Give It a Shot
“Sure, I can do that,” I say with confidence to Molly. Sure, I tell myself. I can bring out my inner plumbing, carpentry and general handyman skills. I can replace that old faucet, bathroom vanity and lay down new tile. That’s just a weekend job, and hey I’ve got weekends to give. In a split-second of brainwave activity, the insta-thoughts (pride) flash before me by way of visions of a freshly-finished sparkling and modern bathroom, top to bottom. I lead Molly to the bathroom doorway, turn on the lights, remove her blindfold and await her oohs and aahs, her shrieks of joy and her amazement of my talents. “Oh honey! How did you do this? It is so beautiful, and exactly what I wanted! You are an amazing husband and an even more amazing skilled tradesman.”
Then I’m back in the moment and in the real world, but it’s too late. That very brief film that played through my pride-filled brain has convinced me I can get the job done, and I’m actually excited about it. I may have to read a few instructional booklets, watch five different YouTube videos of real professionals doing what I’m about to do, be prepared to make trip after trip to the hardware store, and maybe even extend the work to two weekends — or two weeks — but yes, I can do it!
Ok, who am I fooling, and why do I do this? Every year. A new project with bravado at the beginning followed by suffering and frustration, cussing, false hope, tears, bandages, and pulled muscles in weird places. The project is always over budget due to newly-purchased tools I’ll only use once, and if you look close enough you’ll surely see the scratches, the drips and the marks of a novice. When will I learn?
Actually I do learn, usually. And that is, we learn. We learn by doing. We learn by planning, by researching, by sometimes hurting ourselves, our egos, and sometimes others. We definitely learn from our failures. We acquire new skills, develop muscle memory, build levels of confidence through challenges, and just as importantly we learn our limits and how far we can go on our own before calling a friend, an expert, or an electrician. Our experiences give us confidence — and fear, and the older we get, our collection of everything just mentioned might even be called wisdom, I suppose.
I consider myself not much of an expert on anything in particular but I do know a little about a lot, and that suits me well in holding somewhat intelligent conversations on many topics and keeps my team in the hunt at trivia time. Do I have some wisdom? Well, that’s debatable for sure, but I have learned that I won’t become wiser or smarter if I don’t try to learn or experience new things. We’re all like that, right? There’s joy in the familiar, yet there’s also joy in the new. Traveling to Italy for the first time, eating at a new restaurant, or having dinner with your new neighbors may seem risky at first but it all adds to our lived experiences and makes us smarter and wiser. We grow for our own benefit and for the benefit and enjoyment of others and for the community we live in. For me there is joy in trying and pride in a completed task or project, and pleasure in seeing others enjoy that accomplishment. I may not be quite the handyman I think I am, but at least down the road I can offer sage advice on what to do or what to avoid — or who to call — to a budding, fellow weekend warrior.
Back to the bathroom. It’s almost finished after two months. The videos and instructions were most helpful, and the new counter is almost level. The plumber who came out to assist with my errors seemed genuinely pleased with my efforts and commended me on our choice of paint color for the walls. I’ll get to the tile floor maybe next month, and in the meantime I’ve got my sights on replacing the back deck.
