Thirty-three parts. Are you kidding me? How is a mechanically challenged person like me supposed to assemble a chair that arrives with 33 parts?
OMG. I say again: OMG. (Picture my OMG face here. Or maybe my what-to-do-next dramatic shrug.)
The thing is — I’ve been waiting for stackable mid-century chairs to go on sale for ages, and when they did, I (gleefully) nabbed them. But I was not about to pay as much for assembly as I did for the chairs! So I told myself, You can do it, you can do it, you can do it.
Sheesh. How many times in life (for so many occasions) have I had to tell myself this?
Let’s see… First dates. Job interviews. Moving overseas. Moving anywhere. Saying hello to a stranger at a social gathering. Getting up the nerve to attend a social gathering in the first place! Walking down the aisle. Getting through pregnancy, tough times in marriage, parenthood! And of course, so many conundrums after divorce.
But don’t we all have to talk ourselves through confronting our fears, our struggles, our precarious times — even those that wind up imparting lessons, not to mention unexpected joys?
Thirty-three parts? Surely I have conquered more daunting challenges and should remind myself of the you-can-do-it refrains that have resulted in victories.
Little wins. Big wins. Life-lesson wins.
I know, I know. Sometimes we need to use the “life lesson” reasoning to accept all kinds of happenings. But it works, right? Isn’t that the way of things for most of us?
So I take a deep breath. I whisper my “you can do it” motivational mantra over and over, knowing that everyone needs a cheerleader and sometimes that role falls to our own inner voice. Yup, that means squaring off with the pitiful “shit, I can’t do this” line. (It’s too easy for the inner voice(s) of “I can’t” to drown out the (weary) braver refrain of “I can.” A neighbor pointed out my habit (lately) of explaining away a handful of anxiety-producing initiatives (opportunities?) with an underlying I can’t mentality. Go figure. Epiphany time!) And positive behaviors frequently follow a commitment to turn positive words into positive action, don’t they?
So I stand in front of those damnable 33 parts. Well, 33 parts X 2, that is. And I say the words. You can do this, you can do this, you can do this.
Now, I won’t tell you how many days I stared at the big box that contained my pair of chairs. I won’t tell you how many days I stared at all the pieces once I opened the box. I won’t tell you how many days I continued to stare at the pieces that I took out of the box and laid out next to an elaborate book of instructions. And I won’t tell you how many days it took for me to sip the last of my coffee, slice open the blister pack full of bolts and spacers and washers and plates, read and re-read the instructions, and get down to work.
This morning, I tackled it. And I did it! (Applause please… And now you can picture my self-satisfied face.)
All those days aside, and the ridiculous amount of time it took for me to put the first chair together – so meticulously – once the first chair was done, I could visualize the flow of putting the second together. I know it will come easily — I can see all the patterns involved in the process. (My arms and hands are tired; the second chair will wait until tonight or tomorrow.)
Here’s the point. (Yes, there is one.) My confrontation with 33 parts is a reminder of how extraordinarily good it feels when you accomplish something difficult — for you. And, one win often motivates you to take on the next challenge and put yourself on the path to another win.
By the way, how others see your challenges or approach to those challenges becomes irrelevant; it is the fact that you persist in confronting what seems to be an obstacle, that you confront your challenges, and that you take the process at your own pace. And when you do it — when you say “I can” instead of “I can’t” — it feels so good.
Does this portend tackling other tasks that are weighing on me?
Maybe. I am a firm believer in the principle that the more you do the more you can do, and action is better than inaction lest inertia take over.
But hey, in the meantime, I have a super-cool chair to sit on, and 33 parts vanquished.
Any challenges you have taken on lately? Any you have been putting off? Anyone care to guess how long it took me to assemble that chair?
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Love the new chair, DA. Stu and I purchased a bed for the spare room last year that required assembly. We had no choice; we needed a new bed and one with underneath storage, since our very small bungalow has very little storage, and Ikea had the only bed that would work in our space. So we set about it. Me slowly, and cautiously, Stu, with a “let’s just get this done” attitude. He always starts right in, I always read the instructions. You’d think these two sets of differing skills would work better together. Not so much. When we were finished, I commented that the money we saved on the bed would now have to go for anger management classes. Ha.
Chuckling, Sue… ?
Very funny!! Money saved will need to go towards anger management classes and then some massage therapy!!! ?
Congratulations!!! Your words (and efforts) are a motivating force in so many ways…thanks!!
Sheila
Glad! (Do tell.)
Well, obviously they aren’t from Ikea or you would have had 29 parts for one and 37 for the other.
That said, I remember ordering a butcher block kitchen cart from Ikea and putting it together myself. I felt like Wonder Woman when it was done.
Like so many difficult and disagreeable tasks, it gets accomplished one step at a time. And then IT’S DONE.
Yes… and yes!
It doesn’t help that many self-assembly products come with instructions drawn by someone whose forte is neither assembly or drawing, with text translated from Chinese by someone without skills in Chinese, English, or translation. And then there are the included drugstore quality tools….
WELL DONE!
BRAVA!!!!
Don’t think I could have done it without LEFT OVER PARTS!!!!
XX