If I get on the roof am I closer to Buddha?

I love roofing because I hate roofing. Does that make sense? It does to me. Anyone in their proper mind would hate the task of putting an asphalt shingle roof on a building. It's dangerous, brutish, dirty, and painfully tiring. Add in the reality that my knees and lower back aren't what they used to be and that I'm afraid of heights, and you can see why it's not my favorite thing to do. And yet, in a way, I love it because it demands that I pay attention. Roofing demands that I immerse myself in the task at hand. People pay money for that you know. It's truly a zen endeavor because it is at once mindless and mindful. The act of putting shingles on a roof is, for the most part, numbingly mindless. Once the pattern is set, any moron can run wild putting up the courses. Seriously, any moron. Stop by a roofing job and talk to the boys sometime if you don't believe me. And yet, if that moron isn't mindful of the fact that he or she is, somewhat precariously, perched on an elevated, slanted, and sometimes slippery surface, said moron will be collecting workman's compensation in no time. Or worse. It's not like that for everyone though. The people that make it a career tend to be people that can run around on a roof with no regard for the consequences of a slip. And they probably aren't as clumsy as I am either. Go ahead, get up on your roof right now and become one with the universe. Ohhhmmm.