Nailing the Dharma

There's nothing like a little home improvement to send you screaming to the meditation cushion to get a grip, because there's nothing better than a little home improvement to teach you first hand just how much suffering can be added to samsara. All I wanted to do was fix the closet pole that sank under the weight of my winter clothes. No biggie, right?

One of the two plastic cups that hold the wooden pole ripped off its screw and propelled my clothes toward my shoes on the floor. I heard the crash, investigated and immediately closed the door because I didn't want to deal with that mess right then. I had other messes. Besides, I didn't have to. Total collapse and chaos had been prevented when the pole on its way toward the ground got caught on a little ledge of wood support.  Was that merit kicking in blessings or what? 

But I am not a slacker. I did go to the hardware store and politely explain to the man with suspenders who asked if he could help me that all I wanted to do was get new holders for the old closet pole. Maybe something stronger than white plastic. 

"Yes," he said, nodding sympathetically.  "That plastic will give in a few years time."

"Or," I added, "with a few extra, heavyweight clothes." Ah! The accumulations are supposed to be twofold: wisdom and merit, not corduroy pants.

Suspenders took me to the appropriate aisle (those aisle directory signs never say "closet pole regalia"), and luckily found a cohort there in a matching red Ace Hardware shirt who squatted and handed up from obscurity on the very bottom rack a plastic package of two wooden closet pole cups. China's finest.  "This is what you want," he assured me.'

"Standard size, right?" I broke into sudden sweat. "I... I forgot to measure the width of the pole."

"It's all standard. You'll be fine. These are strong."

No sweat! It didn't matter that I'd made the mistake of not measuring first.  I was powerful like Mitt Romney: a problem solver!

I tried to avoid my closet. That little hardware store see-through package sitting on the counter made me feel guilty. My To-Do list for today started with "fix closet pole" before "do dharma practice." Really, I told myself, this will be quick. then you can get on with Sunday morning. All i had to do was take every last hanger off that wooden pole, find a place for all those clothes, then remove the screw the white plastic holder had yanked itself free from and put in my new strong wooden holder with its own screw. Problem solving in action. 

Okay, so I did get bogged down evaluating all those clothes: was I really going to wear that white shirt again? Should I sell the sweater? Did those pants fit or not? What was with all this attachment anyway? Let go, let go. How can I have 10 pairs of pants when I can only wear one at a time? Didn't the pole collapse from the weight of my wears?  I needed to lighten the load. Sorting through my things took about an hour. 

Finally I got back to the closet. The pole was caught on that little ledge of wood and didn't want to come free from either end. Okay, I reasoned. I'll deal with this later. I'll start by removing the abandoned screw so I can put my new one in. I checked that it required a flathead screwdriver and went to fetch one. I am ready to solve small problems like this: I have a small toolkit of guy stuff. 

I went at it with my flathead screwdriver and as Karmapa likes to say: nothing happened. That screw was so attached to that wall, it didn't want to be removed. It was in crooked, its top side tilted back into the wooden wall so that you couldn't even get a pliers behind it.. Worse, it had a slit too small for my screwdriver to get into.  Okay, I can be reasonable. These are just small things in the big picture. I can stay calm. I have more screwdrivers somewhere. Somewhere. After ten minutes of cleaning out the kitchen catch-all drawer, I found a screwdriver that seemed smaller. At least the handle was smaller. I tried twisting and pushing, twisting, twisting, and as Karmapa likes to say: Nothing happened. 

Of course a guy would've had some sort of electric power tool that would've ripped that sucker right out of the wall because a guy knows you can't put a new screw right where there is still a screw in the wall. And if you don't put the new screw right there, the closet pole is going to be crooked one way or another.  

I'm not a guy. And I was screwed. I could feel frustration setting in. Dharma practice will do that for you, put you right in touch with yourself. It just won't touch the source of the frustration and get the damned screw out of the wall. So I had another idea. I went back to the toolbox and got the hammer. I could just smash that screw flat into the wall and put the new one in right next to it. So what if the pole was going to be just a little bit crooked. It was my closet. And slamming that screw with a hammer felt really good. Out out frustration. Anger not allowed in mind's storage spaces.

The wood wall took a few dents where the hammer hit but as Karmapa likes to say: nothing happened. The screw was still at its original angle. "Okay," the inner guru said to me, "leave it be and get the pole free. Sooner or later you're going to have to do that anyway."  How hard could it be?

Don't ask. I moved the loose end of the pole up, around, up, down, wherever it would go but the other end remained very attached to its cup in the wall. I let loose a lot of foul words. But then I remembered the gift of dharma and let loose a mantra for accomplishment...of "ordinary powers." Don't ask me what the right angle was but that damned pole came loose at last.  I had no idea how I was going to get it back up when the time came but that was later and Dharma is now.

I screwed my new wooden pole holder into the wall next to the bent screw, screwed it in as tight as I could get it to go with a piece of it tilted forward because that old unyielding screw was behind. I was proud of myself for solving a problem: the new closet pole cup was installed. It was tight. I had accomplished "ordinary powers."

Now I had to put the pole back. Just put the pole back, hang up the clothes that had survived scrutiny and get on with Sunday and dharma practice. There was of course the problem of finding the mysterious angle that would get the pole past that protruding ledge where it had been caught in the fall. Hmm... mmm...here...no here...crikes, there, yes...no...It was like slow motion baton twirling.

Somehow I got the pole past the ledge. I don't know how. I got it toward the new wooden holder. It touched the holder, said hello and then as Karmapa likes to say: Nothing happened.  Maybe there are standards for things like closet poles, but the wooden cup holder was 1/4" thicker than that cheap skimpy plastic one that wormed its way off the screw.  The pole was too long to fit in.  I was really screwed.

Of course I don't have a saw. I am a cook. I cut celery not dowels. And it being Sunday I didn't reckon anybody I knew who had a saw would want to come tearing down to get 1/4" off my clothes pole.  The last time I had the handyman/carpenter here he told me he'd been here three times in two weeks. "You need a husband."

What I really I needed was to solve another problem: getting all those clothes off my bed so I could sleep tonight. I unscrewed my new strong wooden closet pole holder, China's finest, and put it back with its mate in the little see-through plastic bag it came in. I went to the trash and fished out that tacky white plastic holder, China's best. I could see how elongated the screw hole was where the cup pulled away. I put the new screw from the wooden holder up to it: I had less than 1/16' coverage. 

I screwed that torn white plastic cup back into the wall 1/4" from where it had been. Tight. Then I played baton games to get the wooden closet pole back into it. I hung a few things up, closed the door and went to make myself a coffee. Since it was now almost lunch time, I was getting hungry. Besides, I thought leaving for a few minutes was a prudent way of testing the strength of my solution. 

Good news. As Karmapa likes to say: nothing happened.  I hung up all my shirts--lightweight stuff, and waited for the fall. Okay. I added sweaters and summer pants.  While waiting for the fall, I sorted through what was still on the bed and decided I should not take things too far. I should just put the heaviest hangers on the chair for...well later. I put other stuff back on the pole--not the heavy stuff mind you, but more. It didn't budge. 

I ran to my shrine and dedicated the merit. I knew of course that impermanence was going to kick in any minute, any hour. It was just a hanger away. Very soon, at some inconvenient moment, that white plastic cup was going to tear off the new screw. But I had solved a problem now. Now is Dharma. Later is handyman.


~Sandy Garson "Wordsmithing to attest how the Dharma saved me from myself!"
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