Let me digress . . .

When I was very, very young I lived with a Jewish girl in the Haight/Ashbury. Her grandmother had survived Auschwitz. When the camps were liberated, her family in the United States brought her to America – to Los Angeles. It was a very large Jewish family with their roots in Eastern Europe, so, at every opportunity they had big family gatherings, usually organized around sharing an evening meal.

Ya-Ya, the grandmother, seemed perfectly normal and well adjusted once she arrived in LA. She had a small apartment near one of her children. She seldom spoke of her experiences in the concentration camp or the friends and relatives that didn’t survive the horror of those years. All in all, everything considered, she was just a happy, loving, textbook grandmother - with one small, tiny dysfunction.

When every meal ended, without exception, while the family was clearing up the table, and washing and putting away the dishes, grandma stuffed her purse with all the left-overs she could fit in it. For a long time the family simply smiled.

“It’s just YaYa. Isn’t she cute?”

But the behavior continued and Ya-Ya not only filled her purse with food, but if a family member tried to interfere or stop her, she became angry. Not the simple anger that comes from not getting what you want, but the anger that is directed towards a fool trying to interfere with a necessary, life-saving process.

Eventually, her daughter and her sons sat down with her to reason with her.

“Ya-Ya, this is America. You live in Los Angeles now. There are no Nazis. This is a democracy. We have laws, freedom of speech and the right to the ‘life, liberty and pursuit of happiness’. There is no discrimination here based on religion, ethnicity, or political beliefs. You can rest assured that the police will never invade your home. You live in a safe, free, well governed country now.”

The old woman didn’t hesitate for one second before she answered,

“That’s what we believed in Germany before Kristallnacht!”

If we are fortunate enough to have, what we understand to be a comfortable life, we tend to project that comfort, unbroken, into the future.

If we haven’t experienced the reality of ‘living in the moment’ and the truth that ‘there is only change’, we assume that everything will continue, unchanged, as it is.

But it doesn’t.

In one Ukrainian city, on a Friday afternoon, families went to the grocery store and bought their food for the next week. The most unsettling thing that day was that the ground-meat was over-priced and the avocados weren't ripe.

The the next morning, on Saturday, a bombing raid had wiped out most of the city. Half the population were dead, and those that were left were refugees with no food, no shelter, and no place to go.

But what has all of this got to do with daily life here in Yehupetzville?

Well, that brings me to today’s topic

THE ZEN OF KITCHEN RENOVATION

In the winter when we were not working, it was so cold in the house that we spent our time huddled under a thick down comforter.

The shingle roof was nailed to a single piece of plywood. When we looked at the ceiling, we could see the shingle nails sticking through the plywood into the living room.

A few years ago we had a heavy snow fall. Cars couldn’t drive on the street. Downtown commerce was cut off until the snowplows could clear the roads. Some roofs collapsed under the weight of the snow.

As you must be aware, heat rises. Our roof remained snow free because all of the heat in the house was venting out through the single piece of plywood that was our ceiling/roof. While it was the middle of winter everywhere else on Vancouver Island, it was spring on our roof.

Over the next few years, with the help of friends, our own industriousness, and the occasional employment of local craftsmen, we were able to make the house livable. We fixed the septic field. We built a sun room where a poorly built storeroom had collapsed. We installed insulation, triple pane windows, proper doors, and a low energy, high efficiency heating system. The kitchen was the ‘last thing’ we needed to do.

My wife inherited a small amount of money when her parents passed. We decided to use it to remodel the kitchen. Once that was done, our lives would be perfect.

My wife an I live in a small, 800 square foot, 2 room, A-frame on a lake in Western Canada. We bought the house more than 20 years ago for a song. It was falling apart. The septic field had collapsed. There was no insulation and there was no proper heating, but the lake was beautiful, and the price was low.

With that in mind, we hired local contractor to oversee the remodeling while we took it on ourselves to attend to arranging for replacing the kitchen counter-top, replacing the 20 year old refrigerator, and replacing the hood over the stove.

We ordered the stove hood, arranged with a local company to replace the counter-tops, and lastly, we found and ordered a new refrigerator.

