You can only see the finely wrought details of this moment if you narrow your gaze.
That was this week’s lesson in focus for me. Only it came with a clever corollary.
When you narrow your gaze, you will leave some things out of the picture.
Ah. There’s the rub.
My internal Perfectionist would like for the bed always to be made, the cuisine always to be haute and healthy, the freelance work always to be finished ahead of schedule, and the garden paths to always lay straight and be clearly defined — not full of wild violets, straying apple mint, and monkey grass, for God’s sake. She gets upset when there’s no time to vacuum because work deadlines are not as forgiving as a little dirt on the floor. She freaks out if the laundry pile starts to climb out of the hamper, rising to nearly waist height as it shapes itself into a vaguely sinister swamp-thing cousin.
She loses her temper when she considers having to “waste” at least an hour a day on dishes and kitchen cleanup because there’s no dishwasher and her husband is doing all-nighters writing papers for publication, working toward the holy grail of a graduate degree with no awareness that he’s even indoors most of the time — much less a full appreciation for the state of the kitchen sink.
But really, I’m going to have to let some of that stuff go if I want to continue to write and exercise my creativity and have relationships and truly enjoy life. Maybe I can convince the Perfectionist that her perfectly-coiffed hair is out of place and then lock her in the bathroom when she goes in to check the mirror.
Or I could hold onto it all, and fail miserably at what’s truly important to me. It’s not really important to have sparkling countertops, after all.
How do I know this? Because I’ve been listening to my Granddaddy, who at age 83 or 84 (there’s some uncertainty) tends to dwell on memories of the important stuff whenever he looks back. And he’s never once mentioned that dirty kitchen floor or a sink full of dishes. He mentions pleasant moments with loved ones, moments that made everyone laugh, celebrations that made a place for themselves in his heart and curled up there to warm him on tough, lonely nights.
He mentions creative breakthroughs, those instances where he solved a problem on the farm or invented something new. (Have I mentioned that Granddaddy was an inventor after he retired from farming, and created a fishing lure so spectacular he was featured on the cover of Sports Afield? Yeah. He’s that cool.)
So here’s what I’ve decided to do: let the flat side drag.
This phrase is in our family lexicon. I assume every family with an oral tradition has some stories that have been passed down with words of wisdom attached, and over time they become wise maxims or catchphrases, distilling much in a few words. My storytelling family has enough of these to publish its own glossary.
Here is this particular story:
My great-grandfather, “Pop,” was a traveling Methodist minister. A circuit preacher, they used to be called, going on horseback up into the Southern Appalachians to spread the Good News to hamlets too tiny to have a man of the cloth in residence. In the 1950s, he settled down to one congregation, relatively near the family farm, and his ratty old car made the journey on Sundays. Sometimes he’d be running late and almost there — when a tire would blow.
Apparently this was not an uncommon occurrence. Tire quality was bad, the country roads were poorly maintained, and the family has a notable propensity for tardiness extending even unto the present generation. (Ahem.)
The car would be packed with my mother, and her mother, and a handful of my mother’s siblings and cousins, often one of the smaller ones sitting on my great-grandmother’s or grandmother’s lap, and some would inevitably scream with shock when the tire blew, and the car would lurch alarmingly, and then list to one side like a ship with her keel damaged, dragging. If not for a steadying hand, the vehicle threatened to drift in the lane. It was obvious that the proper thing to do would be to pull over and fix the tire and just go on and be late to the sermon.
But Pop was having none of that.
“Let the flat side drag,” he pronounced, and kept on moving toward his destination, listing all the way.
Pop understood priorities.
So… I want to understand them, too. I think I’d got them straight before. But they change, you see. And so it’s up to me to keep up with the changes. Some things will be done with a minimal investment of time and attention, so that other things, important things, can take a bigger piece of the life pie. Some things will get done badly, or late. Some things will get left out of the picture entirely. Because, really, life is too short.
It’s time to remember that there are circumstances when it’s just fine — and even necessary — to let the flat side drag.
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Interesting. Will you bring more family wisdom in the future?
Hmm… I don’t know, Diana. Weird that the family history stuff has come up twice in one week. Let’s just say I don’t plan to make it a habit.
‘Some things will get left out of the picture entirely’ Have just revisited this post. But look what remains in the picture. The images in your words and your pictures create good memories for us, your loyal readers.
