Posts Tagged ‘endorphins’
Strenuous Fun
I worked almost exclusively on covering the exposed edge of another 35 yards of asphalt yesterday. It is some hard labor but it is a labor of great satisfaction. While I was toiling away, it occurred to me that this job is getting a level of attention to detail that is totally unmatched had we paid to have it done by the paving crew.
Not that I wouldn’t have preferred to have someone else do all the finishing work but it wasn’t in our budget. That’s not an isolated incident around our place. You may recall we hired a couple of professional tree trimmers to trim and fell a day’s worth of trees but had them leave everything lay where it landed for us to deal with later.
The miser in me is inclined to dodge an expense for services if I can do the work myself. I rarely get things done promptly, but I tend to focus on the money I didn’t spend, not the time it takes me to complete the work.
Speaking of the time I spend on things, I had an insight yesterday that the satisfaction I was getting out of the gravel work could be compared to my slow shaping of an artistic piece of wood sculpture. I’m crafting an outcome that I want to look good and fulfill its function even better.
Framing it like that might be a way to justify my tedious pace of progress, but it works for me because I’m getting a similar joy from the results. There are endorphins to be had by accomplishing the progress of each additional length.
I felt like I was doing twice the work yesterday because I needed to dig up and move gravel from places where there was surplus to areas that didn’t have enough. Digging up the gravel is strenuous work but it is oh so fun to pour it out on the spots that didn’t have enough.
We had some wonderful downpours of rain last night that will help settle the most recently tended lengths and will also soften the gravel to be raked up over the asphalt edge where we will be working next. Cyndie is coming home today, so I’m looking forward to having her contributions again.
Just not today. My arms need a day off. The calluses and blisters on my hands could use a break. My legs are longing to be propped up in the recliner. A guy can take only so many consecutive days of strenuous fun.
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Everything Fatigue
I can totally relate to the Pratt & Whitney PW4000 engine suffering metal fatigue last weekend. I’m feeling a bit of everything fatigue lately, although, I do my best to avoid raining debris all over people around me, unlike that airplane in Denver Saturday. 
I’m clinging to my thread of sanity with a weary, wavering grip. There is a climate calamity unraveling right in front of our eyes that appears to deserve a lot more change to our ways of life than the slow-responding societies around the globe are revealing any willingness to undertake. Communities are burning, flooding, freezing, suffering drought, or reaching intolerably high temperatures –sometimes experiencing an unlikely combination of the extremes– but I still climb in my gas-powered car and drive an hour to work like always.
It just feels wrong.
It also feels dangerous. Yesterday morning, I had a close encounter that used up some of my limited luck on avoiding a collision on the interstate. I commonly operate in cruise control mode with my car holding the speed and distance related to the vehicle in front of me. A business panel van passed me on the left and then slowed down entering a curve in the highway. My car maintained the cruise speed and caught right up beside the van in the turn as it slowed, at which point he decided to move into my lane.
I hit the brakes and swerved as little as possible, having no time to look to the lane to my right for clearance. My lunch tote on the front seat instantly relocated to the floor below.
It happened so fast, I didn’t have time to honk my horn to alert the other driver to my position. I suspect the assumption was that I had been passed and was no longer a concern. It wouldn’t surprise me if the other driver wasn’t even aware of having slowed at the curve.
The event provided me an unwelcome shot of adrenaline and triggered visions of a fate I flirt with two times a day, four days a week. Haunted by a belief that anything can go dangerously wrong at any time when commuting in traffic, I’m feeling the fatigue of having tolerated the risks of this trip for too many years.
I’m fatigued with the pandemic, its death toll, and everything related to coping with the ever-present threat of spreading the virus.
I’m even growing fatigued with our latest jigsaw puzzle. We picked one with way too much solid black background that is cut entirely of one primary classic puzzle piece shape: four arms, a knob on each end, two cutouts on each side. The only variation is the size and shape of each of those features.
It is very possible I will give myself permission to give up before placing every piece. That just depends on whether searching for the barely perceptible features of each completely black piece distracts me from the other angsts nibbling at me and releases the blessed endorphins when I stumble upon ones that fit.
Endorphins do wonders for fatigue.
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Project Endorphins
During the winter, I like to assemble jigsaw puzzles. With the pandemic forcing us to stay home, I have more opportunities to puzzle. Now that Cyndie has developed a new interest in puzzling, I am all the more enticed to feed the passion.
But I am torn. I have another project that is competing for my attention at the same time. I’ve started another wood sculpture out of a section of one of our ash trees that was cut down last year.
Last night, it occurred to me that working on shaping the wood gives me the same mental rewards as putting together a jigsaw puzzle. It’s tactile. It involves transforming something into a visually appealing end result.
If you have seen the Pixar/Disney computer-animated comedy-drama film, “Soul,” you will understand the euphoric trance of being “in the zone” of our passions.
Working to shape the wood with rough grit sandpaper, I felt the familiar euphoria of pleasing progress that was just like the reward I get from puzzling.
It’s also a lot like devouring a good book. You don’t want to put it down. You are willing to sacrifice sleep to continue progress. When you are away from [the book/puzzle/sculpting], all you want is to get back to it as soon as possible.
You want more of those project endorphins.
I want more of those project endorphins. Who has time to eat? How am I supposed to go to work?
I want more time to be in that euphoric zone.
For both projects.
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Relative Something 