean violet shares this you know um with me i think that's why i wanted her to see the dolman like when you see ruins and you realize how small you are and how little you matter and how much you will die in a way that even if you know you're going to die, you know, you walk through Ivy colored, um, you know, columns and cities that are toppled and you really feel death, um, as a reality that is hard to feel, uh, you know, otherwise. And the mountain that this thing faces when you walk out of the Dolmen Dominga, there is that face that I told you about that looks like a sleeping giant. And, you know, maybe they thought it was a dead god. Maybe they thought it was an actual giant. Maybe they just thought that it was symbolic of something that was used in story.

Again, prehistory, like we don't know. But there was lots of little, you know, inscriptions and trinkets and things found all over that mountain. So they think that that probably was a pretty holy place because people were hanging out there enough to drop stuff and write on stuff and what all. But, you know, all of these things, you get into something called archaeoastrology. And a lot of the people in that space are just total cranks. And the other ones are like very serious anthropologists, you know, trying to date their findings by, you know, pulling acid off of rocks and seeing what people ate and whatnot. Some of it gets too granular for me, some of it gets too woo-woo. Fantastical. But they're trying to do math to see like,

what do these things line up with, you know, in the cosmos? What do they line up with, like celestial bodies moving and stars? And then make guesses based on what these people, what their technological ability was and then what their religious capacity was based on those things. And so that's interesting. You know, I've heard a lot of people say, well, you can't really know that even Stonehenge has anything to do with the sun because you could just be off by two inches. And then that would mean the whole, you know, paper this other guy wrote doesn't, you know, doesn't work the math and it doesn't work. And like, yeah, probably like it's probably very easy to get that wrong. But I also think that it's completely crazy to say like they just did it for no reason and they had no knowledge of any kind of astrological movements and no religion. I've also heard people say that paper of like we can never know so we shouldn't think about it and I don't know that

I buy that either. And the other thing is these things were probably painted. There's two dolmens left because remember these things are like you know 2 000 years old like at least and usually way older um so just things don't last you know like the one that i went to the first two stones are probably completely missing we can see where they were carved out but somebody probably just hauled them off to build a castle or something in the medieval period or a well i mean something boring um you know there's carvings that were made in the medieval period or a well. I mean, something boring. You know, there's carvings that were made in the medieval period. The Dolmen Dominga has a well in the very back of it, which is weird. You don't see that much.

But they drilled a very neat hole about the size of a storm drain cover, you know, 20 meters through bedrock, which is hard, with, you know, either other rocks or pieces of deer antler that were sharpened, which is unbelievable but you know that was completely filled in with just junk and the junk was like a lot of it was like medieval roman and then like much more modern than that so they think that just during several eras somebody tried to treasure hunt you know they're like they'll be gold or whatever you know they explored who knows what they found, you know, they're like, there'll be gold or whatever, you know, they explored, who knows what they found. You know, this wasn't a metallurgic culture, there probably wasn't a lot of gold there.

But what we do know, there's two dolmens left in Portugal where you can still see the paint. Because these things were probably painted. This is very rough rock. It's the kind of rock that looks like, I'm not a geologist, but it looks like when you pour concrete and mix it with pebbles and the pieces of other rock are like sticking out of the rock. So it's like very rough. So it has to be painted, you know, you can't, it'd be hard to do a fresco on. But the paintings that we have are like squiggly lines, a lot of geometric patterns, you know, diamonds, squares,

the things you see in other sort of pre-industrial cultures. And we don't know what they mean. They don't really look like a lot of the writings in caves and different things. They look like people or buffalo or sort of animistic shaman spirits where there's a fusion of a man and an animal. You don't see that in the dolmens. You just see these patterns that were supposed to affect some kind of psychological thing and what's interesting to me is that like yes this sort of was this birth of human humanity where all of a sudden we were

realizing we were alive and separate from nature because we could do something that would never go away you know that would have the biggest impact that we could imagine you know once we see it but also um so yeah it's the birth in that sense but then probably like these things were used in some kind of ritual to simulate a birth because you are in this incredibly dark space that's inside of a mountain in the darkness and then you go down a long tunnel from a giant round hole and all of them into sunlight so imagine the effect of that coming out and facing the full moon or facing the sun you know walking towards the sun you know maybe they did that to kings or shamans something we don't know but whatever it was combined with sound and

