Author: Philo

human

Happiness Revisited

I.

There is a turkey hen that has shown up on the farm.  She sleeps in front of the hen coop after eating a bit of corn that I throw out every morning for the hens.  She has evidently lost her flock and has taken the hens as her own.  Sleeping on the snow covered ground I look upon her with pity, and I feel sadness.

She’s not hurt, but it is difficult to believe that there is not something awry.  And so I feed the hens and she runs to the back, coming back around when I leave.  I wish her the best, but cannot guarantee anything.

II.

It is cold outside and although the sun shines the temperature reminds everything that winter is upon us.  The summer is a far away memory and the spring is something of an illusion.  Remnants of the fall lay covered in ice and snow.  There is always longing for the spring, and from the spring the summer.

This longing for something in the future is, as Buddhists claim, a cornerstone of suffering, and suffer we must because we are human and that is what we do.  Perhaps the happiness that we seek is the time between what we think and how we feel.

III.

The finish work around the house is coming to an end, and with it the realization that there is more to come.  Just as the destruction of the old to make room for the new happens, the realization that the new will sooner than later become old and the cycle will be repeated.

Living our lives looking for newness is innately a failure as there is simply no such thing.  Life is not new and never has been.  Life is old…very old and those ideas that we would give our lives for are repeated for the sake of the illusion of happiness as they must be.

Be Revolutionary. Be Ethical.

The act of raising animals for food ought to be bucolic; the killing aside the act is truly peaceful if done ethically.  Even the act of killing ought not cause suffering. To live self-sufficiently both acts are necessary; necessary in the case that eating meat is necessary.

The packaged product in grocery stores around the world does not, however, do justice to the corporate acts of greed and malice that cause so much pain and misery to the animals that we eat all the while creating the illusion of peaceful farms on hillsides.

If there were justice in the world, then each and every person who puts a piece of meat in their mouth ought to be walked through a CAFO, a commercial egg production barn or  be a part of raising and  “processing” the commercial meat birds that make up most of our Sunday chicken dinners.

These are not acts of farmers raising animals for food.  Tyson, Purdue and many other “food producers” are liars and snake oil salesmen.  They cause and create pain and misery; they do so in the name of profit and capitalism as do the “farmers” who allow themselves to be slaves to such monsters.

Trying to raise meat chickens, all of this comes to a head when the birds, genetically bred specifically for meat, become ill, cannot grow feathers fast enough to keep up with their ever-growing bodies, and cannot walk because of genetic defects in their legs.

Grow a tomato and start a revolution.

Be as ethical as possible and truly change the world.

But first, we must give up the illusions and the easy answers.

Be revolutionary; be ethical.

 

The Spirit of Work

Cup of coffee in hand and looking out over the fields, it is difficult to muster the motivation to give up the fire and go out to work.  But, as always, there is work.  This is not bad thing, it is just that the grey mornings and rainy weather have a tendency to dampen the spirit of working.

That spirit to work, that drive to do something, something meaningful defines who we are.  Work is neither a right or a bane.  Rather, it is that intentional act to give meaning.  We do not have a right to work, we must simply work in order to have rights.  Work is not a heavy load to bear with a dreary mind, work is what we do no matter our attitude towards it.

There is always work, and work can always wait.  But why?  Why make the meaning in our lives wait for sunny days or better dispositions?  For those who do not understand the spirit of work, we are too busy.  For those who misunderstand the spirit of work, we are not busy enough.

And so the coffee finished and a final log put on the fire, I don the overalls and you (perhaps) don a suit and we both work in the spirit of making meaning in our lives one minute at a time.

Unexpected Places

Happiness from the most unexpected places, even for moments in a day.  There is a certain look in the eyes of creatures that if we learn to read them let us know that we are not the only ones that experience the world in ways that make us wonder.

When I go out to the workshop I must often wander my way through hens running for a snack.  I pet a few as the clucks of anticipation follow me to the barn.  The younger pullets are sometimes like the dog that follows me around the house when I’m in.  Her comfortably perched on my bed after the morning walk.

