little things

Simple joy of a job done well,
Time well spent,
and no harm to others.

As we drove to the lake for the launching of my winter project, we made our way past loud, and shiny chromed motorcycles, as well as carbon fiber and titanium bicycles and their spandex clad riders, rolling thru the beautiful forest.

I've ridden across and up and down this country on a very high end motorcycle.  It was a good experience, but it was an expensive one too.  I put a lot of pollution in the air, used up a few sets of tires and spent resources that took me a long time to earn.  I can't do that anymore, I won't do that anymore.

In the back of my truck was a little red row boat, that cost me about $150 to build, maybe.  Lots of scrap wood in that boat.  Lots of stuff that was just lying around the shop.  Some left over paint and hardware.

In that boat were many very well spent winter months dreaming and scheming and figuring.  Many minutes of pulling a saw, screw a fastener, drawing lines on wood.  Many more hours puzzling over a way to make something fit or how to make it work best.  That was time well spent.  Messing about in or with boats has been some of my best time.

I will put my muscles to use to make this boat move, otherwise I may use the wind and tide.  All of these clean, renewable, sustainable sources of energy, gifts to us in this lifetime.

I can't find my recreation any longer in activities that pollute the planet, and possibly cause the sufferings of others by the machinations of those who would rip apart the earth, refine it and then sell it back to us at a cost so great as to be unmeasurable by us at this moment.

My boat is simple, but good.  I can use it and feel good about the trail it leaves in the water, just borrowing space for a moment and then the wake closes up behind, invisible, unnoticeable.  In time, hopefully many years from now, when I am done with it, it's wood will decay and melt into the earth again leaving little behind.  In the mean time I will pull at the oars, use this body I inhabit for the time, feel my muscles work, feel the sun, smell the forest, the water, hear the birds and frogs and fish jumping and be a part of the world around me, but not be put upon it as a scar or scourge.

When we learn a thing, we then become responsible for that knowledge.  If we know something to be true, but still ignore that truth, then aren't we hurt ourselves as well as others, possibly?  I have learned, and I hope to live responsibly, compassionately, in that knowledge.

Somebody show me a another thing man has created as beautifully smart, clean, and practical as a sailing boat.  Show me something as rewarding as being the captain of ones own ship, upon the water, upon the planet, not taking from the world anything that need harm, and yet receiving such joy, thrill, comfort, adventure, experience, humility, security, peace, perspective, freedom, enlightenment, education, companionship, hope, understanding......

'Simply messing about'

`This has been a wonderful day!' said he, as the Rat shoved off and took to the sculls again. `Do you know, I`ve never been in a boat before in all my life.'

`What?' cried the Rat, open-mouthed: `Never been in a--you never--well I--what have you been doing, then?'

`Is it so nice as all that?' asked the Mole shyly, though he was quite prepared to believe it as he leant back in his seat and surveyed the cushions, the oars, the rowlocks, and all the fascinating fittings, and felt the boat sway lightly under him.

`Nice? It's the ONLY thing,' said the Water Rat solemnly, as he leant forward for his stroke. `Believe me, my young friend, there is NOTHING--absolute nothing--half so much worth doing as simply messing about in boats. Simply messing,' he went on dreamily: `messing--about--in--boats; messing----'

`Look ahead, Rat!' cried the Mole suddenly.

It was too late. The boat struck the bank full tilt. The dreamer, the joyous oarsman, lay on his back at the bottom of the boat, his heels in the air.

`--about in boats--or WITH boats,' the Rat went on composedly, picking himself up with a pleasant laugh. `In or out of 'em, it doesn't matter. Nothing seems really to matter, that's the charm of it. Whether you get away, or whether you don't; whether you arrive at your destination or whether you reach somewhere else, or whether you never get anywhere at all, you're always busy, and you never do anything in particular; and when you've done it there's always something else to do, and you can do it if you like, but you'd much better not. Look here! If you've really nothing else on hand this morning, supposing we drop down the river together, and have a long day of it?'----Kenneth Grahme, "The Wind and the Willows"