I thought I would just quickly right the problem and slip the line back on the metal pulley and get on with things. I tried to do this in the easiest and quickest manner possible, not paying that much attention. "Let's get this done, should be easy."
First try entailed a fair bit of struggling and resulted in a product where the lines were crossed. At that point I was getting a little testy. The project seemed to require more strength than I had in my hands and I was getting tired of this. After a fair bit of gnashing and wrangling I realized that my frustration was nothing more than desire, wanting things to be my way. Oh and by the way they should be easy! It was a beautiful day, the sun was shining, I was outside, yet I was annoyed and frustrated. When the truth struck me upside the head (Zen masters like to give a little wack when necessary) I decided to pause, take a breath and examine things from another angle. How did the pulley and line fit together? And maybe it just required a little concentrated attention, some awareness perhaps.
Sure enough in a minute or two I had it fixed. And I could see that my frustration was nothing more than desire sporting a different outfit. It seemed there were two kinds of frustration, one that is very much like that aggressive, shouting anger. How dare this happen? What a pain. I have better things to do. And the whiney depressed defeated frustration that says I'm never going to get this fixed. Why doesn't someone just come rescue poor me. I'm not strong enough for this task.
So that was how Zen Master Clothes Line offered up the Dharma for the day. I apparently have a thing for clothes lines. This little collage above is from a very old series called "Life On The Line" comprised of many scenarios on clothes lines, weddings, baby things, bears, gardening accoutrements, underwear, dogs, cats, even hockey things. You're getting the picture. And by the way, does anyone know how to use the little pulley contraption that connects the two lines?