The cat, not to be left out, nibbles a bit of food and then runs to the door to roll in the dust of the farm; old tree scratching posts and sun spots offering the warmth of the world.

At the corner store.

“I love that smell.”  she says as she hands me my sugar for the bees.

“What smell is that?”  I ask.

“The smell of wood; you’ve been working with wood.”

I nod and tell her that I have and I notice that happiness comes from the most unexpected places.

Simple

Work is not complicated.  Today is not complicated.  We simply must do what must be done.  The morning was started with the dog and evolved to some carpentry.  The sun out, became more beautiful as the day slowly grew.  The wood cut, and lunch.

Out came the chicks; the sun would do them good.  Enjoying the sunny day the chicks played and slept, ate and drank.  Simple times; simple life.

The afternoon started slowly, the tractor in place and the chipper hooked up.  The brush awaited.  The chipper started and the chipping began.  One pile, and then another.  Almost Buddhist in its meditation: the brush goes in and chips come out.

The chips themselves simple in their creation.  They will start as hen house bedding, and the compost and then on into the garden to start the cycle again.  One day growing a tree that will be cut and used, even to its smallest branches.

The piles of chips, sitting in the sunshine, and a shovel.  The old trailer brought to life but first the hitch attached to the tractor.  The work is hard and the day is beautiful: both simple in their very nature.

The trailer full of chips and the stored for the winter.  The day is simple; work is not complicated.  As it should be; as it should be.

 

Finish Work

When all else is done, there is finish work.  The details that make a house a home; it is the same details that make life worth living.  But finish work takes time; there are many pieces to be placed, to be sanded slightly, to be fit snug in their place.

Finish work is quiet and it takes time, most often it takes much more time than we might believe.  But finish work is what we walk into each and every day and each and every time we walk into a room.  It is the finish that we see.

Carpentry is life and the finish work that we begin is reliant upon the work we’ve put into our lives in those years that seem to rush by and at the same time slow to a crawl.  In our youth we build a house, sometimes hurriedly, and when we get older we cannot understand why the base boards don’t miter quite right or why the casing won’t quite meet the wall.

In our age and years of living we can no longer rush but are now slowed by the weight of time and it is then we are faced with the finish work in what we have built.  Bad habits show and new habits form even without our knowing.

But it is in the finish that we learn that good enough is not nearly good enough for the finish work that we have to do.

Thank God It’s Friday

It is difficult to portray true sympathy.  The words fail somehow; they become crass or ridiculous.  Language fails often where thought is concerned.  However, it is important, somehow, to express what we feel; especially to those we care about and perhaps more importantly: to ourselves.

Life, it would seem, is very short and it is difficult to be sympathetic to this when the workday seems so long or the weekend so far off.  This, on the other hand, seems to be a failure of thought but the results are the same:

“hump-day…yay!”

“Thank god it’s Friday!”

It is as if we are wishing parts of our lives away.  But we are unable to be sympathetic to the true consequences of doing so.  Those boring days that we wished away are automatically the subject of longing and desire when we realize, in short and few moments, how short life really is.  Sympathy seems important to remember if we are to understand that a beautiful day or a starry night is…well, miraculous.

But our thoughts cannot contain such grandiose ideas and as a result our language fails.  No matter how much we may love, the word “love” will always fall short.  No matter how much we may seem to care, the word “care” never cuts it.

Philosophers have pondered the concept of time and the only objectively real component of temporal ideas: it is the present.  And so, be sympathetic to the present and what it contains, which is the whole universe; something that we may never come to understand.

Fixing Things

“Fixing things may be a cure for narcissism.” -Shop class as Soulcraft, Mathew Crawford

To be sure, whether this is a moral or factual statement remains to be seen.  In any case it is a meaningful phrase.  The act of fixing things seems to be becoming antiquated: “fix when you can buy” is no longer a question but an exclamation.  This simple grammatical change has moral implications.