The contractor needed a week to do the basic work on the kitchen, so we moved into a motel while that work was completed.

When we got back, this is what we found.

The second room in the house, the main room, is where we normally lived. In the kitchen, we could use the stove, and there was a quarter of a counter-top with the sink and plumbing still working, but we had to move everything from the kitchen cupboards, shelves, etc. and pile it in the main room so the remodeling could continue.

We couldn’t move through the main room anymore. We cleared a few feet out in front of the couch and were able to sit down, but we had to live entirely in the small upstairs loft that was our sleeping area. It was inconvenient, but, since this was ‘the last inconvenience’ we accepted it.

One evening we returned home and were told that the stove-hood had arrived but it was seriously dented in shipment. It was unusable. We had purchased it on-line, and the process of resolving the issue would take days, but everything else seemed settled and moving along, so this issue ‘was the last thing’ that we had to deal with. Fortunately, the on-line company had a local outlet in here Victoria, and they agreed to take the damaged unit back and replace it with a new one. We spent an entire day in the local store but, eventually, all of the paper work was completed, the replacement unit was found, and the new range-hood was loaded into our car.

We got it home and lugged it up into the kitchen. While we were leaning against the kitchen wall panting with exertion, the contractor told us that it was the wrong style of hood.

It couldn’t be installed in ‘our’ kitchen over ‘our’ stove. We had to replace it with a proper model stove-hood. Once again, we called the local outlet and they were very helpful and accommodating.

The process of replacing the old-new stove-hood took a couple of more days, but that was OK because the new-new stove-hood fit perfectly and it was ‘the last thing’ that needed to be done.

The contractor was able to install the new-new stove-hood and we received word that the counter-top people were ready to install the new counter-top.

We had told them that we would rip out the old unit including the old sink and all the plumbing that serviced it. That meant that for two days, we had no place to prepare food, wash dishes, or get water. However, the plumbing for the bathroom worked, so we could ‘make do’ preparing food on the bathroom counter and washing dishes in the bathroom sink. After all, this was ‘the last thing’ that would seriously inconvenience us.

The day finally arrived and the counter-top installers came. They took one look at the installation and told us everything was wrong! The contractor had to rebuild and level the installation area before they could do the install. They turned around, packed up their truck and left.

We were devastated. When we contacted the counter-top people to find out what had happened, they told us they were charging us for wasting their installer’s time by bringing them into an unprepared site and that it would be at least two weeks after we brought the site up to their specifications before they could reschedule the installation. That meant that we had to live out of the bathroom for more than two weeks! But we reasoned, it was ‘the last onerous thing' that needed to be done, and when it was finished, normal life could resume.

So, we hunkered down and prepared to wait out the counter-top.

In the meantime, we received a call that the new refrigerator was ready to deliver. We were ecstatic. At least one thing was moving ahead appropriately. The day arrived, and the fridge folks showed up with with our new fridge. They came up the front stairs and measured the access across the front porch to the kitchen. The head fridge fellow scowled at us and said, “We can’t install the fridge here. There isn’t room to move it across the porch. It won’t fit!”

Oh God, no, not the fridge folks too? We debated and remeasured and pleaded and cajoled – and eventually came to a compromise. If the contractor tore off the siding on the front porch side of the house, the fridge could be moved into the kitchen. Fortunately, one of the jobs that the contractor was undertaking was replacing the 100 year old, rotted siding. So he agreed to move the process ahead and tear off the siding early so the fridge could be installed. It was a major change in plans and everything had to be rescheduled, but it was ‘the last thing’ that need to be done and a minor inconvenience compared to what had gone before.

The contractor tore off the siding. We called the fridge-folks and three weeks later, the fridge arrived. The fridge folks levered it up over the stairs, along the front porch, through the front door, and installed in its new home in our kitchen.

Unfortunately, they told us, the fridge had been dented in transit. They were small dents, but, to be fair, we had purchased a new, pristine, ‘undented’ refrigerator. We called the fridge vendors and they agreed that it was their fault. However, if we didn’t want to have the old-new fridge removed, and wait another month for a new-new fridge to be ordered and delivered, the best they could do was to give us a small refund on the old-new refrigerator.

