Mind altering railroad spikes
Looking at the spike that I picked up today I can imagine it new, a dull sandy sheen on its surface and all of its grooves, points and edges freshly forged. In front of me it is rusty, dirty, pocked and blistered because its job is so hard that even though it has to stay still and wait most of the time, when it finally has to perform the stress is so great that no human could imagine it. In a few days, I will build a fire in my forge, heat this bit of steel up to a dull orange and begin to strike it and shape it just to see what comes of it.
Before I can work this something old into a something new, a great deal of careful cleaning and preparation will be required. I will need a bucket of water, my anvil to be strapped down to the large piece of redwood and I'll have to spend some time grinding off all of this debris with my new grinder. This process will endear me to this piece of steel in a way that is so special that it is only ever felt by an artisan in craft. In the end, this piece of steel will have a form to it, or rather a deform to it since I am quite the novice and so I know that I will feel a bit of remorse for a dud, a waste - a failure. The pay for my action, however will be that I am one step closer to my goal of mastery.
Imagining that orange glowing bit of steel, so ready to be shaped I feel a sort of kinship. I, in my training in school and in life on the subjects of philosophy, logic and reason have been worked, I have grown dirty and rusty, I have been de-burred, I have been heated up to a brightly glowing orange heat and been set on the anvil and pounded again and again and again.
Now I feel hot. I am fresh out of school with all the tools I need to become a successful auto technician and I feel so heated and fidgety that spending this time at work and not working on cars is getting to me. I am waiting for the time of my test, waiting for the hammer to strike and the sparks to go flying as I start my long journey to turn into a perfect implement. I want the trial to come and force me to think and act and think again all in one flawless movement that will someday become second nature. This is where I start my road to mastery, out of school and with my own wits to guide me.
I have finally reached a level in trade that has a name, I am a novice but I'm still in a trade. The beard on my face and the hair on my head which now reaches just past my nose have a certain significance to me; it proves that I am a man and though I am still awkward with youth, I am ready for the trials to come.
Before I can work this something old into a something new, a great deal of careful cleaning and preparation will be required. I will need a bucket of water, my anvil to be strapped down to the large piece of redwood and I'll have to spend some time grinding off all of this debris with my new grinder. This process will endear me to this piece of steel in a way that is so special that it is only ever felt by an artisan in craft. In the end, this piece of steel will have a form to it, or rather a deform to it since I am quite the novice and so I know that I will feel a bit of remorse for a dud, a waste - a failure. The pay for my action, however will be that I am one step closer to my goal of mastery.
Imagining that orange glowing bit of steel, so ready to be shaped I feel a sort of kinship. I, in my training in school and in life on the subjects of philosophy, logic and reason have been worked, I have grown dirty and rusty, I have been de-burred, I have been heated up to a brightly glowing orange heat and been set on the anvil and pounded again and again and again.
Now I feel hot. I am fresh out of school with all the tools I need to become a successful auto technician and I feel so heated and fidgety that spending this time at work and not working on cars is getting to me. I am waiting for the time of my test, waiting for the hammer to strike and the sparks to go flying as I start my long journey to turn into a perfect implement. I want the trial to come and force me to think and act and think again all in one flawless movement that will someday become second nature. This is where I start my road to mastery, out of school and with my own wits to guide me.
I have finally reached a level in trade that has a name, I am a novice but I'm still in a trade. The beard on my face and the hair on my head which now reaches just past my nose have a certain significance to me; it proves that I am a man and though I am still awkward with youth, I am ready for the trials to come.