Breakfast has a way of setting the tone of your whole day. As I have recently taken to planning all our meals around emptying the pantry, I decided on pumpkin pancakes, and a side of bacon. After defrosting the bacon and heating my oven up to 450, we were ready to get cooking. I believe cast iron is the key to a perfect breakfast and so I have an assortment of pans to choose from. Today called for my pancake pan and grill pan, so I got them up to temperature while grinding some coffee. With the exception of a little overcooking on one of my pancakes, I think we came out pretty well. My wife was happy, my daughter was happy, we were all full and we had 2 less boxes to worry about packing before we move at the end of the month. George Clooney was jamming Man of Constant Sorrow on TV and all was well with the universe. And here's where my problem came in.
You know that squealing I mentioned, coming from my lawn mower the other day? Turns out its caused by a loose or slipping belt on the drive pulley. Now that I was full of breakfast calories, it was time to start earning lunch by way of projects and chores. My plan was to service the lawnmower and put in an hour worth of packing, then we'd run our weekly errands. Piece of cake, I thought. Armed as I was with the knowledge from 2 YouTube videos, an exploded 3D diagram, and the Craftsman instruction manual, no way was this going to take me more than an hour. Not to mention progress pictures for a solid start to the Man vs. House 2014 season.
That hour came and went, and what I walked away with was a pulled shoulder muscle, throbbing fingers, and a half a dozen ways how not to remove a rear wheel drive pulley belt cover. I was bested, defeated, and shamed by a 1/16" thick molded piece of plastic no bigger than a phone book. The instructions had been straightforward:
1) Remove securing bolts
2) Slide debris cover off
3) Adjust, tighten, or replace belt as needed
4) Put everything back the way you found it.
Remember how I said that one of the skills I am thankful for is being able to build/fix things? Well I never said I was any good at it. Now I know what you're going to say "Chase, have you ever done anything like this before? No need to be hard on yourself if you had no experience." That's what instructions are for. I don't know everything, and don't pretend to. I rely heavily on Google and booklets full of expert advice to get me through projects daily. Sure, I'll agree that experience makes the all the difference, but any slack jawed, simpering primate can follow 4 clear instructions.
Sadly for me, that did not hold true this day. I changed my stance, grip, and used several combinations of tools, but to no avail. It's not like I'm disarming a tactical warhead here. There is 1 bolt and 3 plastic clips that held my objective in place, and I had negotiated them all for 60 minutes solid. Anger started to take the wheel, my eyes flashed green and I started making up words to express being beaten by an inanimate object. Maybe if I just threw some Hulk rage at it, I would get it loose. Twist it, bend it, I didn't care at this point. Hardware is my domain regardless of its shape, and I am not about to lose. This is when I felt my shoulder falter and was sure I'd pulled something. The cover remained unchanged. Well done, imbecile, I thought. Now your shoulder smarts, your back is screaming, and you've accomplished nothing. You could have been packing this whole time. You've wasted time. You've failed, quit and go inside.
My wife called me out as soon as she noted the tone of my voice, and as I have been practicing, I told her what I was feeling and why I was feeling it. Defuse from your emotions, they are what you feel, not who you are. Can I get a show of hands of how many people lose a competition then spend their day smiling over how good it felt to compete? Bullshit, you play to win, or don't play. For the remainder of the day I felt distant, and withdrawn. Try to imagine fallout from an anger powered bomb. I went through the motions, but shame was my constant companion. One of the few things I fancy myself good at, I couldn't do. I had run out of time and accomplished nothing. That same hour could have been spent doing something with 100% chance of being productive, but that's not what I did.
After we returned from our few errands, my wife and daughter relaxed on the couch while I isolated myself upstairs and scrolled mindlessly through Facebook. Some time later I was called downstairs because my daughter wanted to go outside and play. Heh, I thought, something I can't fail at. I slipped my daughter's little shoes on and giant stepped her down the garage stairs to the concrete, then out onto the driveway dappled with late afternoon sun. While she busied herself collecting various front yard treasures, I pulled a bottle of bubble soap from my wife's trunk and set to removing the safety foil with my pocket knife. With the soapy little wand pinched between my fingers, I sat down beside my daughter, whose hands were full of various weeds and pieces of mulch. She was elated to show me what she had found in the past 90 seconds. I genuinely smiled for the first time since I had turned my lawn mower over 5 hours earlier. I blew a bunch of bubbles and my daughter squealed and swatted them. Then I slowed my breath and blew a bigger one. Why am I mad, I thought? The day is beautiful, I'm with my family, and all is well with the universe.
