Windchill -30 C. Canada won gold in Olympic hockey this morning, but its just another Sunday. My usual routine on Sunday, my only day off for 7 months of the year, is to make a big elaborate chow, currently jambalaya with chicken, hot sausage and shrimp and as many kinds of peppers as I have, plus celery and onion. Poker tourney at 4, the Sunday 2 Grand on Jokerstars. Those remain constant.
Today I went for the beer run up to Whyte Ave by 112 St. , and my buddy Mridul was working; we often chat about stuff. He is a very bright guy, working on his master's in something erudite, like computer modelling for engineering solutions. He works a few 12 hour shifts slangin booze to keep the food in the fridge.
We didnt talk about hockey at all, for some reason he said something about being a Buddhist and washing in the Ganges River, maybe he is tired of being cold. I countered with my own experience which approached Zen, living in the Manitoba bush in winter in an under-insulated cabin. The daily tasks of feeding wood to the stove, and especially hand-augering a hole in the ice to scoop out water for washing. The ice can get to 3 feet thick in winter, and it takes a good half hour to auger through it. My first time, I tried to go too fast, and got sweaty and almost got pneumonia: sweat in -30 can chill you to the core, and the germs jump in. Eventually I learned to time the turns on the auger handle with my breaths, count of 2 in, count of 2 out, pause. It was instructive, even transformative. I also learned to stop the noise in my head that most people have, the muttered worries and plans.
I think the essence of our conversation was that it would be nice to shut that head noise down, so we can think or not think, at will. Turn off the Twitter of the brain. I bet some great people did that, Einstein, Gandhi, Tesla. That's how they were able to invent, they didnt have all that background chatter, so they were working on a clean page.
I aspire to that, but so far, its just been within my grasp a few times in my life.
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