Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

This was a book that was on my reading list before I found out it was a required read for black belt grading. Many people either love it or hate it. I fall somewhere in between. Truthfully it's not my favorite book. The story within the story was confusing at times and I found the concepts to be convoluted. And yet as I trudged through the book I found myself rereading many sections for the gems of wisdom discovered along the way. The book was interesting, intriguing, thought provoking and frustrating at the same time. 

I had finished reading this book last year and worked through about half of the assigned questions, so I had a good head start towards finishing this requirement. Getting through the book was actually easier than answering the corresponding questions. Maybe it's because I overthink everything. Many of the questions required digging deep to understand the philosophical meaning and then figure out how to put my thoughts into words. My brain gets a good workout for sure!

The book and remaining questions had been on my radar lately and so I've taken some time this past week to jump back into the assignment. Working through these questions requires a lot of effort and hard work. Definitely some value there. As I researched and worked out answers to a few of the remaining questions I found even more value. There was cohesiveness within the overall concepts as they relate to my journey and my recent struggles.

What effect does peace of mind have on outcomes?

What is the difference between an ego climber and a selfless climber?

What is quality?

The above 3 questions came at just the right time in my journey. As I answered them I had light bulbs of clarity pinging in my head. They have added value to my life and to my training! And I also learned the value in not rushing through things to check a box. If I had read the book and ploughed through the questions as quickly as possible I would have missed some of these nuggets of gold. Their relevance would have been overshadowed by the next shiny thing.

I have posted the following section from the book on my wall as a reminder of the impact this had on me and to embrace the journey: 

Phaedrus wrote a letter from India about a pilgrimage to holy Mount Kailas, the source of the Ganges and the abode of Shiva, high in the Himalayas, in the company of a holy man and his adherents.

He never reached the mountain. After the third day he gave up exhausted, and the pilgrimage went on without him. He said he had the physical strength but that physical strength wasn't enough. He had the intellectual motivation but that wasn't enough either. He didn't think he had been arrogant but thought that he was undertaking the pilgrimage to broaden his experience, to gain understanding of himself. He was trying to use the mountain for his own purposes and the pilgrimage too. He regarded himself as the fixed entity, not the pilgrimage or the mountain, and thus wasn't ready for it. He speculated that the other pilgrims, the ones who reached the mountain, probably sensed the holiness of the mountain so intensely that each footstep was an act of devotion, an act of submission to this holiness. The holiness of the mountain infused into their own spirits enabled them to endure far more than anything he, with his greater physical strength, could take.

To the untrained eye ego-climbing and selfless climbing may appear identical. Both kinds of climbers place one foot in front of the other. Both breathe in and out at the same rate. Both stop when tired. Both go forward when rested. But what a difference! The ego-climber is like an instrument that's out of adjustment. He puts his foot down an instant too soon or too late. He's likely to miss a beautiful passage of sunlight through the trees. He goes on when the sloppiness of his step shows he's tired. He rests at odd times. He looks up the trail trying to see what's ahead even when he knows what's ahead because he just looked a second before. He goes too fast or too slow for the conditions and when he talks his talk is forever about somewhere else, something else. He's here but he's not here. He rejects the here, is unhappy with it, wants to be farther up the trail but when he gets there will be just as unhappy because then it will be "here." What he's looking for, what he wants, is all around him, but he doesn't want that because it is ​all around him. Every step's an effort, both physically and spiritually, because he imagines his goal to be external and distant.

Robert M. Pirsig, Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance

Over and over we are told to focus on the journey and not the destination. It is too easy to loose track of this and individual moments when there is a goal we are reaching for. The goal is merely a compass point to help guide us and provide some direction. If patient, along the way we discover ourselves.