When Fear Dissipates, Nothing Remains

A while back, I wrote about taking on a home improvement project that had haunted me for over a decade.

I removed a hack job of corrugated steel sheets that had risked trapping water under a second story deck any time it rained or the air was thick with fog.

It wasn't pretty.

Last weekend, four months to the day since facing that fear, I finished the deck project. It looks beautiful, feels strong and sturdy, and has certainly been a source of pride this past week.

Here's what I learned in the process:

Reality rarely matches the worst-case scenario that our imaginations find all too easy; though sometimes it does

Facing reality is easier than holding onto the demons in our heads; facing reality abolishes those demons, even those worst-case scenarios; it can't be any other way

The cliche about a journey beginning with a thousand steps is true, and brilliant; get started on the journey; look for a Northstar, but expect the path to meander along the way; a stepping stone sometimes only appears on the faith of a step taken

People want to help you; what you think of as a burden to another can be the perfect thing they need to give their day some meaning and purpose

The cliche that its about the journey, not the destination is also true; the project ended with a fade to black, not with fireworks and a parade

The mind constantly seeks to be engaged and satisfaction is fleeting; when the last deck screw was in place, and the celebratory beer bottle cracked open, the discussion quickly led to what's next -- what's the next project, or fear, or demon to tackle

I learned a lot during this process. I learned a lot about hardware, soft woods, and power tools. I learned about collaboration and compromise, and the power of care and attention. I learned about my limits and the value in calling it quit for the day, and about the consequences to one's self and one's body of work when pushing things too far.

Most of all, I learned in a very real and practical way about the power of consistency. Showing up every day to move the project forward. Sometimes it was just about logistics like figuring out how to transport a dozen and a half eighteen foot two-by-sixes, or sawing a straight edge ten feet off the ground. Most often it was about spending a few hours on my knees with a drill and driver, or with my arms over my head with a paint roller. 

I'm glad it's done. While the sense of accomplishment is real, it's the relief that lingers. The momentum lingers too...as I become curious about what I can do next to make my home feel a little bit cared for.