One by one

It started out as just a quick patch job. One, maybe two wheelbarrow loads of soil quickly raked into the hollows, throw a little grass seed down and done.

Ha! How about the equivalent of one wheelbarrow pushed a total of three and a half miles uphill full, and back again three and a half miles empty.

It took me 25 trips to get the dirt from the far side of the house to the Peace Fire.

Early on, I realized that the job was a lot bigger than originally thought.

Early on, I realized that I could save a lot of time and energy by using my truck.

But…. being the apprentice monk and being more interested in process than speed, I decided to take a zen approach to the work and slowly pace out each shovel full and each step with a prayer for peace. Sort of like, “walk and work my talk’.

By trip number 11, I was into it full swing and cheerfully talking my mantras.

By trip number 18, I was dripping with sweat, shirtless and singing out loud.

By trip number 25, and six hours later, I could hardly move. My knees, weak at the best of times, just about caved in. My arms could just about hold the rake. My body just wanted to lay down.

But it got finished. And, it looks good.

In a couple of weeks, when the new grass sprouts, there will be a lovely, shallow green dome coming off the stones surrounding the edge of the fire pit. Very sculptural, very Zen.

Now, if I can just find someone willing to push me in a wheelchair to the local pub so that I could sit contently with a strong stout and reflect on the meaning of life.