Mr. Miyagi-ing Yourself
For those that might not know, Mr. Miyagi taught a teenage boy martial arts through a series of long-term tasks. He had him wax his cars, sand the floor, paint the house siding, and then paint the fence. Each one was methodical, done in a particular way, for hours on end. After one job was complete, he was given another, more arduous chore. The end point of being done kept expanding.
Just prior to this scene, Mr. Miyagi tried to calmly catch a fly with his chopsticks, to know avail. Daniel gets it after a few tries.
One can assume that because it had a focus and because it was long in duration, Daniel found a way to make the work meditative. He was given a technique, but to be able to perform it for hours, even when young and able-bodied, requires an interest or playful curiousity. Perhaps there was rhythm or a feel or a subtle noticing that turned it from daunting to engaging. Like the undertaking of knowing and understanding oneself, the satisfaction of being finished pales in comparison of finding something worthwhile to work on.
Being willing, though, doesn’t always translate to ethereal learning. There is often a breaking point where the frustration of NOT being done overwhelms the person on their journey. The grace and trust in the process wears off and an answer (or a conclusion) is demanded now. In that moment, if an eyes-closed deep breath and internal reminder to stay the course doesn’t work, the bigger-picture purpose and application must be revealed to them:
The brilliance of task-based learning is that you get two* desired outcomes: the lesson and the completed project.
*A third could be added if the action was laborious and adds a layer of physical experience.
Miyagi was a boss because he got his point across AND spiffed up his house and cars. His name translates to “Shrine Fortress” which relays immediate significance. This place that means so much and must be protected. Cared for. Maintained for longevity.
This is how I think of my body.
I want to enjoy this home in which I reside, both metaphorically and literally. I want to inhabit it. I want to pay attention and notice and act on its behalf. I want to problem seek so small issues remain small and can be managed/ handled. It is not about neurosis or perfection; it is about preservation and upkeep so the standard of fruition remains high.
Fulfillment occurs in the act of doing. It is the problem solving aspect of maintenance. Most often, it is small tasks, like pulling the weeds or stopping a leaky faucet. (I liken these to the morning movement feel-outs.) Sometimes, though, a decision is made to take-on a larger project, like fixing a leaning fence or refinishing the floors. (I liken these to the long term figuring of a nagging pain or strengthening a weakness.)
Labor offers me an act of endurance that allows me to toggle between doing the thing and assessing/ altering how I’m doing the thing. It is real-time assess, adapt, and evaluate. It is the breakdown into steps and digestible bits, building into and upon a larger whole. Zoom in, zoom out, find the forward line.