Elephant’s Eye´s last blog ..August daisy chain walk
This was very timely. A (major) home improvement project involving ladders and an awning gone somewhat awry this weekend, with a result that is not perfect. But it’s adequate. I must let the flat side drag. Thank you. Thank you.
Laurrie´s last blog ..Flowerbed Art: a Garden Oops
Laurrie, I’m glad the post could help you. That sounds so trying. My parents did a huge build-on to their house when I was a teen still living at home, and I have a well-honed appreciation for the patience and acceptance required when building anything.
Brilliant post. Too often we get caught up in the “requirements” of others – to be “perfect”.
Better to be yourself and be happy. Grandad gave wise and useful advice.
Merrilee´s last blog ..Creativity Workshop: Opening day
Thank you, Merrilee. Some of that time being carved out by letting the flat side drag is to be available for the Creativity Workshop, and more writing. Yay to more writing!
love it! what a wonderful moral of the story( both yours and you wise pop’s)!
priceless meredith!
elsa´s last blog ..happy may!
Thank you so much, Elsa. I’m blushing.
the photo is *fantastic* !
elsa´s last blog ..happy may!
Oh, I’m glad you like it. That is my best insect photo yet, I think. I was amazed at the detail on him (especially visible when one enlarges the photo).
This is so true. Oh that we could do every little thing we want to do and do it perfectly. Well we can’t
life is too short. We have to pick and choose, or scatter our forces to the wind.
But seriously… I do have to get a new camera. Your pictures rock.
gemma´s last blog ..
I definitely do not want to “scatter [my] forces to the wind,” Gemma. And yet I feel I have that tendency sometimes. Ah, life is all about learning! So glad for that.
Thank you for the compliment on the photo. This one might be proof that you don’t need a fancy camera. All my shots are taken on a point-&-shoot — which is getting quite dated, as F. reminded me recently. Who cares how old it is when it works for me?
Great pic. Even better post. It was wonderful. I just knew that every family has stories like that. My blog title is a family story. jim
Jim Groble´s last blog ..furry friends?
I’m glad to hear that my family is not alone in this, Jim. One of the great positive aspects of my family is their storytelling traditions.
I read that post about your blog title! You chose such an unusual one, that my curiosity had to be satisfied sometime.
Meredith – you know, before I moved to SC, I was a wall st investment banker and your traits sound exactly like a ‘me’. I finally decided that I too needed to just can it with the really unimportant stuff because I certainly wasn’t going to say one day, man I wished I’d have gone to one more meeting and shined, or man I wish I’d have mopped the floor a few more times. Moving here was a huge step, and the rest is day by day. I still can’t leave dishes in the sink though.
Jess´s last blog ..Star Jasmine With Or Without You
Were you really, Jess? See, that’s a wonderful thing to learn, for me, because it makes your personality so much rounder and more mysterious. Keep in mind that part of me is only the Perfectionist voice — there’s also the Hippie Girl voice, and the Dreamer, and the Artist Child, and the Censor, and the Rebel… oh, there’s a lot of imaginary people in my brain, LOL.
I am glad you took that huge step toward living life in line with your priorities, hon, and not least because I get to enjoy your garden in progress and snippets of your charmed life in Charleston.
I think we are all like that… multifaceted, or at least the interesting people in this world. I am also a world traveller, have been in a working mine in Bolivia, spent a number of years as a ‘sex and the city’ type girl (though I worked a heck of a lot more then them), and also built my own cabin in the woods in upstate new york, to get away from the other ‘me’.
. I also own 100 pair of shoes. At least. And I wear them too. I’ve been known to be out in my garden now, dressed to the nines in 4 inch heels watering my garden because I see a few plants need it, and I don’t want them to suffer while I’m out drinking martini’s.
All this and I grew up in the sticks in a 1790 plantation house with no neighbors near us and never wore shoes some entire summers unless forced!
One of the best things I find about reading blogs, and honestly the blogs that I tend to go back to every week, are those where I find the personality behind the blog interesting. I want those people to come over for dinner! Blogging is wild this way, because you do actually get to know people, but you don’t know them know them.
jess´s last blog ..Wordless Wednesday: Pretty Shots
I love it! I’ll have to remember that phrase!