We told them we would think about it. Ultimately, we decided that since it was almost the ‘last thing’ wrong, we could live with the small dent and settled with the supplier for a discount on the price.

Now the ‘last thing’ that needed to be done was the counter-top installation.

The contractor rebuilt the cabinet where the counter-top was to be installed. We called the counter-top guys and arranged for a new installation date. It involved another two week wait which meant that for another two weeks, we were living out of the bathroom, but, what the heck, this really was ‘the last thing’.

Eventually, it was the date for the counter-top installation and the counter-top coterie arrived. While we held our breath, they re-measured the counter-top location, re-checked the level of the sink frame, re-checked the location of the plumbing connections, and re-checked the fittings for the lovely, antique faucet that we had purchased to go with the new decorator double sink. With a dour, but satisfied look, the head counter-top person told us they could proceed with the installation. Silently, we offered up a prayer of thanks – Finally the 'last task' would be completed.

The installation proceeded flawlessly and we had, what would soon be, a working counter-top sink area.

The plumber quickly and easily installed the new, designer, aged bronze, antique kitchen faucet and turned it on.

Water flew all over the kitchen. Something was seriously wrong! On top of that, the old sink had been a single sink. The new one was a double sink so that we could soak the dishes on one side of the sink and wash them other side. In order for that to happen, the sink spigot had to rotate from side to side over the two sinks. Now, when we tested it, we found it was fixed solidly in place and would not budge. Clearly we had the wrong faucet unit. But we accepted it stoically, after all, this would be ‘the last problem’ that needed fixing before we had a fully functional, useable kitchen.

This meant that for at least another week, we would continue to live out of the bathroom.

My wife and I went over pictures and descriptions hundreds of faucets and faucet designs. We couldn’t understand why our unit wouldn’t rotate. All of the units, including ours claimed to rotate 360 degrees. But, we accepted the situation and found an alternate unit. It wasn’t even close to what my wife wanted, but it was the ‘last thing’ left to settle - and, now, we wanted our lives back more than we wanted a fancy, schmancy faucet unit.

We found an alternative unit on an internet web-supply page and called the plumber up to made sure that it would work. He examined it and told us to order it while he uninstalled the old-new unit and readied it to be returned and replaced with the new-new unit.

In the middle of ordering it, he called us downstairs.

Somehow in disassembling the faucet, he found that the spigot had begin to rotate properly. He reinstalled everything, tested it and the spigot rotated. However, when he turned it on, the faucet leaked every place there was a connection or a moving part. On a hunch, he uninstalled it and re-installed it backwards. The backward installation made no difference to the way the unit looked. It simply meant that you pushed the water tap to turn it on and pulled the tap to turn it off – the opposite of the front-way installation. Viola! No leaking. Aside from the backwards controls, it was perfect. We were more than happy to accept the compromise. We could keep the old-new unit and, thank God, this was definitely ‘the last problem’.

The only thing left was installing the small splash shield and the molding that were to go along the counter-top. This was a little job, but the splash-shield and the molding had to be installed separately from the counter-top unit itself.

My wife and I cleared off the counter-top so that every thing would be perfect for the splash shield folks and waited with bated breath. There was a knock on the door and there they stood, two wonderful men holding the new splash-shield and the two small pieces of molding ready to be installed.

Everything was perfect except that the hole they cut in the splash shield to fit over the electrical box on the wall behind it was the wrong size. It was a mismatch. The splash shield folks said they couldn’t do the installation and they were going to leave. We would be charged for wasting their time, and it would be another couple of weeks before they could reschedule a new install date – which would depend on our fixing the offending electrical wall box.

While I was pleading with them, my wife sneaked into the other room and called the electrician. He agreed to rush over and deal the issue. She told me that help was on the way

I tried to convince the splash-shield duo to wait until the electrician arrived but they declined. They said that they were on a strict schedule and if they could not finish the install in the allotted time, they had to leave and reschedule.

I finally convinced them to install the molding, which could be installed separately from the shield unit, while we waited for the electrician. They agreed to this plan but explained that if the electrician had not arrived by the time the molding was installed, they would leave. We would be charged an extra charge, and we would have to reschedule the splash-shield installation.

