I flip the big switch on the arc welder and it hums to life, generating 65 amps of current for all my welding needs. One cable comes out of the unit and clamps onto the piece - a 4 by 6 gate that is my first welding project. This cable is the ground wire, ready to carry the electrical current away from the piece. The other cable ends in a big insulated spring clip that holds the rod I use to weld. I have a long steel rod clamped and ready to go, about 12 inches long with a green coating to keep the weld from oxidizing as I go along. I flip my super dark visor down to protect my eyes from the intense UV light generated while welding, and pull on a large pair of heavy leather gloves.
I strike an arc - touching the rod to the workpiece to start the electricity flowing through - and begin to form a small puddle of molten steel about the size of a dime. Moving along the seam I continue to slowly swirl the pool as I advance forward, melting the next eighth of an inch while the tail end of the pool solidifies behind me. It's a bit of a trick to keep the rod from sticking to the piece, not burn a hole all the way through my steel tubing, and to really melt both sides of the seam I'm trying to join so as to get a strong connection. I'm certainly an amateur, but this weld is going to come out fine.
My hands are shaking a bit, and I wonder if that is from too much concentration and tightening of my muscles. I think about carrying five gallon buckets of water last night to irrigate some young oak trees on the Stanford campus - maybe my arms are just tired. Maybe I have the same shakes that my grandfather had for most of the time I can remember. He had mild shakes that come with hands anxious to do work - fidgeting, rubbing together, tapping, playing with whatever is at hand while looking for the next useful task to do. Practictioners of medicine sometimes call them "essential tremors" if you shake and there is no particular cause that they can pinpoint (Parkinsons, some kind of epilepsy or palsy, etc.). I think my grandfather had essential tremors of a different kind. He had the kind that came with the inertia to stay in motion his whole life, and define himself as being useful. Perhaps when he came all the way to rest is when he gave up on living.
I think I understand his identification with being useful - it's certainly a significant motivator in my own life. I like to stay in motion, doing and building and dancing and running around and cleaning and secretly taking care of little things that make life wonderful. I like to plant and water trees, weld gates, dig big holes, bike up mountains, watch bamboo grow, clean my room, remind my friends that they are great, and cook spicy food. I want to go through my life taking care of other people. I think it's a worthy cause. In world where everything in our culture seems to be going faster and with less direction all the time, I enjoy slowing down to appreciate the view and help out my fellow travelers on this journey.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
Monday, May 29, 2006
Security and the Good Life
I think a lot about security. I'm 28 years old, and graduated from college with a degree in East Asian Studies froma big university. The feeling I got from my teachers, parents, and peers is that I would inevitably "go on" in life to do something great and exciting - start my own business, make lots of money, write a book that sold lots of copies, do some exciting research in a field like medicine, or some other equally notable life path. I have the background that is supposedly the top of the global pyramid of inequality in which we all live. I'm a college-educated, white male in early 21st century America. I'm supposed to make use of the gifts that I have been given in my genes and upbringing to make some mark in the world.
How does this relate to security? I think most of us college-educated young white Americans are aiming to convert our priveleged backgrounds into security for our lives and those of our children. We get higher paying jobs and save up money for big houses, vacations, college costs for our kids, cars, and many other things. In living this lifestyle, we compete with others to advance our self-interests, leaving others behind who can't (for many reasons) achieve the same level of success in these endeavors. We take our money and build large homes with lots of space for each member of our family. We drive as nice a car as we can afford. We do what needs to be done at work to prove that we are worth the money we get paid and hopefully more in the future. We worry about whether we're getting paid enough, or how we might get paid more, or how we can get the best deals with our money to get more while paying less. Sometimes we give a small amount of money at church, or donate some to a charity whose work we respect. We try to save up for retirement in our IRA, pension accounts, or investing in real property. We buy insurance for our cars, our houses, and our lives. We save what we can now so that we have cushions for the rougher times that may lie ahead (two kids in college at once, unforeseen illness, or sudden loss of our job). I feel like these are the terms of our lives in modern American culture.
What does this have to do with security? It's one way of approaching security in our lives. If we save up money, then we can take care of ourselves in the future. We spend so much time, however, working at our jobs and trying to get as much as we can while paying as little as possible that we become involved in a cycle of life where we distance ourselves from the people and environment that surrounds us. If we work 9 to 10 hours a day, we don't get to see our families very much. We rarely ask to cut back to part-time work just to hang out with our kids in the afternoons during their summer vacation. If there is one promotion available at work, we compete to get it with friends. We don't generally share the extra wealth with the woman in the next office just because she's really nice and works as hard as we do. We book vacations at places that are prohibitively expensive to people who make less money than us, showing that we can afford the good things in life. We rarely take the poor family down the street to Cabo San Lucas even though they're nice folks we've known a long time.
