A Philosopher’s Adventure #12
Episode #12 - The Snow Might Never Go Away
The Seasons Have An Influence
I write these essays in batches, and I’ve noticed a change in how I watch episodes depending on the season I am watching. During the Winter episodes, I watch for the escape and the cultivation of ideas. In this episode, we watch Martijn add to his solar array, and I take the opportunity to bask in the peace of the journey. The dampened sound of the air as it moves over and into the accumulated snow is its own kind of peace, only to be broken by the crunch of snow underfoot. I always hated that part of winter. It felt slow and was a step-after-step reminder that it was cold and difficult to get places. Just like the lessons of life our brains need to internalize as we sleep, there are the lessons we gain from this story that need time to breathe. This isn’t a complex story with twists and turns. This is a slowing life where the lessons are few and repeated but difficult to master and implement in our own lives. It is helpful, at least for me, to see multiple applications of the same lesson as the seasons change. As the rewards of persistent work show themselves, the teachings are applied again, but with the compound interest of prior effort.
The crane build begins with the construction of two sawhorses. Add them to the list of simple and useful builds. We see the simple drawing Martijn puts together, which acts as a lovely window into the process. Setting the expectation for yourself for what the project should look like. This acts as a guidepost along the way and takes some of the mystery out of the process. There can be trial and error in the angles of cuts or length of cuts, but the opening drawing provides a base where you can build confidence and direction.
The call of the wolves is heard against the backdrop of the hazy Moon, and Martijn feels his heart beating faster. As I watch this series, I feel like I can empathize a connection with most of what I am seeing. The howl of the wolves is something that I have never been able to get into at the same level Martijn shows. The howl of the wolves is near the top of the list of the best “life on the mountain” experiences for Martijn. This is where I find myself happy for the “character” that is Martijn. The human connection is temporarily set aside, and I am happy for the character who gets to experience the moment.
The Life We Want
We are taken to the neighbors’ land, and we get to see a cabin that belongs to someone who lives in the valley, that inherited these buildings. Martijn says the cabins are not special to those who grew up with these buildings. There are limitations in time and money that make it a challenge to keep the cabins habitable. We are here, salivating over what it must be like to live this kind of life while these gifted homes go unused and seemingly unloved. The grass is always greener, but I think a lot of us are guilty of losing sight of the local gifts we have. I grew up in Ventura County and it’s beautiful. It took me into my late 30s to really have that sink in. The point is, I find myself asking the question, how can we prepare ourselves to better recognize the beauty that is around us? It can be people, buildings, parks, nature, etc. The categories for recognition of beauty are many, so how do we cultivate the long-term appreciation of what is close?
Martijn uses the phrase “take it for granted,” and I allude to the same thing in the previous paragraph. We don’t all have the same measure of beauty or importance. As our lives change, so do our priorities. The way we measure changes, and the variables of our lives have their own effect on our measuring sticks. I don’t fault people for losing their beauty and wonder. I think part of that loss is due to the way we have structured society. We are rewarded for narrowing our focus, and no one tells us what the cost could be along the way.
As Old as an Old Vice
Johannes makes an appearance in the fog, and we hear a wonder tale about the legend that surrounds the naming of Martijn’s property: Chiot Dar Loup (Meadow of the Wolf). The story starts at 19:10, I recommend you listen. When I hear the story, I hear the fascinating evolution of human language and storytelling. There are tweaks to words via translation. As we are told the story, we will tell it based on how we heard the legend. Johannes even says, “If I understood it correctly”. The source of this tale was not the originator, so we hear an interpreted copy of a copy. Do we even need to understand the original tale as it was told? There is a tug-o-war in human storytelling for wanting to be true to the tale versus our natural inclination to make alterations. Those changes happen on purpose or from bad short-term memory or smoothing out unpleasant bits for larger audiences. At what point can we embrace the chaos in our own transfer of stories and legends and let the tales of our shared existence travel their own path?
We move back to crane construction, and Martijn uses a vice that is “very old, like 40 years of or something. My Dude, I am over 40 years old. Thanks a lot.
I leave you today with the rising mists of the valley. These are the images we see during this tale that take my creative mind on their own journey. As I said in the opening, this isn’t always about the lessons. This is about escape and giving your mind the freedom to consume or reinforce what it needs to for the next chapter. In this case, I think about these mists and how they would look in a book I am writing. The sounds that go with these mists and the lack of visibility that comes with the grace and flow of the fog. Fog, when trying to travel, can be dangerous. Fog, when used as an insulator, can be transformative.
Thanks for reading, see you next time.
CHR;)
