Chop Wood, Carry Water…

There is an old zen story about a man, who had to chop wood and carry water, and it was such a burden.  Then, he became Enlightened.  After Enlightenment, he still had to chop wood and carry water… and while he was doing the exact same thing, his perspective was totally different, it wasn’t a burden at all, it was a beautiful part of life.

Whatever we do in life, it doesn’t much matter, it is the state of mind that we do it in, that matters.

The parable means to tell us that physical circumstances may not change all that much for us, on the pathway to Enlightenment, but our perspective may change immeasurably.   I’m not Enlightened, but it seems that I have been the happiest in life, when my circumstances were the simplest, most rudimentary, most basic.

I had a scholarship to attend college, and they gave me all my financial aid at the start of the year.  Invariably, by the time the last quarter rolled around, I had no money left, and could work no more work-study hours for the school.  So, in order to eat, I would sell my blood plasma two or three times a week to the local clinic for $8 a pint.  With that, I’d buy a big bag of rice and some simple vegetables.

To supplement my meager diet, I’d take my Hawaiian sling spear down to the beach and prowl the kelp beds off shore for sea bass or rock cod.  I was a pretty successful hunter.  If I caught more fish than I could eat, I’d feed my friends and roommates, with a promise they’d have me for dinner one night that week as well.  Such simple, honest fare was not only good for the body, but good for the soul too.

Before Enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.  After Enlightenment, chop wood, carry water.

I live simply today, but I do not have to chop wood.  Though, I have been gazing adoringly upon these small cast iron wood stoves made just for small boats, but I haven’t taken the plunge yet.

However, I do have to carry water. During winter time, in the North East, they turn the water off to the docks, so that the pipes do not freeze.  My boat has 70 gallons of water storage, divided between two tanks.  I drink and cook with bottled water mostly, and use the water in the tank for washing dishes and cleaning up.  We’re so used to turning a tap and having an infinite supply of water at our finger tips, and so it was a bit of a shock to step on the foot pump to my galley sink and hear the pump coughing up air.

The nearest faucet is in the marina’s laundry room a few hundred yards a way.  So, I drag a five gallon ‘jerry can’ up to the showers with me, and fill it in the laundry room on the way back.  Full, the can weighs a little over 40lbs and gives your finger muscles a good work out.  It would take seven trips to fill one of the tanks, but I’ll only make one or two trips.  Then, monitor how quickly I use it up again.  It causes me to be very mindful of my water consumption!  I figure if I’m conservative, and make one trip a week, I can keep things going.

I don’t think I’m experiencing the sort of bliss with this chore, that Enlightenment would bring.  But it does seem to connect me to a vital, basic part of life, collecting water, that I would otherwise take for granted.