It Takes a Village
I borrowed a tool today. I borrowed it from a neighbor whom I had not met before, but we’ll get to how that happened shortly. I needed this tool for a project I was working on, one I was happy to undertake to improve my skills of being handy. The project had to do with installing a type of security system for our house. This is important to me as a husband and something I should have done long ago. I feel as if I am responsible for the physical well-being of my family, meaning my wife, and I have not done this to my utmost ability to this point. In a way, I have failed her.
The install began early this morning and I made good progress up until no more progress could be made. Part of this installation was drilling holes into the front of our house. The issue is that our house is brick, and I own a drill that is incapable of drilling holes into bricks. This drill is the first one I have owned in my life, and I have been proud to own it up until about 8:30 this morning. I attempted the brick drilling four times before I realized neither I nor my drill had the slightest likelihood of success. This is when, because I am almost 40, I decided to take a step back and a deep breath.
I had a few options, none of which were ideal. The first option was to go to the local hardware store and buy a drill that would allow me to make headway with the brick. This was a less-than-ideal option but was alluring at the same time. There are many things you could buy for the money it would cost to buy this powerful instrument, but it would be nice to own something capable of punching holes into material as strong as brick. Classic dilemma.
The second option provided a similar predicament: I could simply abort the mission and go about my day, but as I mentioned, this project was important to me as a husband. My wife would not have been thrilled if I gave up and put this new security system on a shelf somewhere. Add the fact that my mother-in-law bought this system for us, and well…
On to option three. The time had come to borrow this piece of equipment from a friend or neighbor. I chose this option and went the route of a neighbor. Given this book will be timeless and read for generations to come (right?), I should explain the current state of borrowing from neighbors. The neighborhood in which we currently live has a social media page, so I chose to go on this page and ask for assistance. This request was successful and I ended up with a high-powered drill in my hand only an hour later.
Option two would have been the option of choice back when I was 23 or 26 or 30. This project would have been abandoned before completion. This is sad to admit considering that I was employed by the US military at the time, and I should have felt quite the opposite. Always accomplish the mission no matter the circumstances—that is the military way. I probably would have blamed my inaction on the fact that I dealt with this all the time at work and did not need to deal with it at home, the whole “mission accomplishment” thing. The other options would have fallen by the wayside. The ability or willingness to spend the money to acquire such a tool would be a daydream at best. As for option three, even though it sounds ridiculous to my 39-year-old self, I would not have been willing to ask for help. I would have been embarrassed that I was not able to handle such a menial task on my own and with my own gear. The project would have gone unfinished and chalked up to the stubbornness of youth.
At 39, it seems that I have more willingness to accept help from others, even from those outside my circle. At 39, there is a willingness to reach out to a group of (mostly) strangers. Today, there was an understanding that it was OK to ask others for help, even for such a mundane thing as a decent drill. I swallowed my pride and it worked out well. Today, it was important to get the job done, no matter what it took. I chose not to make excuses but instead stood up to the responsibility of completing this task. I understand what today meant and what it means going forward into my forties. I know that this project was important to my wife and her family, and so it was even more important to me. At 39, I am proud of what I did today. I am proud to have overcome the stubborn tendencies of my younger self. I am proud of getting this task done even though I had to overcome some unforeseen challenges.
The importance of today’s lesson may not even need mentioning at this point. We all can see how today represented swallowing my pride and asking others for help. It worked wonders for me, and I wish I had followed my own lead countless times over the last 39-plus years. We all see the positives and benefits of counting on and trusting our neighbors, communities, friends, and family, yet for some reason, a lot of us fight the urge to do so. At this point in life, that is a mystery to me. We should all be willing to get help. We should also all be willing to give help any chance we get. There is no better feeling, right? We need to realize that the vast majority of people are good and are willing to help if they are asked. As we age, do we overestimate our abilities? Are we too scared, prideful, or just plain ashamed to ask for help or ask if someone else needs help? While it would be easy for me to challenge us all to lend a helping hand to our neighbors, I will do something else. I challenge us to ask for help when needed. I challenge us to be willing to admit when we need that help. We will be pleasantly surprised with what we find if we just ask.
-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)