So, I thought it would be an amazing idea to get our 3-year-old son an outdoor play set for his birthday. You know, with a two-story playhouse, slide, swings, climbing wall, picnic table—the whole shebang. I have visions of lounging in our backyard on our Adirondack chairs, sipping a glass of wine, and watching him burn off all that endless energy. It’s a beautiful dream, and let me tell you, we are this close to making it a reality. I can almost taste that wine.
But there’s one tiny little thing standing in the way of this backyard paradise: actually building the damn thing. Yep, I decided to tackle this project myself, armed with nothing but determination and a set of power tools I’m barely acquainted with. It’s gutsy, I know—my first non-IKEA major structure, and I’m doing it pretty much solo.
Let’s just say it’s been a journey. I’ve dinged up more than a few pieces, put things in the wrong places (more than once), and spent a good chunk of time undoing what I’d just done. It’s a classic case of two steps forward, one step back—or maybe it’s more like one step forward, three steps back when you’ve assembled the climbing wall upside down. Sixteen hours in, and I think I’m almost halfway there. Yikes.
But honestly, aside from the recent heat wave turning me into a puddle of sweat, I don’t mind the slow progress. It’s been a great exercise in patience, taking things slow, and resisting the urge to rush through it just to get to that glass of wine.
The other day, I was chatting with my therapist about the project, and she asked me a question that stopped me in my tracks. “Is it because you want it to be perfect?” she asked. It’s a fair question, especially since I’ve been working on letting go of my perfectionist tendencies. But to my surprise, my answer was a confident “No.”
I’ve already made mistakes—little ones that only I know about (don’t worry, nothing that compromises safety!). And you know what? I’m totally fine with them. There’s a certain beauty in those imperfections, like tiny scars that tell the story of the build. Sure, my eye might always go to that slightly uneven plank or the screw that didn’t quite go in straight, but I’m learning to embrace them. It’s kind of like the ketubah hanging in our living room, where I accidentally signed in the “rabbi” spot instead of the “bride” spot on our wedding day. My husband loves to remind me of that one, with a grin on his face.
So here I am, embracing the imperfect and slow nature of this massive project. I know that in the end, when I’m finally sitting in that Adirondack chair with a well-deserved glass of wine, watching my son play, I’ll feel incredibly rewarded.
“Perfection is the enemy of progress”
~Winston Churchill
How about you? How can you embrace imperfections and take it slow today?