Back in January, as I was waiting
for my Water Committees to get organized and ready to buy materials and start
our aqueduct projects, I was granted a few precious days that I could sit and
read in my hammock for hours on end. I
became totally immersed in a fantasy trilogy called Name of the Wind. I knew I
should have been preparing for the project – reviewing my designs, organizing
my materials lists – but every time I started feeling guilty about it, I dove
back into the books in procrastination, driving away any feelings with my
immersion in the story, in an endless cycle.
Turns out a central concept in the book was a fitting foreshadowing of
the looming project.
An excerpt:
“What will
happen if I let go of this rock?”
“It will
probably fall.”
“Probably? Hasn’t it always fallen before?”
“Don’t try to
boldface your way through this one.
That’s a fallacy. You taught me
that yourself.”
“Fine. Would it be fair to say you believe it will
fall?”
“Fair enough.”
“I want you to
believe it will fall up when I let go of it.”
I tried and I
tried. It was the most difficult thing I
had ever done. It took me almost all
afternoon.
Finally Ben was
able to drop the rock and I retained my firm belief that it wouldn’t fall
despite evidence to the contrary.
“I want you to
believe the rock will fall and that the rock will not fall when I let go of
it.” He grinned.
I went to bed
late that night. I had a nosebleed and a
smile of satisfaction. I held the two
separate beliefs loosely in my mind and let their singing discord lull me into
senselessness.
Being able to
think about two disparate things at once, aside from being wonderfully
efficient, was roughly akin to being able to sing harmony with yourself.
Patrick Rothfuss, The Name of the Wind
I believe I will succeed.
I believe I will fail. In fact, I
know both of these, with certainty. Just
like in this novel, in which all magic in this world of fantasy is based on
this ability to hold two opposing beliefs at the same time, the magic of my
service also comes from this ability.
My Mom always expressed this sentiment as, “Prepare for
the worse, hope for the best” which is just the pragmatic approach necessary to
get things done while guarding against the emotional roller coaster that always
accompanies things we care about.
Every day that I go into this aqueduct construction
project, I am afraid that I am making mistakes.
Is this tank going to hold water?
Will there be sufficient pressure in all the houses? Did I do my calculations right? Was my surveying done well enough? Is there going to be enough water when the
flow is low? Is the Water Committee
going to be able to manage the aqueduct and the funds and issues with the users? Is anyone actually going to chlorinate the
water in their houses? Are there going
to be feuds with the neighbors? Have I
anticipated all the potential problems and prepared them for it?
Yet I go on believing that it will somehow all work out,
even without having the evidence, for the sake of seeing through the project
instead of succumbing to the paralysis of perfectionism.
Knowing that in some ways the project will be a success
regardless – the people will indeed have more access to water in their houses,
and the experience of organization and working together to achieve this
improvement is indeed empowering for these families – while at the same time
knowing that in some ways it will also be a failure – they may not see health
improvements if they don’t follow my suggestions for proper water treatment and
storage and handwashing; someday things will break and I can’t know if they are
going to have the money, knowledge, and motivation to fix it; I can’t be sure that
they will see this project as empowering instead of yet another example of
needing the help of outsiders – this is the magic of maintaining those conflicting
beliefs and moving forward with the ambition to do it anyway.
We may not have in our world the Harry Potter magic that
makes reading fantasy books so fun – but there is a real magic in this world
that is even more powerful – the magic of hope that acknowledges failure, of
believing absolutely in both the ambition and its futility, then acting for the
best anyway. I practice magic every day.
Pictures:
Working on the Santos Aqueduct
Finishing up the second intake structure
Taking a moment to play with tadpoles
Working on the Beker Aqueduct
Making formwork for a splitter box (to divide the water
fairly)
Ferrocement storage tank construction –
Getting the ladies involved after lunch – making steps
for the permanent ladder inside the tank
Setting up the form for the tank
Plastering and reinforcing the tank
Working on the roof
Working from inside the tank
How I feel at the end of each day