The themes are about competition and scarce resources. We're competing more and more with a greater number of people for nearly everything in the world. It is difficult at best to feel connected to the people around us when so much of our lives is steeped in competition and saving up money. We're aiming to achieve a high degree of security by out-competing those around us, but I think the cost in social and emotional well-being is tremendously high, for ourselves and our society.
I've really enjoyed exploring the idea of building social capital in my life rather than financial capital. I like volunteering (as I think most people do) because I get to give my life away to help out other people. I like working with people where the bottom line is not how much we earn but how much satisfaction we get in our work. I like the idea of taking the huge resource that is my life and giving it back to my friends and family in the form of making myself available to them. I can help one friend build a house, help another through a crisis, talk with another about how to build a community, help a stranger fix his bike on the roadside, or give someone I meet at a party tips on swimming even though I've just met them. I love giving my life away.
I think that as we give our lives to each other, we build a sense of connection that is more satisfying, longer-lasting, and deeper than relationships based on money. We want to help other people because we know their lives are like ours. Other people want to help us for the same reasons. By sharing, teaching, and being kind to each other, we create good feelings that turn into more ways to help each other have good lives.
How does this relate to security? I think most of us college-educated young white Americans are aiming to convert our priveleged backgrounds into security for our lives and those of our children. We get higher paying jobs and save up money for big houses, vacations, college costs for our kids, cars, and many other things. In living this lifestyle, we compete with others to advance our self-interests, leaving others behind who can't (for many reasons) achieve the same level of success in these endeavors. We take our money and build large homes with lots of space for each member of our family. We drive as nice a car as we can afford. We do what needs to be done at work to prove that we are worth the money we get paid and hopefully more in the future. We worry about whether we're getting paid enough, or how we might get paid more, or how we can get the best deals with our money to get more while paying less. Sometimes we give a small amount of money at church, or donate some to a charity whose work we respect. We try to save up for retirement in our IRA, pension accounts, or investing in real property. We buy insurance for our cars, our houses, and our lives. We save what we can now so that we have cushions for the rougher times that may lie ahead (two kids in college at once, unforeseen illness, or sudden loss of our job). I feel like these are the terms of our lives in modern American culture.
What does this have to do with security? It's one way of approaching security in our lives. If we save up money, then we can take care of ourselves in the future. We spend so much time, however, working at our jobs and trying to get as much as we can while paying as little as possible that we become involved in a cycle of life where we distance ourselves from the people and environment that surrounds us. If we work 9 to 10 hours a day, we don't get to see our families very much. We rarely ask to cut back to part-time work just to hang out with our kids in the afternoons during their summer vacation. If there is one promotion available at work, we compete to get it with friends. We don't generally share the extra wealth with the woman in the next office just because she's really nice and works as hard as we do. We book vacations at places that are prohibitively expensive to people who make less money than us, showing that we can afford the good things in life. We rarely take the poor family down the street to Cabo San Lucas even though they're nice folks we've known a long time.
The themes are about competition and scarce resources. We're competing more and more with a greater number of people for nearly everything in the world. It is difficult at best to feel connected to the people around us when so much of our lives is steeped in competition and saving up money. We're aiming to achieve a high degree of security by out-competing those around us, but I think the cost in social and emotional well-being is tremendously high, for ourselves and our society.
I've really enjoyed exploring the idea of building social capital in my life rather than financial capital. I like volunteering (as I think most people do) because I get to give my life away to help out other people. I like working with people where the bottom line is not how much we earn but how much satisfaction we get in our work. I like the idea of taking the huge resource that is my life and giving it back to my friends and family in the form of making myself available to them. I can help one friend build a house, help another through a crisis, talk with another about how to build a community, help a stranger fix his bike on the roadside, or give someone I meet at a party tips on swimming even though I've just met them. I love giving my life away.
I think that as we give our lives to each other, we build a sense of connection that is more satisfying, longer-lasting, and deeper than relationships based on money. We want to help other people because we know their lives are like ours. Other people want to help us for the same reasons. By sharing, teaching, and being kind to each other, we create good feelings that turn into more ways to help each other have good lives.
