Thoughtfully courageous
Be the puppy and jump
Happy Friday! I hope you have something creative and fun to jump into this weekend. ~JRC
Years ago, a friend had a thoughtfully courageous puppy full of energy and affection. What I mean by "thoughtfully courageous" is that the dog, about two months old at the time, was not overtly brave (or blindly reckless) but instead somehow mindful of the risks in front of her. And yet - despite those risks - she still managed to “go for it” more often than not.
Example: my friend's house transitioned from carpeted area to slick wood floor with a sizable step down between the two. When on the wood floors, the puppy would slip and fall as if on ice, so when it came time to move from carpet to wood, she would hesitate. But after briefly pacing back and forth and barking as if talking herself up for the move, she'd jump and slide - and be all wagging tails thereafter.
It was beautiful to watch, seeing how the puppy was growing and learning as she leaped and played.
It's curious how often I reflect on that puppy, thinking of her will to jump.
As I said, she would go for it. Life presents obstacles that seem daunting or even wholly overwhelming, much like that slick floor to the puppy. But when we size up the situation, do a little of our own barking as needed, and then take the leap, things usually work out.
Despite the above-stated wisdom, though, I always seem to hesitate.
No matter how many complicated tasks I've tackled over the years, I almost always have this pang of self-doubt when the job ahead is new or involved. Complex and novel projects always make me take pause. What if I damage things? What if a mistake is irreparable? The delays. The cost!
These fears got the best of me when younger. But as I've grown and learned (and, yes, made many mistakes), I've realized that "I can do this" is more often true than the opposite. And when I fail, as I still do, I have the experience to know I can pick myself up and do it again. I've even learned to relish those momentary butterflies in my gut as I take on challenging tasks. And then I, too, jump right in.
Never is this more valid than in making, doing, and DIYing. One has to do it to do. Redundant, perhaps. True, nonetheless.
Yeah, I still screw up, as mentioned. But these mistakes hurt a lot less than they used to. They're part of the calculated risk when doing things ourselves. Always a learning opportunity and all but the most egregious mistakes help us do even better the next time.
The other day, I made such a mistake (not an egregious one - only an everyday blunder). It was while installing a new set of bearings in the bottom bracket of my mountain bike. When pressing them into the frame, I included an optional ring spacer that came with the bearing set, and, despite knowing (deep down) that mine didn't need the spacer, I used it anyway. (I’m not sure why; it was an enticing spacer, I guess.)
Bad things happened.
When I wrenched down to re-install the crank, one side of the bearings crushed in due to the excess width of the spacer. But the mistake was fixable, although it cost me about thirty bucks and another twenty minutes of work (plus time waiting for the new part to arrive).
This blunder wasn't the end of the world, not by far. And frankly, even with my error in judgment and execution, it was still worth it. After the job was complete and my ride zipped along better than ever with new bearings, I reflected on doing the work myself. It gave me great satisfaction.
Because I was willing to jump in, my experience with my bike is now much deeper and richer than if someone else had done the work.
Some things in life are harder than others - way harder than DIY bike repairs, to be sure. And jumping in head first is not always advisable. But if we look over most situations carefully, we can see a path forward; it is here where we recognize how to proceed. And doing so is a means to jump, not in ignorance of what comes next, but informed as to the potential outcome and possibilities.
The trick, of course, is not to let that pre-jump contemplation go on too long.
Doing so invites fear, reluctance, and even the desire to give up. Instead, we need to think briefly and then act accordingly to succeed. To get the job done, we must be thoughtfully courageous.
So be the puppy.
And jump.
Until next time.
JRC
“Never is this more valid than in making, doing, and DIYing. One has to do it to do. Redundant, perhaps. True, nonetheless.“
To do and DIY…Tennyson
To do or DIY…Gandhi
Both great makers as well.
And both hesitated till the time was right. :-)