Momentum

If you spend enough time speaking with any business person, whether from a small or large company, they will tell you they believe in momentum.  Good or bad.  What I mean is when things start going well, in a funny way, your luck starts running along the same line.  Things that could go either way tend to fall your way.  In reverse, it can also happen when things start going badly.

OK, what can we do with that?

It is interesting the way the world works sometimes.  I have a friend who moved back to the state of Iowa in the last few years, and continues to be amazed by the way people treat each other here.  Time and again, I hear positive stories about how they were treated in grocery stores, restaurants, by repairmen and shop owners. I am not surprised as these are the exact type of people I grew up with.  Orrin Black, the grocer, who let me sign for groceries as a college kid and take care of the bill when I could. Rob Marget , who would let me repay a loan at the bank on my terms. Bill Schumaker, the high school principal who allowed me to address the student body when I thought people were acting poorly.  These were the people and stories that I grew up with, so none of this surprised me.

I went home for lunch today and caught the tail end of an episode of “American Pickers.”  In this episode Mike and Frank picked a couple of hand painted tent sides from the old sideshow days.  They paid several hundred dollars for them, and were able to sell them for ten thousand dollars.  It was time for high-fives all around. It was a great story, but then, the better story occurred. They went back to the person who had sold them the pieces and gave him half of their earnings.  Sure, you can be cynical and say this was done for the television audience, but I believe at least part of this story comes from their Iowa background and a desire to do the right thing.

In our family wanderings, we’ve lived in several cities, sometimes in places where each night the news told of the large number of drive-by shootings and other types of violence which had happened throughout the day.  I know this is now part of our culture, but I love the fact that in Iowa, there are more stories about the hit and run driver who felt so badly about it he turned himself in, and oh, by the way, the victim found it in her heart to forgive him; the family whose father is killed in Parkersburg in the worst of situations and spoke first about forgiveness.  Accidental?  I don’t think so.  I think this is Iowa momentum and it is who we are.  Others might say that we are naive, even backwards, but I spent ten years fighting to move back here and much of it was because of things just like this. Iowa has a positive personal momentum, and this is where I want to be.

If this were not a good enough story, momentum happens personally, too. As I begin creating things in my shop, and people see these projects, they ask about them and then want to place an order to buy things.  Sara has begun to get her quilting business up and going and her list of project request is already enough to carry her through the first six months of 2013. 

Momentum is what it is all about.  You can survive with no momentum, or negative momentum, or you can go out and create positive momentum.  I will tell you which I suggest. Now, you should probably know that I grew up in a community whose slogan was, “Just Naturally Friendlier.” Get out there and be the beginning of positive momentum.

Countdown

I am headed to the shop tonight and I am all sorts of excited.  Don’t get me wrong, I love spending time with family, friends, and my kids, but time in the shop … wow.  My bet is we all feel like that. 

Did you ever stop to think what you would do differently if your life were a countdown, though?  Would you live differently or would your life still look as it does today?

This idea has been imagined before.  There is a movie called “In Time.” The premise is that you pay for everything with time and you are paid in time.  And then, there is the song, “Live Like You Were Dying” by Tim McGraw.  But really, what would you do? 

When I build furniture, like my daughter’s bookcase, or the Settle I finished for Sara not long ago, I think about the fact that I am building items which will be around after I am gone.  And then I think about the bedroom set my dad built in high school which my sister has in her home. My father-in-law built a corner cabinet which is now proudly displayed in our home.  I think about the cutting boards I have been asked to make as door prizes for a winter fundraiser.  I may never know where they have gone and it almost feels like I’m sending a message off in a bottle. There are many things like this which have visible effects long after we no longer think about them.  Our words and actions can have the same effect on others.

I remember a woman named Marcia, who worked in the paint department at a store I managed.  She asked me a question in passing one day and I had responded curtly, not even thinking, just passing by.  Several minutes later, someone found me and said Marcia was on the sales floor in tears.  When I got to her, she told me that what I had said to her had hit so hard she couldn’t stop crying.  Honestly, at that point, I didn’t remember what I had said; Marcia had to tell me what those words had been.  But you can believe I still remember them today.

Our lives are often so transitory that we affect others and don’t pay enough attention to recognize what the effect was. Too much of my life feels this way. 

If I were living on a clock, with a visible countdown of the time I had left, I think that is the biggest difference I would make.  I would ensure that every time that I spoke with someone, the conversation would be clear, no matter how long it took.  But, guess what, I can do that right now, I just need to focus.  The people I would work the toughest on this for would be family and friends.  They’ve put up with the worst of me and it seems only be fair for them to enjoy the best I can offer.

Now, I will still go to the shop. That time is precious is precious to me, but I can ask more questions and take more time.  As the Holiday season approaches this is a good time to consider the importance of paying attention and taking time to communicate well.  We can all work to take better care of each other.

And then, maybe just for kicks I will go and ride a bull name Fu Manchu. 

Who knows?

Bumps and Bruises

If you have experienced my woodworking you know I do things quite differently than what is considered normal by many standards.  I tend to use extremely dissimilar woods in the same project.  An example would be the armoire I built for Sara out of tiger maple and medium stained cherry.  Right next to each other, I used a very white wood, and a very deep red wood.  Another example is the Settle I finished earlier this year out of white maple and walnut. Again, I incorporated a very light/white wood next to a dark wood.

The other thing which shows up in my woodworking is that I have a tendency to use woods the industry either considers substandard, or at least did at one time.  I love the look of my shop cabinets which are made of pine and knotty alder. The tiger maple in the armoire is a second example of the same idea.  The character of these woods shows imperfections which is what I consider the beauty of the wood. 

When I was still in the lumber business, we were forever running into customers who wanted “perfect” lumber.  No blemishes, no imperfections, no color variations.  Boring.  Nope, not enough emphasis - BORING.  Trees, like people, grow over tens of years, some over hundreds of years, and when you look at the lumber that comes out of them: every variation in grain and every mark has something to do with the environment at a time in the tree’s life.  But again, just like people, beauty comes from the differences, not the sameness.

My grandfather was very important in my life.  My father died when I was very young and grandpa stepped in to do all he could to make sure I grew up as the right kind of person.  He was a laborer, not a professional, but he was very wise about the world and how to actually get things done.  I learned an unbelievable amount from him.  As a child, I remember looking at his weather-worn skin and knowing there was a story in every wrinkle. The life he lived played out on his face and in his hands.

Now I have come to the point where there are several years behind me and the person looking out of the mirror at me in the morning is much older than I think he should be. I look at myself, and my hands, and all of the bumps and scars, and I know that they all tell a story.  Whether it is about stitches earned building a deck on a house in Des Moines, or discoloration from too many summers as a lifeguard with the belief that the sun may be hard on others, but not me, it all tells a story. We all have stories which are told by our bumps and bruises, scars and imperfections.

In a time when it seems like so many are looking for homogeneity - or beauty without flaw; I to honor the scars and bruises.  They are part of how we got to where we are today, and are part of the beauty which defines each of us.  Whether in woodworking, or in life, I recognize the imperfections as beauty marks, signs of how things came to be.

Look around you for the imperfections that came from bumps and bruises; the scars which come from a life well lived.  Look and see beauty in each of them.