As we stare down into the abyss of cellphones, the only time we take our eyes off the virtual keyboard is to look at the battery are “bars” display.  Each telling us just a bit of information and at the same time telling us nothing at all.  We know we need both for our illusion to continue, but we have no idea how these things work.

Our fix for one becomes walking around in circles and our fix for the other is not a fix at all: toss it.

Fixing things, whether that is a house or a machine (or even a farm) is not easier than fixing ourselves, but is better.  Let me explain: the one actually does fix the other but the other can never fix the one.  To fix things, fixes the self.  It must because, as Crawford states, and as anyone who has both fixed things and put thought into fixing things will attest, the self must take a backseat to the material thing.

The material part is important because it is not a part of us; it cares a whit for us; it has no agenda or empathy; it simply is.  This fact is ironically somewhat spiritual in nature.  And when things need fixing there is no room for petty arrogance and ignorance will be paid back in full with pain and frustration.

Fixing things reminds us that we are not the center of the universe, something that most of us need to be reminded of quite often.

Life

Everyone makes mistakes; some bigger and others not so much.  However, as has been mentioned in this blog on previous occasions: mistakes are useful if we learn from them.  That being said, learning from mistakes are rarely enjoyable experiences and perhaps even harder to actually learn from.  I’ve made my share of mistakes and have come up with a three-part plan to deal with the mistakes that are inevitable in our lives.

First…the mistake.

Our societies have somehow made mistakes faux pas’.  Interestingly enough talking to individuals we are given advice on how mistakes are helpful.  This contradiction is perhaps explainable if we do not assume that people know when they’ve made mistakes.  The first step in this three-part plan is to recognize and accept the mistake.  Both actions take concerted efforts on our parts and are not fun.  But, we are here to rectify mistakes!

Secondly… consider how the mistake happened.

Once the mistake is recognized gnashing of teeth and crying of tears will probably ensue.  This is to be expected.  At some point, however, we must begin the learning process and this process begins with understanding the decisions that led to and perhaps continue the mistake itself.  So, between the gnashing and crying take an assessment of your decision-making processes that led you to the point that you are recognizing, i.e. the mistake.  Do this while gnashing and crying perhaps, but do it at any rate.  Perhaps a beverage or two, but not too much as we don’t want to lead ourselves down a path that leads us to even more mistake-making.

Third….what now!?

After the last tear has fallen and the last tooth has been gnashed, a plan is needed.  Take a good and honest look at the situation you find yourself in and ask a simple question: where do you want to be?  Is it another place?  Is it another person?  Is it another philosophy or job? and then start the process of making further mistakes again.  Enjoy the trip and start the three-part process over again.

Have fun and best of luck!

Paying Attention

On a whim, we bought four chicks from a well-known agriculture store to supplement our existing flock.  After a few weeks, we find that we have three roosters and a hen.  Right now they’re cute; they run around playing and chirping, but I know the future for the three little roosters.

That future is a reality for people who have decided to be self-sufficient.  The first lesson to learn is that self-sufficiency is not always bucolic, it is not always so peaceful.  Every day I take the little chicks out of their box in the coop and transfer them to the chicken tractor to enjoy the grass and sunshine.  And all the time, I know that the rooster’s days are numbered.

Last year, I “processed” about sixty five chickens and two pigs.  The killing is not easy, but the passing of the days with the animals was enjoyable.  Don’t let anyone lie to you: animals have a personality and I firmly believe that they smile in their own way.  This does not make my job easier and nor should it.  When it becomes easy to kill or worse, enjoyable, then we as a society have a problem.

This problem shows itself in many ways, often subtle but equally disturbing.  Taking a life, human or otherwise, should never be an act taken lightly, but because we often want easy, it has become just that.  Every morning I take the chicks out, and I let the hens out.  All of them have a limited time on earth and so do we.  Death is inevitable, but it is the time before death that counts.

Maybe we should pay attention to life a bit more and we will finally realize just how precarious it is.