Going to Church
No, I have not had a spiritual epiphany and reverted to being a good God-fearing Christian you all want me to be. As I have said many times, I do consider myself a good Christian already. I believe in Christian values (though my Jewish friends and Muslim friends,,,not to mention Buddhist and Hindu friends) would argue that the qualities that define goodness are more universal than those I choose to define as Christian beliefs. In any case, I have spent enough time in church to say with some degree of assurance that I enjoy the peace and tranquility that going to church gives me. I like the singing too. I even sometimes like the demons I hear, especially if they are crated less to lecture and more to coax me and others into thoughtfulness. I don’t go to church very often these days, but it is not at all a statement of disbelief or a vendetta against organized religion. In fact, not so long ago I debated my friend Steve on religion (he seems to have a bone to pick against Christianity) and I found myself thinking that it was a shame that he was so troubled by religion that it evoked more disruption to his peace of mind than any form of serenity. Having recently seen and watched his tribute to his long-dead young son, I perhaps have a better understanding of why he might be so adamant about the hypocrisy of the church and religion in general. I imagine that an inability to grapple with the triumph of nature over grace can easily sour a person on the benefits of praying for salvation to a higher being.
None of this is driving me back into the cloisters of the church in search of mindfulness. That might still happen to me during my lifetime, in fact, the very mention of it makes it more rather than less likely that I will at some point be driven to introspection that will take the form of seeking peace in some sort of chapel. But for now, my search for peace comes in two flavors. One is this late night vigil I am in the midst of at this moment where I arise for ah hour or two after having slept for four or so hours. I have little I can point to that is troubling me and giving me grief, but I do get pensive when the dark surrounds me and there is no sound to distract me. The second is the peace of nature. What was it that William Wordsworth said with such poignancy?
My heart leaps up when I behold
A rainbow in the sky:
So was it when my life began;
So is it now I am a man;
So be it when I shall grow old,
Or let me die!
The Child is father of the Man;
And I could wish my days to be
Bound each to each by natural piety
I only wish that some day I could say so much with so few words. This short, seven line, 61-word, 194-character sentiment is as impactful and stylish as any I can remember to sum up how I feel as I sit and admire the wonders around me, whether in the cathedral of Zion astride my motorcycle or sitting in the shade on one of my wooden garden benches.
Speaking of those garden benches, as I mentioned in a recent story about my basalt column fountain project, I am missing and plan to add back a more natural rock fountain that will be able to run constantly during the day (I will likely conserve energy and water by shutting it down at night via a timer). You need not be a Feng Shui devotee to see the value in the sound of running water when you want a contemplative moment. But how best to make that happen is still something to be explored.
I have found and acquired my rock and my apparatus to create the pondless fountain solution that seems ready to deliver this tranquility to my garden. The big problem remains how best to move the 1,400 pound rock the thirty or so feet to its final resting place in the garden. My workman Dave seems particularly preoccupied with this challenge and reminds me regularly that he has no intention of injuring himself over my dumb piece of rock. On Monday he will bring a heavy equipment operator friend over to survey the project and the proposed move to bid out the task for me. Usually I have to push and prof my team for planning, but this seems to concern Dave enough that he has driven the topic to the point of arranging this rehearsal and estimate process.
Meanwhile, Handy Brad has reminded me that I met and have used a local rock specialist who can cut, drill, move or generally do anything with rock that I desire. His name, as indicated on the license plate of his truck, is Church, and he is definitely a go-to kinda guy. He is a big, friendly strapping man who seems to always be in a good mood. I had him stop by yesterday when he said he was in the area for other business. He looked over my basalt column and walked into my garden and declared several things intended to give me confidence that he’s my man for this sort of project. He told me that he is the person who invented the pondless rock fountain concept in the first place. He says that all others have followed his lead and that he had created and placed countless versions of this sculpture. He then went on to describe how he would propose to move the rock. He would use a wheeled gantry of sorts that he owns and which has a strong aluminum beam that combines strength with lightness. He would winch the stone onto that gantry and simply wheel it into place and then use the winch to lower and place upright the basalt column. Easy peasy. His price was also 30% cheaper than Dave’s guy with the boom crane.
What I know for sure and am highly reassured about is that Church knows rock and is no stranger to heavy rocks. If he says he can do it, I trust that he can. But wait, there’s more. As I predicted when I talked to Handy Brad yesterday, was that I was sure that Church would tell me that he could install the fountain exactly to my specifications rather than just move the rock. He did just that and added that he had a much better way of doing it than the pondless kit I had bought with the column. He is basically not a fan of the rubber liner concept and feels it will not last as it should. He is suggesting a more complex concrete apron pong that will sit below the pebble surface and catch all the water and flow it back to the buried reservoir and pump. He seemed to feel my plumbing supplies (minus the heavy plastic liner) would work just fine. I asked for an estimate for the hell of it and he said a number 5X the cost of just moving and placing the column.
By my math, Brad would have to work almost two full weeks on this to get up to the cost mentioned by Church. I know Handy Brad wants to do the job, so I am inclined for both economy and loyalty to doing it with him. I am comfortable going to Church to solve the rock moving, but I think I will refrain from selling my soul to the higher bidder this time.