Compute: (v) to calculate or reckon a figure or amount.
At one time in my life, I took a job that required computer knowledge. I had none. Matter of fact, the whole time I kept that job, I had no real comprehension of how to work it.
What I did was learn what buttons to push, in the sequence necessary to perform tasks. Of course, it sounds ridiculous. I could have read the screen and learned where each strike of the key was taking me and why. But I chose not to.
I became so familiar with the motions and so confident that the computer would be faithful to its own programming that I just kept punching things in order.
Because of that, it appeared I was able to compute.
Matter of fact, one morning a gentleman commented to me “how fast I was” on the apparatus. I didn’t have the heart to tell him that my speed was due to the fact that I didn’t wait for the computer to react–I assumed it would catch up with me.
It always did.
In a day and age when we feel prideful about understanding everything, discussing detail and being able to take things apart and break them down into their singular units, I think sometimes we just have to look at history, spirituality, common sense and fairness–and punch the right buttons in the right order.