Stop...
Reboot...
Why are you mad? Because I have to admit there is something I can't do
Why? Because I lack the strength/knowledge/tools
Why? Because I have never had to replace a drive belt before
Why? Because I have never owned a self propelled mower before.
Why does admitting this make you angry? I need to be able to service my tools
Why? I consider it something I am proficient at. Whether it be true or not
Why? Pride
WOAH
Pride of life is a sin. Wrath is a sin, and I suffered them both today. I need help. I need my Dad. I need Dan. I need another set of eyes or another set of hands. I cannot complete this project alone.
Until we meet again
-Chase
Showing posts with label why game. Show all posts
Showing posts with label why game. Show all posts
Saturday, April 12, 2014
Thursday, April 10, 2014
That validation bit
The Offspring did a song called "She's got issues" one of the lyrics
states: "She talks about closure and that validation bit. I don't mean
to be insensitive, but I really hate that shit." I asked my wife one
time what that meant, because apart from enjoying the song and
Offspring's body of work in general, I never thought to look it up. She
explained that it was validating your existence through the acceptance
of someone else. In the song's case, girl has broken up with old
boyfriend and wants to be accepted by new boyfriend with frequency. I
thought, why would anyone need to do that? Without realizing it, I'd
been passively doing it most of my life.
As a baby you are validated by your parents with praise for rolling over, pointing at da-da and finding your head with both hands. In school your teachers validate you with praise for a solid book report, or figuring out what the hell "x" is on the 1st try. I never was any good at that, myself. Parents continue validating you into adolescences as you show interest in hobbies like sports, music, or underwater basket weaving. As you enter into the workforce teachers' praise is replaced by manager's praise for a job well done, or putting in that overtime on a Saturday. Then there's spousal praise, and while it cannot take the place of your parents, after you move out and don't see them every day, it's harder to come by. I interact with mine 2-3 times a month. Here is where my problem arose.
For 23 out of the 29 years I've been drawing breath, somebody, somewhere at some time has given me an atta-boy for good work, or cuffed me across the neck for bad work. I was raised and trained to expect it and so tailored my efforts to get it. My current manager called me "achievement driven." in my last meeting. I'll agree with that, but I responded "Who isn't?" Why would you pass up the satisfaction of a job well done, or the rush you get from realizing you took whatever project was in front of you and kicked its ass. More to the point, your friends, or co-workers know about it. YOU DID IT. I feel like a motivation poster all of a sudden. I cannot fathom why anyone wouldn't want that, but remember everything I know is wrong. There are people in this world who do not know that sensation because they were never taught it. Their best, even their 110% was never good enough, so instead of pushing harder, they gave up. Lets file this with the facts I know are true.
I have learned that the older I get, the less spectacular I become. The list of things I accomplish for the 1st time dwindles and the praise of those around me becomes more difficult to garner. But I am driven by it, my boss said so. I have been trained to thrive on it, haven't I? You do something good, and get a high five, pat on the back, etc, right? No, not right! As that list of 1st time successes gets smaller, the checked off items become part of you. They amount to your skills and abilities. The fact that you can wash a household worth of clothes, change out the sink hardware, and mow the yard all in 1 day isn't worthy of celebration, its just part of your routine. For quite a while I have sought my validation through my projects. Housework, landscaping and cooking comprised the sum of Chase. I would ask my wife, or friends what they thought at every opportunity. I have been labeled a "people pleaser" more than once for this habit. What's worse, when an anime style, sparkly backdrop didn't erupt behind my wife or the company I had cooked dinner for to herald my obvious awesomeness and success, I would retreat and assume my accomplishment wasn't good enough. The reserved response of "That's nice" or "Good chow" seemed lackluster to what my 23 year trained mind was expecting. Surely my wife and friends were holding something back to spare me. They won't tell me I am chocked full of suck to spare my feelings...because they're my friends after all. From this I concluded that if I asked enough times, eventually I would get the fireworks and fanfare I felt were warranted.
STOP...
REBOOT...
