Emulate Martijn [on Merely A Thought Monday]

I have a theory about why so many of us are addicted to Martijn Doolaard’s weekly installments. He’s rebuilding two stone structures, turning them into cabins, on a remote mountainside in the Italian alps. He confirmed my theory this week at the very end of installment 76. Responding to a question from his viewers he said something akin to “I focus on the process and not on goals.”

It’s magnetic. Presence.

Effortless action is a concept in the Buddhist tradition and Martijn is a stellar example. The work is heavy, dirty and sometimes impossible, yet he rarely seems stressed or burdened. He is never in a hurry. He is present in his task. He’s not pushing for an outcome or holding himself to a schedule. He’s creating a process that is as elegant as it is efficient, fully engaging the task at hand. He’s a craftsman from another era. No resistance to “what is”. Consequently, he achieves more in a week than most people realize in a month.

And, amidst the dawn to dusk workdays, he films the process. Beautifully.

His work is his meditation.

Watching him build a stone arch doorway for his utility shed, I had a minor revelation. Most, if not all, spiritual traditions embrace a version of “make no assumptions.” The absence of assumption is presence. The lilies of the field. The release of control. Flow. The path of least resistance. Deal with what is there, not what you think is there.

We watch Martijn because we desire to know what he knows. We desire to work as he works. Why is he never exhausted? How is it possible for him to bake bread over a fire, make beautiful meals, after a full day of digging in rocky soil and hauling impossibly large slabs of stone?

Whether the task is answering 150 emails or lifting a one ton stone from the roof of a shed, his answer is abundantly clear. Make no assumptions. Release the notion of where you should be and be where you are. Beautifully.

read Kerri’s blogpost about NO ASSUMPTIONS

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Eat The Marshmallows [on Merely A Thought Monday]

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I know it’s confusing. In my life there is H, also called Horatio. And then there is H, not Horatio at all, but a 93 year old man who is one of the few elders in my life that did not grow angry with age. H grew sweeter with time, and, therefore, wiser. He is my master teacher in how to age with joy.

I sit next to H in choir. He loves to sing. He has been singing his entire life and, so, he is easy in his voice. Ease of voice. I suspect that’s one of the main reasons he has such ready access to his humor. He isn’t trying to keep his voice down. He’s not editing himself or otherwise tying off his expression. He’s paid attention to keeping his creative channels open and free flowing. He wheels in with his walker, drops his coat, and teeters to-and-fro before dropping into his chair with a giggle. Even sitting down has become an oddity and rather than grouse about it, he smiles. “Made it!” he announces after hitting the chair with a thud.

‘Yes,’ I think to myself, ‘You made it.’ We should all make it like H.

I know H has had tragedy in his life. I know he had and continues to have a hard road. He sings in a church choir but I accuse him of being a secret Buddhist, so joyfully is he participating in the sorrows of the world.

Picasso famously said, “It took me four years to paint like Raphael, but a lifetime to paint like a child.” H has made of his life a great painting that even Picasso would enjoy. He has circled back to the child, the innocent appreciation of the great gift of living.

There are no lines of import in H’s coloring book and he inspires me to take out my great big Jethro Bodine bowl and fill it full with Lucky Charms. Pour the milk! Why wait.

 

read Kerri’s blog post about H

 

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Enjoy The Puddles [it’s Chicken Marsala Monday]

 

todaychickenPRIMARYbox copyenjoy enjoy PRODUCT BOX BAR copy

Puddle is a fun word to say. Try it. Puddle. Muddle. Fuddle. In fact, when fuddled or muddled, there is only one thing to be done and that is to find and jump gleefully into a puddle. Essentially, become puddled.

Chicken has a decidedly Buddhist side. If he had three simple rules for spiritual growth, one would certainly involve puddles and play. Speaking to we too serious adult-types, he might say: you can never control the rain, but you can most certainly control how often you play in the puddles .

On this Chicken Marsala Monday, from studio melange, leave behind your muddle and go to the puddle side of life [begin by reading this post out loud to someone you love – puddles are more fun with friends].

ENJOY THE PUDDLES gifts and cool things to remind you to play

read Kerri’s blog post on ENJOY THE PUDDLES.

www.kerrianddavid.com

enjoy the puddles nugget & designs ©️ 2016/2018 david robinson & kerri sherwood