Fortunately the electrician arrived before the installers finished the molding installation. It only took a few moments for him to convince them that the hole they had cut was cut incorrectly. They recut the old hole so that it fit properly over the electrical box and the electrician helped them when they had any other issues. In an hour the installation was complete and our new, fantastic, repurposed, renovated kitchen was finished!

There were some small problems, but we weren’t going to ‘look a gift horse in the mouth’ as this point.

And, after all, this was finally 'the last thing' that needed to be done and life would be perfect from now on . . .

There is a Chinese proverb, “Old without wisdom, there is no greater tragedy.”

Because we live ‘in the world’ we can be violently thrown around – by both distressing, and by pleasurable mind states, events, and experiences. The problem is, how do we deal with these influences in a manner that is generous, compassionate, and knowledgeable?

In a cultural environment where we are encouraged to adapt an ‘adversarial’ relationship with every thing in our lives, including with ourselves, making skillful decisions can be difficult, if not, almost impossible. The common resolution is to ‘manipulate externals’, to seek solace and satisfaction by ‘fixing’ what is out there (people, institutions, events, jobs, possessions, etc.). Unfortunately, this tactic almost never works. Most people, in the long run, end up distressed and dissatisfied by the decisions they make and the results that follow.

Let Me Digress

There were two men. The first was an over-weight, unhappy middle aged business man. The second was a financially challenged young man who had finally found a job and, receiving his first pay packet was on the way to pay his back rent and avoid a threatened eviction.

The first man, deciding to take control of his life joins a health club so that he can lose some weight and begin to regain his health. The first day he works out at the club, he over-does everything. He works on the exercise bike, the tread-mill, and lifts weights. The next morning, he is so sore that he can hardly get out of bed and every muscle in his body hurts. On a pain scale that goes from 0 (no pain) to 10 (extreme, unbearable pain), he is a solid 5.

Our second gentleman, on the way to his landlord’s office, is jumped by a pair of thieves . They beat him up and steal the envelope containing all the cash from his first month’s work. He manages to get to back his room and call the police. They tell him there is nothing they can do and since the robbers stole cash, it would be impossible to find them or to recover the money. Sore from the beating and terrified about his future, the young man manages to get to bed and fall asleep.

When he wakes in the morning, his body hurts everywhere from the beating he received. On our 0 to 10 pain scale, he is a solid 5.

Both men are experiencing exactly the same level of physical pain – 5 on the pain scale. But, every twinge of pain reminds our first individual that he has finally taken control of his life and that finally, he is firmly on the path to positive change – the pain exhilarates him. Our second man finds that every twinge of pain reminds him of the impossible situation his life has become and leads him into a fit of depression that includes the possibility of suicide.

The level of pain these two men are experiencing is exactly the same. What is the difference between their responses?

The difference is mind!

We are not buffeted by life. We are buffeted by our responses to life. A victim of the Ukraine bombing raid could engage in resentment, fear, anger and hopelessness, or, they could assess the situation and find a way to help others, find ways of alleviating immediate problems, and find a way to begin rebuilding.

If we wish to escape ineffective, distressing responses to life, we need, first, to understand ourselves.

Abe Burnstick told me, “A wise man doesn’t waste time drawing patterns in the dust.”

'Is that so?’

The Zen master Hakuin was praised by his neighbors as one living a pure life.

A beautiful Japanese girl whose parents owned a food store lived near him. Suddenly, without any warning her parents discovered she was with child.

This made her parents angry. She would not confess who the man was, but after much harassment at last named Hakuin.

In great anger the parents went to the master. ‘Is that so?’ was all he would say.

After the child was born it was brought to Hakuin. By this time he had lost his reputation, which did not trouble him, but he took very good care of the child. He obtained milk from his neighbors and everything else the little one needed.

A year later the girl-mother could stand it no longer. She told her parents the truth — that the real father of the child was a young man who worked in the fish market.

The mother and father of the girl at once went to Hakuin to ask his forgiveness, to apologize at length, and to get the child back again.

Hakuin was willing. In yielding the child, all he said was, ‘Is that so?’

from Zen Flesh, Zen Bones - Paul Reps