Nick of Time
Since last November, when I first saw the property that would become my house, my nervous system has been red zoned. From finances to contractors to hard labor to fending off rain and cold in a tent, it’s been a hell of a year. I know transitions, I’ve made lots of them. The process is often stressful, but this house has pushed me to the brink.
I was probably 8 or 9 when a family friend observed me eating dessert, carefully consuming all of the cake while avoiding the frosting, which I devoured in the last bites. He introduced me to the concept of delayed gratification and said that my behavior bode well for my future prospects. It’s easy to see how it’s played out in my life. But he left out a key part, which is that it isn’t all eating delicious cake before getting to the delicious frosting, usually, the period of restraint is a roller coaster of nervous energy and worst case scenario building, “What if there is no frosting?!”. Watching my bank account dwindle as my body became exhausted and the cold set it, all I was aiming for one thing, permission to move in. Well, I got permission and now, I’m basically in the same position that I will be for the rest of my life…working on the house. My mantra through the “dark ages” of the project was, “it’s the best it’s been”. Every day when I left the house, I would assess my progress and think of how many moments of satisfaction the place has to offer. At best it worked to keep me motivated, at worst, I knew that there was no way to go but through it.
I’ve always struggled to regulate my nervous system and my go to response has been to outsource the struggle to some external need. It’s not unusual for it to be some huge labor, something juicy to explain all the tension. I’ll feel better when….fill in the blank. But this project has been different in one essential way, I know I don’t have another one of these in me.
Today, I turned my attention back the workshop. I’m prepping the parts for a rocker class. I used to outsource a lot of this prep, but now I choose to do it myself. It’s a chance to relax and do some woodworking, quietly… alone. No big payoff or risk, just moving a bunch of wood through a process.
I may be working with a bunch of ash, but today, it tastes a lot like frosting.
I'm glad you got to move in before the frosting hit the fan!
Pete, I am so, so, so happy for you! A warm shower, with a real roof over our heads, is one of life's sublime blessings! Every day I've thought of you, hoping you were in from the cold. Hooray! And I admire and respect your approach to life, and to our reactions to what life throws at us. I believe you couldn't be more right: turning anxiety outward, through work, or through -- when we have the bandwidth for it -- doing some small good turn for somebody else (surefire in its anodyne power for me, anyway). And never taking the small things for granted. I think you've got the magic formulae. And I think recognizing you may not have another project like this, in these circumstances, in you is also a mark of wisdom. Well, I wish I could be wonderfully brief and funny, as Joe Bass was with his delightful comment! But I do send you my heartfelt congratulations --- your first Thanksgiving in your remarkably transformed space! -- and, on this Thanksgiving, my gratitude for Pete Galbert, who is a light in our lives.