Another post about toilets

I mentioned something earlier this week about hating it when women leave toilet seats wet. Its gross and unnecessary. But today my problem is the actual toilet. MY actual toilet.

We came back from a relaxing weekend away in the Berkshires (la-di-da, not so fancy – we stayed in a dorm at a yoga retreat for 500 people, but the hiking was wonderful,) to find our toilet busted. Not literally – just unable to fill water up in the tank. We tried jangling the chain, closing the seal shut, etc. Plumber comes, fixes it, same thing happens that night but instead of an ongoing run like a waterfall, this one comes and goes at 2am, 4am, 6am…

This morning, he came with a new seal and fingers crossed, I’ll sleep through the night. It got me thinking, though, about how important trade and technical schools are. I’m good at MacGyver’ing things, and I would have eventually fixed the issue, but still – would have been nice to even get some basic plumbing info growing up. Or electrical. Or understanding how the gas system in the house works. Or how to clean out to a/c vent. The basics – things that we use in our day to day life. My dad did teach me how to change a tire, and he never shied away from showing me how to do other things just because I was a girl. He worried early on that because I was such a tomboy, I might end up ‘having’ to do these things for myself anyway.

Not everyone needs a college education, least of all a liberal arts one. Yes, it makes me a well-rounded person, able to carry on a wonderful conversation at a cocktail party, but can I fix a toilet when its running in the middle of the night? No.

Jackhammers and hummingbirds

Last week, I saw Elizabeth Gilbert speak about her new book, Big Magic. At one point, someone from the audience asked a question I’ve been asking myself for years. What if you just aren’t the type of person who is going to be obsessive and committed and dedicated to one thing, your whole life? Does that make you any less of an artist, writer, poet, painter, baker, banker, etc.? What if you’re good at a few things but not great at any one? Should I give up now and save myself the trouble?

One of the things the Live Your Legend group requires via self-exploration is to find the thing at which you are an expert, and be an expert at the thing you are passionate about. When Elizabeth received the question, she gave a great analogy. She explained that she is a jackhammer. For as long as she could remember, she wanted to be a writer. She announced it at a young age, and pursued it relentlessly, obsessively, admitting that this often made her unaware of many people, feelings, and things around her. She became the great writer she wanted to be. But then there are the hummingbirds. Those who bring nectar and curiosity from one blossom to the next, who find things beautiful that she might have missed. The cross-pollinators, who are inspiring in their own right, trying new things along the way. It was a kind way to answer the young woman’s question. The truth, of course, is that if this woman wanted to BE any one of those things, she probably would have pursued it by now. Or maybe she’s just flitting, floating and years from now she’ll discover she really loves knitting and open an online shop selling her wares. Or not. The percentage of people who fully commit to their craft, their business, their talent, is small – relative to the population of the human race. It doesn’t mean we shouldn’t try, that’s not what I’m saying. Most of us are working hard, maybe even loving what we do, but we’re not all capable of being geniuses, of being the next Elon Musk or a Pulitzer Prize winner. I know – I sound like Debbie Downer but I think a healthy dose of realism wouldn’t hurt. It doesn’t have to be a depressing fact. It might actually be liberating to stop putting so much pressure on ourselves that because we live in America, we must innovate/create or die – each and every one of us. Maybe its alright to just enjoy a bottle of wine and a good meal with the people you love, talk about what’s going on in the world, plan a trip here and there, learn something new, and age healthfully. Maybe the only thing I will ever be an expert at is loving my son and my husband, or how to find the best desserts while traveling.  And that doesn’t feel like defeat, it feels like acceptance. Maybe even relief.