Justin Foeppel

Tuesday June 7, 2016

I’m here in Zürich and all sorts of ideas are clicking. Guy Spier’s ideas that our environment changes us…wow, Zürich is just so clean. I find myself respecting this place because it deserves respect. I was shaving this morning and I turned the water off rather than leave it run. Back home in Silicon Valley, I’m just kind of like ‘whatever’. We’re in a severe drought but it’s not my problem.

What’s the difference? I don’t know, but perhaps it’s this sense of place, of community, of timeless endurance that I had once I arrived in Zürich. From the time I entered the airport, with its sterile design and clean appearance, I found myself caring about this place. I settled on lunch at Kafi Dihei and again found something special. A very clean establishment with home-style furniture, antique I might say. All wooden. Built to last. Friendly staff with no hurry.

And this brings me to the idea that’s on my mind: Respect cannot be legislated, enforced, brought about by emotional appeals. Respect is earned in every right. It’s earned not in a ‘Give me respect, I deserve it because I’ve worked for it’ sense. Rather, it’s most earned when it comes about from a disarming stance. ‘I am meek. I will not fight for respect, but I care deeply for this, that, or the other. I am hopeful that you will appreciate this and come to give it the same respect, but if you don’t I will not fight about it.’

This parallels a book I’ve been reading during my travels: Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig. A book that is reminding me much of Matthew B. Crawford’s Shop Class as Soulcraft which I read during vacation to San Diego a couple years ago. Both of these books speak to an experience of something at great depth. Not at a surface level, but the sort of experience that can be had when one slows down and really appreciates the essence.

Both works speak much of motorcycle maintenance. They use motorcycle maintenance to illustrate the experience of a master craftsman. The experience of the master craftsman is important because they develop an appreciation through their practice for something that may otherwise being boring and mundane. There is so much more to a motorcycle than meets the eye.

It’s interesting having these insights while on my first trip to Zürich. Many have asked “What are you planning to see?” and “Are you staying awhile to see the sights.” “I don’t know” and “Yes” have been my responses. But, as I sit in the quaint café yesterday or the Airbnb apartment today, I find myself wanting to stay put. Why a need to rush to see the sights? Perhaps it’s about an illusion, an illusion of experience. When I see something, go somewhere, or do something I can say, ‘Yes, I have done that.’ However, have I? What is it to see a sight? When I see a sight do I have the same experience as someone who has lived the sight? Perhaps a loaded question, as my opinion is clearly ‘no.

Anyway, this trip has just begun and I will get to have my own experience. Will I give in to my desire to be busy about town and see everything I can? Or will I have a different experience, an experience like that of a master craftsman practicing their trade? An experience where slow, steady, and focused trumps all else. I don’t know, but, Zürich, you have my respect.

Justin Foeppel