Just
before Thanksgiving, I was trying to figure out how to cut a 10 foot,
two-by-six board down to the size it needed to be for installing as a shelf. The
electric saws I was accustomed to using were occupied, so my tools were two saw
horses, an electric skill saw and some clamps. There was a bit of pressure to
just figure it out, quickly; this was four months into a five-month volunteer
building experience, and the builder instructors were encouraging us to fly the
nest and stop asking so many questions.
I had used these tools separately
before and I had cut a board down to size before, but I had never before cut a
10-foot, two-by-six board down to size using these tools. I positioned the
board evenly between the saw horses. It didn’t seem quite right, but we were
supposed to install at least one shelf before the approaching end of the day
and I needed to get the damn thing cut. Trying to hurry and act confident, I moved
things so that the leverage of each side would be pretty much balanced in the
middle when I finished my cut in mid-air between them. The clamps were useless,
so I grabbed a partner and asked him to hold the longer side to prevent it
flipping up or falling in.
If you’ve had any experience in
carpentry, you’re picturing this with something like a cringe or a face palm.
Seriously? You cut a 100 lb, 10 foot, two-by-six board between the saw horses? Yeah. I mean, I knew there was a risk of
pinching, I just only had one helper and…chose not to think about what would
happen to the saw and probably me if I balanced the board wrong and the shorter
but unsecured side flipped up.
Anyway, preoccupied entirely with
forward momentum, I pulled the trigger. The unsecured side of the board
magically and forcefully pulled away from me as I finished the cut, and I
looked over, surprised, to see that physics had just been defied by the builder
instructor, who was not happy.
So, for those of you who have not
had any experience in carpentry, and/or are as hopeless as I am at coming up
with quick construction solutions based on even the simplest spatial reasoning,
especially under pressure: there is a correct way to configure a long, heavy
board on saw horses for cutting with an electric skill saw. It is with the
longer side supported entirely on both saw horses and the shorter side ready to
fall down, away from you, off the end of the saw horse, harmlessly to the
ground.
I have a 30-hour OSHA certification
and I know better than to do, like, so many things on a construction site. Also,
I value my own life, and the lives of the people around me. So why did I not
just take time to think things through until I was certain what I was doing was
safe? Because I was afraid, in this case of taking too much time.
There are emergencies when, truly,
time is of the essence and the risks of slowing down for thoughtful, creative problem
solving far outweigh the risks of ploughing forward on a wing and a prayer.
Like when you’re being rocketed while running for cover, or pushing out a baby
with the cord around his neck, or getting an IV into someone who is bleeding
out. I’m really not diminishing this- I’ve done two of those things, and diligently
trained for the third. Of course there are real and serious emergencies.
But most of the time, we’re not being
rocketed by terrorists or giving birth and it’s better to slow down and think
with the part of our brain that enjoys life and creates things. So what if I
didn’t get the shelf installed that day? I was volunteering, and I want to
learn how to work with wood. I should have taken some time to learn how to do some
cool things with woodworking tools, maybe not installed the shelf until a few
days later when it was beveled and shaped and stained to look like cherry wood.
Why do I allow myself to
operate in emergency-mode when it isn’t necessary, and even put myself in harm's way to do it? I think it’s partially conditioning.
Marketing people figured out how to manipulate consumers by appealing to base
sensibilities a long time ago, and manipulation is becoming mainstreamed as communication. I hear it from the media, politicians, religious leaders,
you name it - and fear is a great base sensibility to appeal to for manipulation. No time to think things through, it’s an emergency. Buy more guns,
kick out the immigrants, be wary of refugees, don’t buy red Starbucks cups, stop
eating meat, install CFLs, recycle, don’t buy anything, buy pink stuff, eat less
fat, eat more fat, only eat GMO-free food, save more money, be resilient, floss
your teeth, read the Bible – warning, warning, warning warning.
Warning nothing. Life is going to
unfold until it ends, guaranteed, starting the minute we’re born. Mostly it
will unfold in the rhythmic cycles of waking, eating, pooping, having sex and
sleeping. That’s the main thing. That is
life. All the rest of it is whatever you believe it is - humans trying to
figure out how to keep our shit together, humans trying not to get too bored,
humans working toward enlightenment, humans trying to get to Kolob, whatever.
It doesn’t matter. Life, though, that matters. More than construction deadlines,
more than year over year revenue increase goals, more than religion, more than
everything.
When I’m feeling stressed and
harried, especially this time of year, I’m going to stop and consider what the
emergency is. If I decide there really isn’t one, I’m going to relax and focus on what I
can accomplish with the tools at hand. At the very least I won’t kill myself
for no good reason, and maybe I’ll even create something really cool.