In my house, we let the flat side drag a lot! In practical terms (housework!), we’re simply too busy. I’m sure there is always a way to carve out more time, but like you, I’d rather spend my time doing other things that are more important to me. We used to have a cleaning person come and in an effort to save money, decided to try our own system of cleaning day. Unfortunately, that has fallen by the wayside soooo much, and the clutter was just horrendous. I mean, I’m not a total neatfreak, but when I went away to visit my sister alone for the weekend, I literally had fleeting feelings of anxiety about coming home to a pigsty. Anyway, I decided that life is not only too short to spend it cleaning when we have so little free time as a family, but also too short to “pretend” that we’re actually going to do it and getting pissed when it doesn’t get done. Can I tell you how freaking happy I am that a new cleaning person is coming tomorrow??!!!!
Wendy´s last blog ..A turtle, a toad, a mouse, and 7 geese
Oh, Wendy, I’m thrilled for you (and only the teeniest bit jealous, really)! I do not have the excuse of children to clean up after. Actually, my hat is totally off to all the creative moms out there, who are painting and writing and gardening and making music, while still managing to help grow these young souls. Whenever I hear a mom talk about all she’s up against, I just swallow my complaints, honestly.
Wonderful post, Meredith. So true – finding out what’s really important and making that the priority. Sometimes good enough is just what’s needed.
Talon´s last blog ..Honestly…
I love that last sentence, Talon. You’ve named it perfectly in one.
What a great family story that is – and the phrase “let the flat side drag” fits perfectly with what you are going through.
Lynn´s last blog ..Now 40, trifler, sparkles
Yes, it is a good fit, Lynn. I just need to internalize the advice to myself now.
A perfect read for me today. The little one threw spaghetti sauce in the living room and there’s a big pile of laundry that should have been folded 6 days ago…my vacuum cleaner is malfunctioning and every time I step on a bit of a cheerio I want to cry. That inner perfectionist is throwing a fit, but I can’t seem to muster the energy to tame her AND work on my writing, reading, creativity, and parenting. Sigh.
You tell sotries so wonderfully…I loved reading your words today
Alisha´s last blog ..52 Projects
I’m glad that gave you a bit of a lift, Alisha. I’d probably want to cry about the cheerio bits, too. If it makes you feel any better, F. tracked red, clayey mud into our living room last evening, and I’ve had to wait for it to dry before I could tackle it this morning, for fear I’d just mash it deeper into the carpet otherwise.
It’s important for you to keep working on your writing and creativity, I’m convinced. You have a great talent and meaningful things to say.
Oh! Red clay! Poor you. And thank you for your kind words. I will keep writing
Alisha´s last blog ..Writing Workshop: Issues and Interests
Good to hear that! The clay is only a memory now, btw.
Great family phrase–I love it. That perfectionist is a slave driver, and I always have to take her to task. Recently, I was lying on the floor doing yoga, and my eye fell on a dusty ceiling fan. That was when I had the sudden realization that even though I would like to have a spotless house (and clean ceiling fans) I don’t want to spend the time it would take to keep my house spotless. I want to keep the house livably clean, but any extra time I have I want to spend reading or writing, or doing something fun with the family or the pets…anything but cleaning. A spotless house, for me, is not a priority, and therefore I should not feel guilty about not having a spotless house.
Kathy´s last blog ..Procrastination, Thy Name is Kathy
Good way to put it, Kathy. I’m not interested in having a spotless house, either. Although it can’t be on the wrong side of the chaos line, either. I think you know what I mean.
We switched the ceiling fan blade direction last night, and one of the fans began to drop little dust bunnies, which came gently floating down, visually indicting my housekeeping failure. But it just made F. and me laugh. I suppose that’s something.
Oh Meredith,
I was cracking up as I read this. It really strikes close to home and you’re a great writer.
Thank you for starting my day off with a fire cracker,
Sharon Lovejoy Writes from Sunflower House and a Little Green Island
I’m so glad you enjoyed it, Sharon. How thrilling to hear that I made you laugh!
Beautiful writing Meredith. Thanks for a lovely moment on this Monday afternoon. I just posted about the undone laundry too. http://lifeoutofdoors.com/2010/05/03/gardenaholics-anonymous/
I think it must be the time of year.
Thank you for that compliment, Kelly. Undone laundry is the bane of my existence.
