It’s all about the work…

Isn’t it?

There’s a certain sense of satisfaction in a job done, and especially in a job well done. Sometimes it isn’t even about money; it’s just about the work, the process of getting from where you are, to where you want to be. That, in and of itself, is a reward all its own at times.

I found myself thinking that on Sunday as I looked out the back door at the woodpile, safe from the rain that was falling, covered in a tarp I put over it when I finished Saturday night.

I felt the same sense of accomplishment I’d felt years before when putting in the wood up in North Bay. Although that process was a much bigger project, and spanned weeks rather than days, at the end, when that last piece of wood was tucked away in the woodshed, I’d feel like I’d really done something.

It struck me as I sipped my morning coffee and watched the rain fall that, for me, there’s this incredible feeling that goes along with getting a project finished. In being able to see the results of my labors, in having a tangible, visible result, which is sometimes missing in the work I do for a living.

Don’t get me wrong, there’s a sense of accomplishment there too, but it’s different somehow.

There’s something in being able to see, touch, experience in all three dimensions, the fruits of your labors, that to me, is one of the sweetest moments in life.

I don’t know as I’ve really thought about it, exactly this way, in the past. But now that I have, it explains why it was so difficult for me to give up the work with tangible results, and pursue a trade where your results are often invisible to anyone except the programmer who follows you.

I remember like it was yesterday, that day, five years ago after we’d put the last coat of paint on everything and the carpet installers had left. Maryan and I were sitting on the front steps, drinking a beer, as the sun set, and I was looking through the front door at what we’d done.

I remember thinking that it looked like a new house, one that had just been built. A ‘model’ you’d see in a new development. I actually had vivid four color flashbacks to what it looked like before we started. How it looked after I’d torn out most of the ceilings and walls, and had about half of the roof torn completely off. The look on Maryan’s face when she first saw the destruction…

Then I looked over at her and saw she was gazing inside too, and had this little smile on her face. One that said to me… “Look at what we’ve done”… “I had my doubts, but he just kept at it, and I kept helping… Look at where we are now”…

You see she’d tasted it too… that sweet taste of success, of accomplishment… of finishing something many told you, that you couldn’t do… and yet, here you are, standing in the middle of what you’ve done.

I doubt I’m doing the actual emotion involved justice. If you’ve ever felt it, you know what I’m talking about, and you’re feeling it all over again. If you haven’t, well I’m not sure anyone else could ever really make you feel it in words. About the only thing I can say is go out and build something, do something, anything, do the best job you possibly can… and then enjoy your success.

It may not be the best birdhouse, paint job, floor refinishing, etc ever done… but it will be the best one you’ve ever done!! It will also be the worst one you’ll ever do, as each one you do after this one will be better than the one before.

In there lies the bittersweet taste of success. The knowing, that the next time will be better, and this will only stand as the best until you undertake another project. I choose to partake only of the sweet taste though, as it far out powers the bitter.

Do you get this feeling too? Does ‘not knowing how’ stop you from trying? Do you know why it does? If it doesn’t, why do you brave the unknown?