When it All Falls Apart
Well, maybe not as dire as that. I suppose I should start by saying it's not all falling apart, at least not in anything more than the sense that everything is always falling apart. Nature of the universe and all that. Still, there have been things I've been trying to do lately that are running through some rough patches, and it's good to remind myself that falling apart is what things do. If they didn't fall apart, we wouldn't have the challenge of putting them back together later.
Now, this post may be a bit scattered, and it may run over the same ground I've covered before. Ah, well. It's kind of where I am at the moment, and the thoughts are worth sharing because I'm sure you've been there, too. So, enough apologies. Here goes:
I've always had a taste for big projects. There are hundreds of little things that need doing around the house each day, but they hold no attraction like the major task that might take days of back-breaking work. The more impossible, the more likely I will be plotting a way to get it done. Bigger jobs are just more rewarding. It has nothing to do with getting credit for the feat, either. Most of the time, others don't realize the full scope of what you've done anyway. It's all about the struggle and the transformation. In any major project, household or otherwise, you're taking something unsatisfactory or non-existent and creating something new. You may be repairing damage. You may be inventing something or building a new process. At the least, you are overcoming a problem through your own dilligence and hard work. It's hard to resist the possibility of that kind of satisfaction.
There may be things that are beyond your abilities. For those, you may have to ask for help or learn new skills. Some things might prove truly impossible, forcing you to let go and move on to another challenge. There are some tasks I've undertaken that have been set aside for better days and still others where I've run aground on practical or financial limitations. Time is one of those practical obstacles. There's just not enough time to do all the things I might want to accomplish. Even if you find yourself bored from time to time, you'll run up against this fact eventually. Nobody has enough time to finish everything they want to do. So, I've learned to choose from all the tempting possibilities and only do a little too much.
Recognizing that much of the appeal of doing a big project is that magical transformation, what do you do when the magic fails you? Putting your whole self into the effort is no guarantee that your plan will work. Building something from nothing is no guarantee that it won't be swept away by forces out of your control. In fact, everything you do is doomed to that fate sooner or later. Disappointing as this may be, facing those moments is its own challenging project. It forces you to accept your limitations, to know that it's OK to fall short despite your best efforts. It forces you to see the value in doing regardless of the outcome. And it prepares you to pick yourself up and dive into the next potentially doomed project fearlessly.
Now, this post may be a bit scattered, and it may run over the same ground I've covered before. Ah, well. It's kind of where I am at the moment, and the thoughts are worth sharing because I'm sure you've been there, too. So, enough apologies. Here goes:
I've always had a taste for big projects. There are hundreds of little things that need doing around the house each day, but they hold no attraction like the major task that might take days of back-breaking work. The more impossible, the more likely I will be plotting a way to get it done. Bigger jobs are just more rewarding. It has nothing to do with getting credit for the feat, either. Most of the time, others don't realize the full scope of what you've done anyway. It's all about the struggle and the transformation. In any major project, household or otherwise, you're taking something unsatisfactory or non-existent and creating something new. You may be repairing damage. You may be inventing something or building a new process. At the least, you are overcoming a problem through your own dilligence and hard work. It's hard to resist the possibility of that kind of satisfaction.
There may be things that are beyond your abilities. For those, you may have to ask for help or learn new skills. Some things might prove truly impossible, forcing you to let go and move on to another challenge. There are some tasks I've undertaken that have been set aside for better days and still others where I've run aground on practical or financial limitations. Time is one of those practical obstacles. There's just not enough time to do all the things I might want to accomplish. Even if you find yourself bored from time to time, you'll run up against this fact eventually. Nobody has enough time to finish everything they want to do. So, I've learned to choose from all the tempting possibilities and only do a little too much.
Recognizing that much of the appeal of doing a big project is that magical transformation, what do you do when the magic fails you? Putting your whole self into the effort is no guarantee that your plan will work. Building something from nothing is no guarantee that it won't be swept away by forces out of your control. In fact, everything you do is doomed to that fate sooner or later. Disappointing as this may be, facing those moments is its own challenging project. It forces you to accept your limitations, to know that it's OK to fall short despite your best efforts. It forces you to see the value in doing regardless of the outcome. And it prepares you to pick yourself up and dive into the next potentially doomed project fearlessly.
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