solid satisfaction

in a world of amorphous bullshit

Each roof truss has a story. Some wiggled. Others pitched. When I moved them to the top plates by myself, they had a life of their own.

As I lie here in bed, every two by four is known to me. The sheets of plywood were all moved, handled, measured, cut and hammered into place by yours truly. The floors, the wiring, the windows and doors all were installed by my hand.

I love my cabin. Built with the help of my dad, mom, uncles and cousins, each time I’m there I feel incredible pride. I did this. I built this. What was once a pile of wood, now shelters my family.

There are few things as satisfying as seeing the results of your handywork. I imagine those who carved out the seats of the Red Rocks Amphitheatre had a similar satisfaction looking at their work. When we experience the physical pain and exhaustion of our efforts and see physical results, something magical happens within our bodies and minds. Sadly though, this experience seems to becoming more unique to humans.

David Graeber in …