A riding mower sits in my garage surrounded by wrenches, WD-40, starting fluid, and oil-covered rags. It hasn’t started since my brother dropped it off. His neighbor gave it to him, though I now suspect this an act of self- preservation cloaked in generosity. Every couple of weeks, I kneel before it, study it for a few minutes, wipe off some oily dirt, and remove a part. I put the part back on, then turn the key with a glimmer of hope that sputters and dies.
This weekend I pulled out a small engine repair book, and plunged into the esoteric world of carburetors and fuel systems. However, the book was about small engines in general and there are hundreds, perhaps thousands of variations in design. My particular beast was nowhere within those pages. I slid the book back onto the shelf and headed for the garage. After kneeling before the mower for a few minutes of quiet contemplation, I yanked off the carburetor, soaked every crevice with cleaning fluid, and slapped it back into place – perhaps thirty minutes of labor. I turned the key and it sputtered, then revved into life.
Now to the point. I procrastinated in-depth work on the mower because I could not find a specific service manual. I wanted a book, an expert to hold my hand through the repairs. This wasted time because within me was enough experience and knowledge to fumble through the process with a chance for success. I’ve read a few repair manuals, talked shop with people, and fiddled with engines on occasion. I had the knowledge, but not the faith and trust.
On the other hand, last winter, I tried starting a fire by rubbing two sticks together. After a number of exhausting, frustrating attempts, I decided to research the problem. Through the internet, I found numerous people who shared their fire building skills. I read many pages and carefully gathered the recommended woods and tinder. When further research yielded little new advice, I knew it was time to try. After two failed attempts, I started a fire in about one minute. Since then, I’ve started numerous fires and taught others the same skill.
There is a point to this story, as well. No doubt, I would eventually have stumbled upon how to start a fire with two sticks. That is, if I was determined enough to keep trying in the face of many failures. I saved many weeks of frustration by reading and then taking action.
Here is the message: read. When beginning a spiritual search, read, read, and read some more. You need the background knowledge to go out and create a path for your self. Books give you information and inspiration. Information to modify to fit your particular personality and inspiration to give you faith in your ability to do anything you set your mind to, or die trying.
The answer to starting the fire was not solely in the words of others – the answer was in my hands. The written word helped my hands to move, and once they moved properly that knowledge became part of me.
Reading is abused by many – like the graduate student who is forever reading the work of others rather than carrying out his own experiment. Spiritual teachers advise us that the answer is within, not in any book, so many people put down their maps and wander aimlessly, looking between their legs for a way home. The beginner is highly unlikely to abuse reading. Great men, and even some fools, will study the work of others before embarking on their adventure, and look to the words of others for encouragement throughout their journeys.
The day may come when you put down your books, and your momentum of search is enough to keeping you working. Till then, books focus your attention on the spiritual search. The more attention applied to the problem, the greater your chance of success. With the knowledge from books, you can fix lawn mowers, start fires, and even answer the most important question in your life: who and what are you?