What are you afraid of? Letting the people I care about down
Why? Because I should never let that happen
Why? Because I choose to be better than that
Why? Because the people I love deserve no less
Why? Because they would do the same for me
Why? Because they love me
WOAH
If the the people I'm working hard for love me already, then the fear is unsubstantiated. I'm not going to let them down, regardless what I do. Trying to validate my existence through others is a waste of time and adds to a neurosis I don't want or need. Asking if my efforts are good enough is defeatist. I am assuming they're not and need someone to tell me otherwise. Hang that nonsense because I know better. My landscaping is damn near pro, my cooking is top shelf. and I can get grass/blood stains out of anything! If that's not good enough for someone, their loss, and I can focus more energy on me. Sound selfish? Sure it does, but since my best wasn't good enough for you, I'm no longer obligated to care what you think of me.
Until we me again,
-Chase
As a baby you are validated by your parents with praise for rolling over, pointing at da-da and finding your head with both hands. In school your teachers validate you with praise for a solid book report, or figuring out what the hell "x" is on the 1st try. I never was any good at that, myself. Parents continue validating you into adolescences as you show interest in hobbies like sports, music, or underwater basket weaving. As you enter into the workforce teachers' praise is replaced by manager's praise for a job well done, or putting in that overtime on a Saturday. Then there's spousal praise, and while it cannot take the place of your parents, after you move out and don't see them every day, it's harder to come by. I interact with mine 2-3 times a month. Here is where my problem arose.
For 23 out of the 29 years I've been drawing breath, somebody, somewhere at some time has given me an atta-boy for good work, or cuffed me across the neck for bad work. I was raised and trained to expect it and so tailored my efforts to get it. My current manager called me "achievement driven." in my last meeting. I'll agree with that, but I responded "Who isn't?" Why would you pass up the satisfaction of a job well done, or the rush you get from realizing you took whatever project was in front of you and kicked its ass. More to the point, your friends, or co-workers know about it. YOU DID IT. I feel like a motivation poster all of a sudden. I cannot fathom why anyone wouldn't want that, but remember everything I know is wrong. There are people in this world who do not know that sensation because they were never taught it. Their best, even their 110% was never good enough, so instead of pushing harder, they gave up. Lets file this with the facts I know are true.
I have learned that the older I get, the less spectacular I become. The list of things I accomplish for the 1st time dwindles and the praise of those around me becomes more difficult to garner. But I am driven by it, my boss said so. I have been trained to thrive on it, haven't I? You do something good, and get a high five, pat on the back, etc, right? No, not right! As that list of 1st time successes gets smaller, the checked off items become part of you. They amount to your skills and abilities. The fact that you can wash a household worth of clothes, change out the sink hardware, and mow the yard all in 1 day isn't worthy of celebration, its just part of your routine. For quite a while I have sought my validation through my projects. Housework, landscaping and cooking comprised the sum of Chase. I would ask my wife, or friends what they thought at every opportunity. I have been labeled a "people pleaser" more than once for this habit. What's worse, when an anime style, sparkly backdrop didn't erupt behind my wife or the company I had cooked dinner for to herald my obvious awesomeness and success, I would retreat and assume my accomplishment wasn't good enough. The reserved response of "That's nice" or "Good chow" seemed lackluster to what my 23 year trained mind was expecting. Surely my wife and friends were holding something back to spare me. They won't tell me I am chocked full of suck to spare my feelings...because they're my friends after all. From this I concluded that if I asked enough times, eventually I would get the fireworks and fanfare I felt were warranted.
STOP...
REBOOT...
What are you afraid of? Letting the people I care about down
Why? Because I should never let that happen
Why? Because I choose to be better than that
Why? Because the people I love deserve no less
Why? Because they would do the same for me
Why? Because they love me
WOAH
If the the people I'm working hard for love me already, then the fear is unsubstantiated. I'm not going to let them down, regardless what I do. Trying to validate my existence through others is a waste of time and adds to a neurosis I don't want or need. Asking if my efforts are good enough is defeatist. I am assuming they're not and need someone to tell me otherwise. Hang that nonsense because I know better. My landscaping is damn near pro, my cooking is top shelf. and I can get grass/blood stains out of anything! If that's not good enough for someone, their loss, and I can focus more energy on me. Sound selfish? Sure it does, but since my best wasn't good enough for you, I'm no longer obligated to care what you think of me.
Until we me again,
-Chase
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