Satisfaction in small things

Sarah Whittam wipes down the wood panelling and ceilings, intent on YPR; our local public radio station. Sarah is our youngest crewmember at twenty-two and has the sharpest humor and cleverness. She and Alison have been working on wire seizings all week and would come tumbling into the galley with cold fingers and a hilarity that grew to be their trademark survival skill. There are definitely some seeming endless tasks that seem to break down the joy of working. When I worked on Liberty Clipper this winter, I would fall into bed at night, full of frustration at what seemed like the futility of my hard work. Sanding and painting the hull only to have the epoxy paint not set. Good grief! Once I got tired enough, I began to think about nothing but the task at hand and in a sense, I shrunk to an element in which I could be happy in the smallness of my work. I felt so satisfied with the gloss of well done varnish, the lead of a line or the wicked tight seizing I had just made. Truly though, in retrospect, the satisfaction of small things done well is a wholesome pleasure and such craftsmanship is appreciated the world over. Why else would we adore the Shakers, who virtually built sustainable communities out of cupboards? Or the delight of perfect short poems?

Ben just came down for some tea. He has been scraping varnish off of something aft; scraping varnish with a razor blade. I smiled piously and said: “Well, there is satisfaction with small things done well.” He just looked at me and said; “It's not a small thing, and I'm doing it with a RAZOR BLADE!” Okay then, perhaps the zen satisfaction can only be truly appreciated AFTER the fact.