Snippets of 'Action for it's own sake'
It is not easy to task to capture or document a state of action that isn't defined by the outwardly performance of the action but instead by the state of the mind engaging in the action. There is little or nothing that can act as proof of the mental state - however, for an observer there can be an experience of it. Through the various snippets I have captured below I have tried to communicate my experience of action for it's own sake as I observe and interact with people (artisans, artists, children, others) in action.
I had been away from school for a few days. When I returned from my trip was when I first noticed the Kavade shells in the space. To be honest I first noticed it because of all the noise around it. There was a motley group of 4 sitting huddled around something and they seemed unable to control their enthusiastic shouts. After a few reminders I gave up trying to do whatever I was trying to do and asked it I could join them. The game, i was told, was called Kai mela kashi and the rules were fairly simple. Mushi's were bad, shells facing up was good and if you managed to reach 20 points you were awarded a Kichi.
Over the next few days, the obsession rapidly grew. Whenever there was a free moment the kids would huddle up to play the game. Even as little as 3-4 minutes of playing was also enjoyed. But slowly it started to feel worrisome, whether they were in the middle of a conversation, or doing something else, they would gravitate towards each other for a one .... game. Maybe I was worried because I couldn't understand the craze behind it and attributed it to the excitement of competition. Together we made some rules and slowly the excitement died down. Other arts, crafts, games made their way back into the daily rhythm.
As the excitement started to die out and maybe my irritation with it, I started to notice something else. I started to spot a few of the kids sitting alone during random times of the day with the shells, flipping them over with their hands. They were practicing throwing it, flipping it and catching it, all by themselves. One day I saw N sit with the shells alone for a whole 25 minutes - he had the option to do anything by himself yet he had chosen to do this! He would throw, flip his hand, catch. Then he would throw and catch with both hands. He kept alternating between these small variations. Occassionally he would pause and look around him but after a minute of this he would return to the shells.
For as long as I have known P he has been conducting big and small experiments with his body. B who had been struggling with his own weight issues for a long time now approached P for some support on how to get fit.
Despite trust P, it wasn’t easy for him to take on the seemingly mundane suggestions P was making, like exercising two-three times a week was probably enough to get fit and that there was no reason for B to deprive himself of good meals. Despite trying to explain the philosophy of this method through research and information, P found it difficult to sell B on this concept. B was convinced that considering the urgency of his situation he needed to be doing more - harder, faster, stronger.
So when it came to his next piece of advice, P tried something else. He did not try to explain or philosophise the act he was promoting, which in this case was walking. He simply let him know that it was something he did habitually since it allowed him to declutter his mind. Had he mentioned to B that for his specific case walking would allow for the addressing of mental issues that inevitably caused or exacerbated his physical situation, he may not have taken to it as enthusiastically since it did not directly address the goal he had worked out for himself. P suggested that to activate his metabolism B start out by walking 7000 steps a day.
A month later B casually explains how walking has become integral to his daily routine. It would help him get his mind in order and feel good about things which left him with more energy for everything else including exercise, avoiding unhealthy meals, and just generally offering him a feeling of wellness and increased energy.
There this man was making what seemed like the tenth bead since I had arrived and not once had he looked up from his tools. He couldn't, I suppose, if he had to get it right. He had to draw in all his senses into the performance his set of actions every single time he did it. I asked him how long he had been doing this. "40 years", he said. Maybe I shouldn't have asked this but the question just slipped out of my mouth before i knew it. "Do you not get bored doing this?". "Bored? No way. My interest in it simply increases. They bring me newer and newer designs and I make them. I enjoy it completely". And there he was, once again performing his set of actions - take the stick, place it in the right spot, get the tools ready, and start shaving, moulding, reshaping, colouring, smoothening. It was like a state of trance. He did not have the option of not responding to the material and it's facts.
And yet, outside his house was a decorative toran made of plastic beads! How could this be? "Do you not some things for yourself some time? A toy that was your own idea, your own design that you might want to adorn your own house with?", I ask. "No" he responds, without any conflict. Yet the love, pride, joy and peace he feels in his work is palpable as you watch him. He is completely undivided.
Kai mela kashi
Children at ShibumiI had been away from school for a few days. When I returned from my trip was when I first noticed the Kavade shells in the space. To be honest I first noticed it because of all the noise around it. There was a motley group of 4 sitting huddled around something and they seemed unable to control their enthusiastic shouts. After a few reminders I gave up trying to do whatever I was trying to do and asked it I could join them. The game, i was told, was called Kai mela kashi and the rules were fairly simple. Mushi's were bad, shells facing up was good and if you managed to reach 20 points you were awarded a Kichi.
Over the next few days, the obsession rapidly grew. Whenever there was a free moment the kids would huddle up to play the game. Even as little as 3-4 minutes of playing was also enjoyed. But slowly it started to feel worrisome, whether they were in the middle of a conversation, or doing something else, they would gravitate towards each other for a one .... game. Maybe I was worried because I couldn't understand the craze behind it and attributed it to the excitement of competition. Together we made some rules and slowly the excitement died down. Other arts, crafts, games made their way back into the daily rhythm.
