Throughout history, many have sought to define the undefinable. The elusive quest for perfection in a world that does not allow for perfection except, perhaps, in an ephemeral way. Can something ever be perfect permanently… or is perfection simply relative to the present conditions and timing? Why do philosophers, and geniuses and others make this arduous and often unsuccessful trek… why do people climb mountains… why do salmon swim upstream… why does a comet comet? why does a plant grow phototrophically towards teh sun… if you have to ask… perhaps you may never understand. And thus, wit this as a back drop, one sets out to try to define PowerHousing.
There is a story of a man who wanted to build a house for himself and his family. He lived in the side of a mountain and the mountain was sloped so he had to build the house on uneven ground. For weeks he collected the finest timber and the finest materials for his house. He honed the woods and the furs and the grasses until they were just right. He prepared the ground and the foundation with love and care until it was just ready for him to begin to build. He spent weeks placing the frame… made of the finest woods and bolsters and buttressed just so…. and covered them with materials to keep out the harsh weather of the mountainside. After weeks and months of labor, he felt that house was complete. He proudly brought his family to see that house and their hearts were filled with joy. Such a labor of love to construct this house. So much preparation, so much planning, so much labor, so much technical execution and in the end… there is stood. The family rejoiced in their new house. As they prepared to move their possessions into to the house a great storm rose up from the other side of the mountain. Gales of unprecedented force howled. Rain fell in torrents that no one had ever seen before… currents of water surged down the mountainside that were uncontrollable. When they awoke the next morning… and went to look.. the house was gone. Destroyed and washed away in the tempest that nature had wrought. The mother and children cried. So beautiful our house… and now gone. The father however did not weep. He tacitly comforted his family and then, without saying even a word… set out into the environment to collect fresh materials for a new house. Perhaps, bigger, better and stronger even than his first masterpiece. He would take the lessons he had learned, and the failures from his first attempt, and make this one even better, stronger, more durable… he would work even more assiduously until his ultimate goal was reached. To construct the ultimate PowerHouse. Would he, or could he ever truly achieve thiis goal is unknown… but the powerhouse is in the quest for the perhaps unattainable perfection that lies just beyond the horizon… just beyond reach and just beyond the perception of the many who are not looking for it. and so.. the legend of the powerhouse was born… and the legend of the powerhouse remains…
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