Zen and the Art of TV Repair

 Yesterday, my father called me a genius.
This was after I fixed the cable on his t.v.

Believe me, I am no genius TV repair gal, but I decided I should roll up my sleeves and try to get the thing going.  I am no techie.  In fact, I generally shun things like this.  My eyes glaze over when I read instruction manuals.  And even yesterday, I didn't really pay any mind to the instructions, I pressed buttons.  Lots of buttons.  I checked wires and cables.  I turned the darn thing on and off and on and off, and guess what--I got it working.  Actually, I did figure out some mystery inner workings of the TV, but it's so deep and complex, I can't describe it here.  Suffice it to say, that it was Zen.

When I told my friend Marcie the story, she said an amazing thing to me.  "These days, it's like we're living out the Swiss Family Robinson."  She meant that we've all become a little more self-reliant and more likely to roll up our sleeves and figure things out.  

I think it's true.

Being a care giver has inspired me to learn loads of new skills.  Yes, I have always been able to cook and clean and shop and order things and chauffeur people around (I actually learned this from my early years as a mother), but now I've learned how to talk with doctors and APRN's and I know all about hemogloben levels, thyroid levels, drug interactions, and what's the difference between a Wheelchair and a Transporter, how to construct a bath bench and why it's important to tighten the brakes on the Rollater.

I've definitely honed new problem solving skills.  But more than this, I have learned patience.  And so when I needed to fix the TV and the cable and get them communicating with one another, I learned something about Zen.  In Robert M. Pirsig's iconic book, he said:

"The Buddha, the Godhead, resides quite as comfortably in the circuits of a digital computer or the gears of a cycle transmission as he does at the top of a mountain or in the petals of a flower."

I believe this is true.

Creative friends, my assignment for you this week is to fix something.  Rather than trying to get this task over with as quickly as possible, I would like you too stay in the here and now as you  take this ordinary "broken" thing--whether it's a computer program, or a tear in a dress, or a mixed-up cable connection--and approach your problem with the soul of patience, and the oneness of the universe.

It's not about the end-game, but rather what you learn from the becoming.

Have a good week, dear friends.

Love,

Jamie