Let’s all focus on my axe. The axe is life. If the axe is dull, life is dull (and more dangerous, and harder work).
But if the axe is sharp, life is good. Trees are felled faster and safer. My chores are done sooner. And life is good.
Then there’s the alternative, found at the other end of that elevator. Spend several minutes trapped in the box while it whisks you from somewhere where life is good to that other place.
That place of stuffed suits, artificial light, flimsy walls, and weak people.
That place where people who could never lift my axe demand to know if I’ve been swinging it fast enough and in the right places. People with clipboards. People with stopwatches. People with rules and quotas. At that end of the elevator, life is not good and my axe is not the solution. They say they admire the view, but they got really unhappy when I discovered that the windows don’t open and used my axe to open one.
I do admit that I hadn’t considered just how far up we were. The window pane sure took a long time to reach the ground, and shattered into pieces so small I couldn’t find any more of them when I got to the ground myself.
People were a tad shocked that I jumped, but I knew I was safe. I had my axe, and nothing bad can happen to me when I have my axe.
So let’s all focus on my axe.
And not on the edicts coming down from the top of the elevator.