the geometric patterns i mean this would have been like the most stimulating experience um that you probably could have had in this time without, you know, modern instruments and cell phones and all of the spectacle that we have now. So, you know, going back to we talked about like Peter Sloterdijk before, who basically says that the best way to look at, he's a philosopher, to look at the epics of humans and to understand them is to look at something called what he calls anthropotechnics, which is like how people make culture and technology and progress, that they fuse those things together to create these protective spaces. And Sloterdijk says that originally there's this primal sphere you know of the earth and then we crack it and then we make different tribes and nations and different political affiliations within those nations and families and yeah i'm an american but my people came from sicily and really i'm a

sicilian too and you know that it becomes to where these spheres are competing. And right now we've lost our real sense of meaning because our identity is like foam where it used to be bubbles. So that, you know, spherology that he talks about, about creating and inhabiting spaces. You know, think about this as that first, you know, tomb, yes, but also womb-like space that we made. I don't know. I don't have that much more to say about it. But I do think that this stuff is interesting, and when we think about it, we don't always think about it in that way. Especially not when your archaeology teacher is telling you about which you know, which type of beta acid indicates that people like ate corn in the region, instead of just sort of contemplating the nature of the, um, the gravity of our history. Um, not just like as people or Americans or something, but like as humans and the psychology that changed and how much psychology is

changing now you know like that if you want to talk about how well the last history is moving so fast and you know the speed of technology doubles everything every two years and all of that like yeah okay um but how do you understand that and predict that and interact with that when you're not thinking about anthropology and how much this has happened over history and trying to understand that you know architecture i think is this attempt to order space and make meaning out of it in a way that is useful and a way that is affecting you know both psychologically and practically it allows humans to have effect that's what architecture is and that's why dolmen is so interesting i looked down on the ground when

we were at the dolmen and i noticed that violet was making like a little house out of the dust you know dirt floor and that she had made like a tiny domed thing and that then once she had finished it just because she was nervous and bored she wasn't trying to make a replication of the structure she was in and then afterwards she started to scoop out the inside you know and make this kind of domed sphere and i think these things like we about kids, like they're these blank slates and, you know, well, they're going to get influenced by school or Pokemons or whatever, but really like they're, they're born in touch with these things, um, that we, you know, lose touch, you know, the, the unhealthy parts of culture that we were losing touch with something,

not imprinting anything. And I want to keep my kids in touch with these things, this sense of awe and this sense of intellectual humility. I mean, that's why we talk about the limits of what we can't ever know and do know now when I talk to my kids. And many kids are closer to this wellspring of archetypes and imaginative potentials than most adults. You know, a lot of therapy, a lot of healing is trying to reintroduce those things to people. It's trying to get beyond a rational bounded ego structure and get back into what's under it so that you can remember what the ego was for. It's not that we don't need it. It's not that you can live in nirvana. It's that you have to be in touch with something that is bigger than you to know who you are is one of these tensions. And, you know, I think, you know, my,

my daughter had fear of the dark recently, and I've been taking her to the hammock and like watching the sunset and telling stories and singing songs and like looking at the darkness and talking about my own fear with her. Um, and the kind of things that we see in talking about this idea that the only things that you see in the darkness, um, that scare you are really parts of yourself that you don't know how to deal yet with yet. And that you never really know how to deal with all parts of yourself. Um, but that they are all these things that are a reflection of something that you don't understand that ultimately isn't out there. It's inside of you. Um, and reclaiming those shadows, um, has been something that, um, I've watched empower her, you know, and that, that isn't, uh, you also have to

prepare your kids for practical fears and realities. You know, we do safety planning too. She also knows about stranger danger and all those risks, especially as a, as a girl. Um, I want to make sure that she knows exactly what she deserves and she's able to advocate for herself. Um, and so I don't think you want to teach kids to ever internalize trauma as something that, um, they need to blame themselves for. But when you're looking at fears that are, um, not from a practical thing, fears that come from creativity, fears that come from looking into the woods and seeing strange shapes, what are those shapes? Those are opportunities to know the soul, um, to know, to know, to teach your kids, to know who they are. And I, I watch her understand this connection

between, you know, dream and the unknown and unknown and creativity and use the things that scare her in her stories and in her art. Same thing I do with my patients. And same thing that I aspire to keep better touch with myself. And so I guess I'll leave that there. But, you know, a lot of the things that come up at this point and watching a child see how much of herself is her culture and how much of herself is her world and how much of herself is her ego and how much of herself is something else seemed relevant to this discussion of Neolithic whatever. I'll look for a guest. It's very hard to find somebody who's both interesting and not a crank. All the cranks are very interesting. But we'll see.

Thanks for listening, guys. I hope there's something interesting here. A little bit more gradual information on the blog article. And I'll talk to you soon. Thank you.