As the excitement started to die out and maybe my irritation with it, I started to notice something else. I started to spot a few of the kids sitting alone during random times of the day with the shells, flipping them over with their hands. They were practicing throwing it, flipping it and catching it, all by themselves. One day I saw N sit with the shells alone for a whole 25 minutes - he had the option to do anything by himself yet he had chosen to do this! He would throw, flip his hand, catch. Then he would throw and catch with both hands. He kept alternating between these small variations. Occassionally he would pause and look around him but after a minute of this he would return to the shells.
Weaving for years
Basket weavers at K.R. Market
Imagine if each day for all your life you have worked with the same material, and repeated the same action over and over and over again. You could probably perform the actions to perfection in your sleep. It is impossible not to be in awe of someone of this kind. Some of the greatest Indian poets and philosophers have used this as a tool for their explorations of life.
As I watched the basket weavers, I observed that there were a set of actions to be performed and the weavers were masters of what they were doing. Some of them, mostly then men, had taken on the task of getting the bamboo ready for weaving. They sat on the ground, with their knives before them first cutting the bamboo in half, then chopping down the halved bamboo into even thinner sticks continuing this until the sticks were appropriately sized for weaving. Those weaving, mostly the women, would start by placing a criss cross of the skinned bamboo on the ground and weaving through it using the sticks. Up, down, up, down, up, down, pull. Even though the weavers were constantly surrounded by each other, their work was rather solitary. Their day would weave in and out of idle chit-chat with each other, meals and performing the actions they were meant to be performing.
When asked about their relationship with weaving the weavers I met mostly had one common answer "We do it because this is what we know how to do." In the voices of the men and women I spoke to there didn't seem to be any element of sadness or loss with respect to this response. The question didn't evoke in them a feeling of resentment towards the work. They were simply stating a fact - one must do what one knows how to do. And it so happened that they had learnt at a very young age to work with bamboo and weave baskets. Of course, there was the fact of this being their primary source of income, yet rarely did they communicate a feeling of entrapment.
As I watched the basket weavers, I observed that there were a set of actions to be performed and the weavers were masters of what they were doing. Some of them, mostly then men, had taken on the task of getting the bamboo ready for weaving. They sat on the ground, with their knives before them first cutting the bamboo in half, then chopping down the halved bamboo into even thinner sticks continuing this until the sticks were appropriately sized for weaving. Those weaving, mostly the women, would start by placing a criss cross of the skinned bamboo on the ground and weaving through it using the sticks. Up, down, up, down, up, down, pull. Even though the weavers were constantly surrounded by each other, their work was rather solitary. Their day would weave in and out of idle chit-chat with each other, meals and performing the actions they were meant to be performing.
When asked about their relationship with weaving the weavers I met mostly had one common answer "We do it because this is what we know how to do." In the voices of the men and women I spoke to there didn't seem to be any element of sadness or loss with respect to this response. The question didn't evoke in them a feeling of resentment towards the work. They were simply stating a fact - one must do what one knows how to do. And it so happened that they had learnt at a very young age to work with bamboo and weave baskets. Of course, there was the fact of this being their primary source of income, yet rarely did they communicate a feeling of entrapment.
For as long as I have known P he has been conducting big and small experiments with his body. B who had been struggling with his own weight issues for a long time now approached P for some support on how to get fit.
Despite trust P, it wasn’t easy for him to take on the seemingly mundane suggestions P was making, like exercising two-three times a week was probably enough to get fit and that there was no reason for B to deprive himself of good meals. Despite trying to explain the philosophy of this method through research and information, P found it difficult to sell B on this concept. B was convinced that considering the urgency of his situation he needed to be doing more - harder, faster, stronger.
So when it came to his next piece of advice, P tried something else. He did not try to explain or philosophise the act he was promoting, which in this case was walking. He simply let him know that it was something he did habitually since it allowed him to declutter his mind. Had he mentioned to B that for his specific case walking would allow for the addressing of mental issues that inevitably caused or exacerbated his physical situation, he may not have taken to it as enthusiastically since it did not directly address the goal he had worked out for himself. P suggested that to activate his metabolism B start out by walking 7000 steps a day.
A month later B casually explains how walking has become integral to his daily routine. It would help him get his mind in order and feel good about things which left him with more energy for everything else including exercise, avoiding unhealthy meals, and just generally offering him a feeling of wellness and increased energy.
Not bored
Toy makers at Channapatna
As I watched the wooden toy-makers I was in awe.
And yet, outside his house was a decorative toran made of plastic beads! How could this be? "Do you not some things for yourself some time? A toy that was your own idea, your own design that you might want to adorn your own house with?", I ask. "No" he responds, without any conflict. Yet the love, pride, joy and peace he feels in his work is palpable as you watch him. He is completely undivided.
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