Very humorous post Meredith! I’m on a first name basis with swamp-thing laundry pile at the moment. Both the dogs are shedding enough fur to make a small litter of puppies, and I’m constantly torn between spending a day spring-cleaning, or going out in the garden for spring-planting. I figure at the moment that spring will evolve into summer if I don’t get out there, but nobody will care if the spring-cleaning isn’t done in spring (well, I will…but I’m trying not to…but it’s difficult to let it go). Clearly I either need to clone myself, or learn to let my flat side drag too!
Curbstone Valley Farm´s last blog ..Calochortus albus
What’s his name? Swamp thang?
Cloning does sound a good option at this time of year — either that or rearranging the rules of the space-time continuum to support multiple interests and a fountain of newfound energy. I empathize about the dog hair thing. I *did* get to the baseboards with the vacuum today (miracle) — because the spring-shed cat fur there was starting to make it look like we live in padded rooms, without defined corners and edges.
p.s. That last emoticon is the closest I can come in the virtual realm to the Edvard Munch “Scream” face.
Meredith, I enjoyed this post tremendously! I’ll have to remember to let the flat side drag, too! Although I’ll also have to keep a brown paper bag handy when the perfectionist in my starts to hyperventilate!
kimberly´s last blog ..A Closer Look
So glad you enjoyed it, Kimberly. If only we could all send our inner Perfectionists off to a desert island for a few months, just long enough to thoroughly enjoy the gardening season, at least.
Meredith, you tell a great story lady! And you are correct: priorities and they change according to the season and some things simply have to slide. I do have one recommendation that might save having to clean the floor too often… we don’t wear shoes in our home; they come off at the door and barefoot works or a pair of slippers. See how easy to have one priority become a lesser factor.
I await your next tale.
Diana´s last blog ..Chinese Tree Peony, Paeonia suffruticosa
Diana, I tried to institute that rule when we first moved here, and we do generally observe it except that (a) I often go barefoot in the garden, (b) we don’t take them off when we just pop in for a second to get twine or a bowl or a pair of scissors (a garden shed is sorely needed), (c) we traverse the house from front to back a lot because there are actually two gardens — well, three if you count the fall extension bed, and (d) we are forgetful, impetuous, lazy people.
Your comment has inspired me to renew my efforts on this one, though, if only so that it’s easier to bellydance barefoot in the mornings without fretting about the state of the carpet!
Oh yes – a great way to set priorities – ask yourself what you will remember about this day when you’re in your 80s. As a grandmother and someone on the other side of midlife I can promise you that the older you get the more you want to remember the days in the garden, or the days writing, or painting, or sewing, or cooking, or just enjoying the view. I rarely think of the days that my house was in perfect shape, but I do remember with joy the day a friend stopped by to find that the house was a wreck but that I had nearly finished making my daughter’s wedding dress. I don’t sew very often now, but it’s even easier to ignore the housework when I’m outside in the garden!
Ginny´s last blog ..Fly away
Ginny, what a brilliant way to approach life! I am in love with this comment. Thank you so much for taking the time to share that. I may just add that to my midday routine, as a check-in at lunch, “What will I remember about this day when I’m in my 80s?” Beautiful wisdom.
It’s so lovely that you made your daughter’s wedding dress, too. Poignant and sweet.
What a great expression and story too. As an artist, I’m constantly trying to keep my priorities straight, art first, housework way down the list. Until it gets to what I call “knee deep” and then I give it quick go round. After all, I find complete chaos gets in the way of creativity too. There’s a balance in there somewhere….
Helen at Summer House´s last blog ..A Study in Contrast or How I Created Two Very Different Mosaics from the Same Shards
The “knee deep” part had me laughing, Helen. A nice way to start off the morning. I think of my house as “rotating chaos” sometimes — you know, the bathroom’s all sparkly, but the kitchen needs serious help.
Hi Meredith~~ I’ve missed many of your blog posts. Yikes.
Good words, well written.
Don’t worry about it, Grace. I’m way behind on my garden blog reading, and that’s just the season, I think. Glad you stopped by!
In case it helps, I thought I’d mention that I was just reading a book at the bookstore about dogs, and it reminded me that we need a little less cleanliness in our lives than we strive for (somehow, this also related to dogs, but I am fuzzy on that part right now).
I can see the car poking along from the story. Love the image.
elizabeth´s last blog ..we all sleep under the same moon
I have a feeling those car rides were something else.
You’re probably right about the cleanliness. I think my standards are set ridiculously high in some areas. F.’s presence has definitely been a moderating influence. Not that he is in any way to be likened to a dog. 