I saw this expressed recently in a guide to trail running (The Trail Runner’s Companion (2017) by Sarah Lavender Smith) I was reading: "'It's about the journey, not the destination.' The process of training for a race matters as much or more than the race itself." Then you're not so caught up in worrying about the result as you are in just enjoying your daily run.
And here is a Zen parable I came across not long ago that captures this same idea:
One day a Zen teacher saw five of his students return from the market, riding their bicycles. When they had dismounted, the teacher asked the students, "Why are you riding your bicycles?"
The first student replied, "The bicycle is carrying this sack of potatoes. I am glad that I do not have to carry them on my back!" The teacher praised the student, saying, "You are a smart boy. When you grow old, you will not walk hunched over, as I do."
The second student replied, "I love to watch the trees and fields pass by as I roll down the path." The teacher commended the student, "Your eyes are open and you see the world."
The third student replied, "When I ride my bicycle, I am content to chant, nam myoho renge kyo." The teacher gave praise to the third student, "Your mind will roll with the ease of a newly trued wheel."
The fourth student answered, "Riding my bicycle, I live in harmony with all beings." The teacher was pleased and said, "You are riding on the golden path of non-harming."
The fifth student replied, "I ride my bicycle to ride my bicycle." Upon hearing this, the teacher went and sat at the feet of the fifth student, and said, "I am your disciple."
So, play your bassoon to play your bassoon or run to run. If something else follows, great, but if not, then you'll have enjoyed doing what you love along the way.
*These are just examples I picked because they involve something meaningful to you all. I'm not trying to say that you don't do this already when you're playing the bassoon, or running, or picking lint out of your belly button, or whatever you spend your time doing.
Whipped White Potatoes
Adapted from The Taste of Country Cooking (1976) by Edna Lewis and Simply French (1991) by Patricia Wells and Joël Robuchon
3 pounds (5 or 6 medium-sized) white baking potatoes, such as Idaho or russet, preferably organic
1 tablespoon fine sea salt, more if needed
1 cup (240 grams) milk (anything from 1% to whole)
4 tablespoons (57 grams/½ stick) unsalted butter, cut into ½-inch cubes
½ teaspoon freshly ground white pepper
1. Wash and peel the potatoes. If they're medium-sized, cut them into quarters; if they're small, halve them. Place the potatoes and salt into a large pot, and cover with cold water by at least 1 inch. Bring to a boil, then simmer until a paring knife inserted into the potatoes meets little resistance and comes away easily, about 20 minutes.
2. Meanwhile, in a small saucepan, heat the milk over medium heat until hot but not boiling. Remove from the burner and set aside.
3. Drain the potatoes as soon as they are done. You can then (1) return the potatoes to the pot and mash them with a potato masher, or (2) pass them back into the pot through a potato ricer or a food mill, using the disk with the finest holes. Either way, set the pot over low heat and stir the potatoes with a wooden spoon for a few minutes to dry them.
4. Stir in the butter and pepper. When the butter is melted, add the milk. Whip until the potatoes are light and fluffy. If you want a serious forearm workout, you can do this with a wooden spoon; otherwise, a hand mixer will yield the best results. Taste for salt. Serve immediately—mashed potatoes wait for no one. Serves 6.
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