Those of you who follow my blog will know I haven’t posted in ages! I’ve been busy. I had another kid. Go me! So I’ve been fairly busy… But I’ve been putting off posting due to my apparent “lack of time”. Allow me to say a bit about it…
The other day, I went to the post office. Please, stop! Your applause is too much!
Honestly though, it was an achievement for me.
Despite the fact that having young children can make the most menial task seem unachievable, I’ve come to realise that often it’s not necessarily the act of doing something that’s so hard, it’s the mental preparation it takes to get yourself to a place of doing it.
So, instead of waiting around for some perfect opportunity to get things done which will NEVER arrive, I’ve started trying to just stop thinking and start doing.
I can spend sooo long thinking and researching about things, only to waste all that time by never doing what I had planned to in the first place.
That is why, recently I spent countless hours in my garage late at night painting a doll house I had bought at an opp shop.
It had sat there, dirty and unloved, for some time while I worked up the courage to tackle the task.
I’m a researcher. I’m not necessarily a go-getter. So at some point I had to stop myself from figuring out how to re-do a doll house and just do it.
Here is how it looked when I found it.
I toyed with the idea of having it ready for my daughter’s third birthday, but then I thought perhaps Christmas would be more realistic.
Then I stopped myself. I was making excuses. It WILL be done for her birthday.
So I allowed myself the necessary time it took to research what kind of paint to use and a brief idea on how to do it (I’ve never up cycled anything in my life). And then I just got in there and did it. I didn’t use wood-filler to fill in the chips. I allowed myself to make mistakes.
It may not be perfect (my procrastination is often tied up with my desire for perfection).
But, when I stepped back from it and saw the transformation, I saw perfection. To me, it was perfect. Ok, I’ve fallen in love with a doll house.
My husband had the audacity to imply that the doll house was more for me than my daughter. Perhaps he was right. Just a tiny bit. But it wasn’t really the finished product I was after. It was the catharsis you get from hours spent transforming an object. The bliss of brush strokes as I spent time by myself (albeit at 2am in a garage). The sense of achievement in completing something you set out to do.
So now, when I see my daughter playing with her doll house, my heart is full with joy. And when I walk from the living room to the kitchen and see this fine specimen (sorry husband, I’m talking about the doll house), my heart is full of pride and I know I’ve not only transformed an object, I’ve transformed myself. I’m not a thinker anymore. I’m a do-er!!
And for your viewing pleasure and mine, here is the delicious final product! Voilà!