We built this, y’all. That may not seem like a big deal to some people – but I am pretty psyched. Here’s why:
We moved into this house at the beginning of 2020, and my priority was filling it with the things we needed like beds, desks and a dining room table. To stay on budget, a LOT of what I bought last year was the kind of furniture that comes in a box and that you put together. I have a drawer full of Allen wrenches to prove it.
Last year, when I put together my dining room table and chairs (all by myself), it took me an entire night – like the whole night, from dinner time until after midnight. I toiled away for hours, listening to podcasts, and manually screwing in each screw with the dinky little Allen wrench. I didn’t know any better, and I was proud of the accomplishment. (I still am!)
Then, when it came time assemble my coffee table, I was out of my league. The box said that it was a two person job, and it looked like it was going to take a lot more than Allen wrenches to put together. A good friend and his son came over with their toolbox and knocked it out in less than 30 minutes. It felt like a miracle!
A few months ago, my cousin Tiffany was here for a visit, and noticed a few little things that she could fix easily. After digging in my little bitty toolbox for a few seconds, she found what she needed and got me all fixed up.
Fast forward to this spring when I decided that I wanted to have a patio set – a place where a few friends could hang out or where I could hang out to read/watch the dog play after a long day. I found a cute set (on sale, obviously), ordered it to be delivered, and waited for the box to arrive.
When it came, Diana was excited to help me put it together. I pulled the pieces out and found not one, but three Allen wrenches included. There were no instructions included (eek!), but we took heart when we noticed a photo of the assembled set on the side of the box. Each of us grabbed an Allen wrench and felt sure we could knock it out in short order.
Except, we couldn’t. The Allen wrenches fit the screws, but with our manual labor, it was taking what felt like forever to make even the smallest of progress. My little assistant grew frustrated and bored with the project. We tried using my drill to speed up the assembly, but we didn’t have the right drill bit. I heard myself telling Diana things that I have heard other people say to me like “This would be easy if we had the right tool” and “We can do hard things.”
Finally, I decided to listen to what I was telling her and GO GET THE RIGHT TOOL. Instead of struggling and toiling and laboring and exerting my sheer will on these stupid screws, wouldn’t it be easier to go get the right drill bit?
So, the next afternoon, I went to a local hardware store, Allen wrench in hand, and asked the lovely older gentleman there to help me find the right drill bit to make easier work of the patio set assembly. In short order, he expertly guided me to the right bit, and for $2.45, I had what I needed. (Side note: local hardware stores are just the best. That man treated me like he had nowhere else to be, and probably would have spend all afternoon with me if I needed!)
Sure enough, when we used the right drill bit, the patio set came together really quickly, and we were sitting on it relaxing, just as I envisioned.
While I sat there, I couldn’t help but think of how this applies to the rest of my life too. How often do I struggle, applying my sheer will against a problem, hoping that it will bend? How long do I work harder than I have to, when getting the right tool and asking the guidance of an expert would move things along much more quickly? How often do I miss the chance to make things easier for myself because I don’t want to pause and consider that there might be a better way?
Now, each time I sit on my patio set, I have a physical reminder to think about these questions – and I have a drawer full of Allen wrenches to remind me of the same things.
Comments