Monday, March 18, 2013

Joinery


I’ve heard it said that falling in love with an inanimate object is not possible. That love itself is something that must be shared with a creature that can offer love in return. I guess when I really think about this statement I have to agree, but in my fifty years I sure have been in deep-like with some objects and ideas.

I do believe that my fascination with all things made of wood could be described as love. When this obsession struck me I was in my mid-twenties; a young man looking for something to do for a living that would both hold my interest and get me out of the bed each morning. Of course I wanted to make money, but at this time in my life I worried more about enjoying myself. I made things out of wood all day for an hourly wage and I built things in my own shop at night (and weekends) for fun. Sounds like love to me.

But naturally this fascination waned. It took over twenty years, but wane it did…and ultimately we broke up. Maybe we spent too much time with one another; it wasn’t the wood, it was me, I don’t know. But other businesses caught my eye and I went for years without thinking of my first love.

During the break up I continued to read articles and publications about woodworking. I always admired things built by others and I did my best to encourage and compliment. I always found it odd when many of the elitist publications began to call woodworking joinery. To me it was like calling driving automobile operation, or eating was consuming nourishment; just a fancy way to describe a simple task. Would I now refer to myself a joiner?

But with each passing year the logic of this term makes more sense. Everything comes down to joinery. A piece of wood kept indoors will last forever, but once you construct something from it, the connections (if made poorly) will fail. The same can be said for how we live our lives; if our connections with others are made poorly or not maintained, they will also fail. Alone we are simply a piece of wood, but through joinery we can become a beautiful masterpiece!

Friday, March 8, 2013

Forgetting


I could iron clothes in my sleep. This is not something that I necessarily want to brag about, it’s simply a fact of my life. Yes, I am domestically gifted, but there are many tasks that each of us do daily that require little concentration or attention to detail. I'm sure that some are much more important than my household chores, but I use this time to plan my day and beat a few dead horses killed in the days and weeks before.

This morning I used the iron and its hissing steam as white noise while I prioritized my day. I’m no busier than the average person, but most of what I was attempting to pull together today was an exceptionally eclectic and random mix; multiple businesses, volunteer boards and family woes. And then it hit me! A fleeting image of my forgotten homework lying neatly on the dining room table; me, standing in the school lunch line with no money in my pockets, loaded tray in hand; my daughter, standing in front of the school impatiently checking her watch and looking down an empty street. I had forgotten something major…but what?

When it finally hit me I had to smile. What I had allowed to sneak past me was a date that I had actually been trying to forget for quite some time. How long I had been trying to forget is really not as important as the fact that it had finally happened. I had forgotten to be sad on the 10th anniversary of my brother’s death.

I won’t try to tell you that I hadn’t thought of this date at all in the previous months, but I will add that it had not filled me with the same level of dread that it had before. This was not a date that he and I shared or celebrated, it was an anniversary created when he left. It was almost like adding another birthday, but for all the wrong reasons. We only need one, and I will happily dance on yours again this year as I celebrate your life.