I brought one unadorned house home to finish, to cut into and add onto. The other day I sat down to finish it because tomorrow I'm going to Mary's with number 4 in tow and to make the 5th, final house.
I was feeling pretty groovy about this house, diving in without a plan, carving, adding on. Then I thought I better see if it still fit over the post it would sit on. I placed it on top of a scrap of post. Oops. A bit tight. That's when it began to come apart. Okay, no sweat - with 23 years experience helping kids build with clay, I was sure of my repair skills.I added coils, expanding the house to fit over the post. I cut in here, took out large areas there, played around with the clay until I felt I'd done enough.
I let it sit up awhile and harden, then when I moved it again, it came apart into 2 pieces. No big deal - each side had a hole in it to screw it to the post so that wouldn't matter. I moved it again and it fell into 4 pieces. Not so good.
Alright, time to give up. I had taken too much clay away and it was better to start over.The thing that really struck me was how I didn't really care. All the work building it, time spent, all gone to pieces. And I didn't feel any remorse or regret. Had I gone stone cold?
Then I realized I've finally gotten to that place in my life where some things that go wrong just aren't worth one single nano-second of my time boo-hooing over. As this great post from Tiny Buddha suggests, I've made acceptance a priority. The word "fair" is no longer in my vocabulary, I know this problem is teenie tiny and not a big deal, and I can start again, lesson learned.
I think I'm finally learning to be more like my dog. Living in the moment, moving on quickly to the next. The lack of drama is lovely. And I can't wait to see how the last 2 houses turn out. Life is grand.
Love you way of working things through, as always. I'm not sure I agree with much of the bumper sticker philosophy on the Tiny Buddha linked post though. Losing a job is not losing your home, and certainly not losing a loved one. For me the hardest life lesson is learning to keep things in perspective. (To not sweat the small stuff, you must first identify what really is small in the grand scheme of things). In situations such as collapsing clay house lantern covers,I try to focus on the admonition of the Persian philosophers, who said - If that's worst thing to happen this week, it's a good week. (On second thought, I think maybe Groucho said that.)
ReplyDeleteAfter great loss, I started assigning things to the "that's fixable" and "that's not fixable" list. Guess that's one way I figure out what's the small stuff. Then try to take action ASAP. Action is such an anxiety buster. And believe you me, I'm sure life will find me in the fetal position under the covers again. For me, the key is to come out sooner and find ways to turn it around faster. Around different big ones in my life, acceptance has taken me months for some, and years, even decades. But something has shifted for me. Maybe all this thinking and introspection has jelled. Thanks for reading my styff.
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