A Philosopher’s Adventure #4
Episode #4 - Small Fixes, Small Prep, Better Future
The cinematic drone openings are transportive. One of the joys of this tale being a weekly story is seeing the colors and the landscape change in as close to real-time as we can for not living there. I see the colors and hear the music, and I ask myself, “Why does my body feel better in this moment?”
I don’t think it is a mystery that we humans, having come from natural beginnings, have some lizard brain activation when the beauty of nature is in front of us. Not to mention, when the rush of life surrounds us, do we see this slower version of living and think about the grass being greener or redder in this case? I don’t think the solution is for all of us to move to the mountains. It’s a hard life, as we will see later in this tale. Finding calm in general terms is the solution. Whatever that calm happens to be for you. Maybe not even calm, but find the center of your internal orbit. The elements that make us who we are and the forces that pull them together. How are they fed? I’m thinking about adrenaline junkies specifically. I think mountain climbers can appreciate the beauty of these opening views, but they want to climb the mountain in the background. That is their center, which needs to be fed more than the chase we find ourselves in most of the time.
I don’t think urbanists are excluded from this either; no one is. We all have a center, and should we be privileged enough to have agency over that center, feed it, hold its hand and guide one another as we find our way in this world.
Small Fixes
The roof is leaking, and watching the solution process is a great lesson. Small things like feeling the wood has softened due to regular leaking in every storm. There is a testing of the wet floor. The reason is not as crucial as the curiosity. Martijn is probably checking for softness, but the point is that all the data points are being considered. This is being in the moment and looking at everything involved in the problem. We can see from the inside that there is no way he can plug all the holes, but he can plug this hole. This requires going on the roof and altering stone placement to ease the problem.
A minor fix makes things better until the real solution of replacing the roof can be completed.
Problems like these are entertaining because the reward for the effort is tangible. When I had problems in my corporate life that needed solving, the solution was not always evident. A name was removed from a report, so no one was asking any questions. That’s progress in the corporate world. Maybe a report could be run more efficiently for someone else in the department. Still, they may not know who made the change, and the new, more accessible reports get folded into the process so quickly that the sense of achievement and remembering that achievement is lost to the relentless demand for profit.
Preparation is its Own Reward
Continuing the theme of preparation, firewood must be collected for the coming winter. What I love about the caption that comes with this section of the video is the idea that he is “getting started….for winters to come”. To me, this feels like such an optimistic statement. This is action and future thinking all rolled into one. How often do I think like that, and why don’t I think like that? Maybe that is why I like game design and writing so much. The act of doing is its own action, but planning goes with both activities. I ultimately ran into a problem with the payoff. For Martijn, the payoff will be a fire to keep him warm. I had not yet defined the phases of my reward. That makes the activities challenging to sustain. At some point, I hope the writing wheel has spun up enough that its motivation is self-sustaining. For now, I have my week-to-week plans, and I’ve built up the creative energy to get me started again.
An Opening to Unknown Skills
Martijn starts work on the door in the larger cabin, and I like this story. There are moments in life when you can be a perfectionist. In this case, Martijn is trying to get a good fit of a wooden door in a stone doorway. It still feels like this story is at the stage where the function is good enough, and perfection isn’t required. But this is a stone door, and the cabin needs to be secure while he is gone for an extended period. The second part of the story I enjoy is the process we get to see where he scores the stone and hammers out the pieces. I love anything where we get to know the process. Witnessing the process makes the end product feel like it was earned. It removes the “how” and enables the audience to feel like they could do something similar. “Oh, this isn’t that scary.”
This lifestyle is about the willingness to take the time. We are programmed to chase what we’re told to chase for a long time. Then, at some point, we see what we really want, but we are too familiar with the sunk cost of everything we’ve learned along the way. We are not equipped and possibly too scared to take the steps that would move us back toward the life we really want.
Odds and Ends
At the 11-minute mark, Martijn uses a table grinder, and the table starts to move back and forth. OSHA will not look kindly at this moment, but I love the function vs. perfection at this moment. A table that fulfills its function is perfect. I’ve never subscribed to a perfection model, but I see what perfectionism can do to people and their stress levels. If you are moving toward the life you want, the tools we use to get there can be perfected later. Maybe we will learn that the tools (and ourselves) are perfect the way we are.
The door is finished, and Martijn shows us the key being added to his key ring. I love the awareness, the story, and the message this sends. We would want to see this moment as an audience, and Martijn lets us in on the moment. Knowing what the moment feels like when someone gives you the keys to a new home or apartment, I feel transported to a place where emotion can soak in that feeling once more. This is storytelling and transporting your audience in subtle ways that I truly enjoy in this journey.
We go on a field trip to Johannes’ house for a chat and a pizza. The pizza is so cute, and the value of friendship is on display. The shared interest and conversation feel like home in a way that only the bonds of our choosing can offer. Before going to the Outro, we see the beautiful Chapel Johannes built. The background music Martijn picked for the edit is perfect. Listening to Johannes tell the story is fascinating, and the meaning to him is on full display. We don’t have to share the same beliefs to appreciate that which is meant to give peace to those looking for it in the places they are looking.
Outro
During his outro, Martijn talked about a windstorm that comes through the valley and takes away all the leaves. He then refers to the valley as “a painting that’s changed.” It is a beautiful way to put the backdrop of his homestead and an excellent way to think about where one lives. I live in an area with the ocean on one side and a coastal range on the other. Taking the time to look around and see what the backdrop has to offer and notice how it changes feels like a tool we can use to be present and connected to the world around us. Even if the concrete of modern society dominates your surroundings, that creates a bland palate where the colors of life and the cycles of change are made more visible.
Finally, as I watch Martijn in these final moments, he displays a giddy energy as he looks around. I’m happy for him and the place in the world he has landed. We should all be given the opportunity to find our place in the world. Martijn seems to have found that place, and the potential is more than his calm demeanor can contain. That’s lovely.
Thanks for reading, see you next time.
CHR;)