Sunday, May 28, 2006
watching the bamboo
I was walking through the redwoods today with some friends, thinking about all our different life paths. I have friends who are big-time consultants in Washington D.C., friends who travel all over the world often and easily, friends who bike everywhere, friends who walk everywhere barefoot, friends who get arrested at big protests in big cities, friends who (like me) don't know what they want at all, and friends who seem to have all the answers and not so many questions in life. I think about all these differences, and all the infinite facets of each of our lives that makes us each unique. How can I bridge them to help myself and others to grow and change? Where is our common ground? I know it and feel it, though it sometimes seems elusive.
I was practicing tai chi in the street this evening, near my place in Palo Alto. The street is blocked to traffic at one end of the block, so there are no cars passing through. Children often gather in the evening to play basketball at some backboards that the neighbors have put out. It is a vibrant scene, full of warm energy and calm easing of the tensions of the day.
I have been practicing there sporadically in the evenings for the past four years, with some shamefully long periods in recent months with no practice. The regulars who walk the neighborhood know my figure with slowly circling hands and twisting torso. The children were shy and kept their distance at first, but now feel comfortable being within 20 or 30 feet of me while I practice my 30-minute form. This evening I delighted in seeing the children play tag and cooperate to establish good rules and an inclusive atmosphere. I felt in harmony with my surroundings, and enjoyed hearing the wind rustle through the bamboo and ash tree leaves that overhang the street near my spot.
As I was walking back to my house, a woman named Linda stopped me and inquired about my practice. She turned out to be a student of the same school as I, and has seen me a few times before in the street. She commended me on my courage to practice in front of the children, with all their noise and distractions. I told her that I enjoy being a part of the regular routine of life, not being an anomaly but rather an integrated part of a dynamic scene. She smiled and told me that at one point the children's play consisted of doing pretty accurate imitations of my movements while I was facing away from them. I thought that was pretty amazing on their part, having never spoken with them at any length about the hows and whys of tai chi. I told Linda that in the past in China, tai chi had traditionally been handed down not by explicit teaching but rather by imitation and persistance. Practitioners would do their forms in a regular place, and those who came regularly for many years to imitate them would eventually be graced with tutoring in how to improve their own practice from the master. I smiled at the thought of representing such a cultural tradition on a tiny scale in Palo Alto, even if only in some children's play.
I'm working on being patient in my life, looking for opportunities to teach and learn. I'm learning to be flexible like the bamboo that sways deeply in the wind but is strong enough to make tools, cutting boards, houses, and roofs. I'm wondering how to reach the children in the street and nurture their curiosity. I'm learning how to keep courage to maintain all the good practices in my life. I'm learning slowly how to lead a satisfying life.
I was practicing tai chi in the street this evening, near my place in Palo Alto. The street is blocked to traffic at one end of the block, so there are no cars passing through. Children often gather in the evening to play basketball at some backboards that the neighbors have put out. It is a vibrant scene, full of warm energy and calm easing of the tensions of the day.
I have been practicing there sporadically in the evenings for the past four years, with some shamefully long periods in recent months with no practice. The regulars who walk the neighborhood know my figure with slowly circling hands and twisting torso. The children were shy and kept their distance at first, but now feel comfortable being within 20 or 30 feet of me while I practice my 30-minute form. This evening I delighted in seeing the children play tag and cooperate to establish good rules and an inclusive atmosphere. I felt in harmony with my surroundings, and enjoyed hearing the wind rustle through the bamboo and ash tree leaves that overhang the street near my spot.
As I was walking back to my house, a woman named Linda stopped me and inquired about my practice. She turned out to be a student of the same school as I, and has seen me a few times before in the street. She commended me on my courage to practice in front of the children, with all their noise and distractions. I told her that I enjoy being a part of the regular routine of life, not being an anomaly but rather an integrated part of a dynamic scene. She smiled and told me that at one point the children's play consisted of doing pretty accurate imitations of my movements while I was facing away from them. I thought that was pretty amazing on their part, having never spoken with them at any length about the hows and whys of tai chi. I told Linda that in the past in China, tai chi had traditionally been handed down not by explicit teaching but rather by imitation and persistance. Practitioners would do their forms in a regular place, and those who came regularly for many years to imitate them would eventually be graced with tutoring in how to improve their own practice from the master. I smiled at the thought of representing such a cultural tradition on a tiny scale in Palo Alto, even if only in some children's play.
I'm working on being patient in my life, looking for opportunities to teach and learn. I'm learning to be flexible like the bamboo that sways deeply in the wind but is strong enough to make tools, cutting boards, houses, and roofs. I'm wondering how to reach the children in the street and nurture their curiosity. I'm learning how to keep courage to maintain all the good practices in my life. I'm learning slowly how to lead a satisfying life.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)