Currently I’m at my friends Todd and Bonnie’s house, where I’ve been all day, cleaning antique hardware. I started this project earlier this week, and whereas it’s not difficult work, it is tedious and time-consuming. First, if the hardware has paint on it, I let it soak in a crock pot. This makes the paint slide right off. Then I scrub, scrub, scrub the paint-free (usually) bronze metal with either Brasso, a mixture of baking soda and lemon juice, or both. At least that’s what I’ve been doing.

I’ll explain.

This afternoon after working for several hours I was ready to call it a day. But then I got obsessed with the fact that the pieces of hardware that had been through the crock-pot process had a distinct pink/copper tone to them and the other pieces didn’t. Rather, they looked like–um–brass. Well, I made the mistake of Googling why. As it turns out, brass is composed of copper and zinc, and heating it up (like in a crock pot) removes the zinc. This is why several pieces looked like copper–they were. Thankfully, this can be fixed. Soaking the copper-toned pieces in a solution of equal parts white vinegar and hydrogen peroxide removes the copper, and then–voila!–you’re back to brass (or steel if that’s what’s underneath).

Here’s a picture of The Solution. It starts off clear, then turns blue, then, sometimes, scummy.

After going to the store to get white vinegar and hydrogen peroxide, I went through the above process, and it worked like a charm. However, it also left my perviously shiny pieces of hardware smudged and dirty. Albeit dirty brass, not dirty copper. And whereas Brasso and baking soda and lemon juice didn’t do the trick, another internet remedy did–white vinegar, salt, and flour. Oh my gosh, y’all, that stuff is magic. It took almost all the dirt and grime off in an instant–no elbow grease required. I was so impressed that I not only used it to clean the used-to-look-like-copper pieces, but also touched up all the others.

Take a look. Notice the door knob in the bottom lefthand corner. That one was technically already clean (it was previously ALL dark), but not new-magic-potion clean like the others in the photo. What a difference!

Part of me feels like I wasted a lot of time earlier this week and this afternoon because I didn’t know about the copper-removing process or the magic brass-cleaning paste. But how can you know what you don’t know? Thankfully, I know now, and that means the rest of the hardware will get cleaned quicker and easier. As I watched The Solution and The Paste dissolve the copper and the dirt and grime before my very eyes, I thought, Better living through chemistry.

Work smarter, not harder.

The Gospel of Thomas says that Jesus said, “The man is like a wise fisherman who cast his net into the sea and drew it up from the sea full of small fish. Among them the wise fisherman found a fine large fish. He threw all the small fish back into the sea and chose the large fish without difficulty. Whoever has ears to hear, let him hear.” To me this parable means that when you find a better way, you forsake all your previous ways that either weren’t working as well or weren’t working at all. Like, why would I go back to baking soda and lemon juice when The Paste is clearly superior?

In terms of personal growth, I’ve discovered a lot of Big Fish along The Path. For example, setting boundaries, being authentic, and speaking my truth (which, incidentally, is different than speaking my opinion). These things have taken the place (not all the time, but most the time) of the small fish of which I used to be so acquainted–being enmeshed with others, being a people pleaser, and being sarcastic or passive aggressive (or simply silent). Not that these small-fish strategies didn’t work on some level, but I’ve simply found a better way to live in the world and interact with others. It’s called being honest, direct, and kind.

While working with these pieces of antique hardware, it’s occurred to me that I’m not trying to create something beautiful from scratch. Rather, by removing layer after layer of paint, zinc, copper, dirt, and grime, I’m simply revealing something beautiful. Something that was there all along but got covered up due to–I don’t know–neglect or just life. Life is hard on a door knob. This is a metaphor, of course, for the idea that all of us are radiant on the inside but that our radiance gets covered up due to–I don’t know–neglect or just life. Life is hard on a person. Thankfully, with a lot of work, a lot of trial and error, and a lot of grace, we can get to what’s underneath.

When Queer Eye for the Straight Guy originally came out (see what I did there?), Kyan Douglas said that men need to pluck their nose hairs. Then he motioned to his gloriously kempt face and said, “Do you think this just happens?” With respect to cleaning door knobs or uncovering one’s inner radiance, I’d ask the same question. Do you think this just happens? The obvious answer is no. Even in Jesus’s parable about the man who caught the big fish, the big fish didn’t jump into his boat on its own accord. No, the man had to go fishing. He had to cast his net. He had to pull it in. Then he had to have enough sense to keep the big fish and–perhaps just as important–throw the little fish back, an act analogous to pruning the vine or separating the tares from the wheat. When Aladdin entered the Cave of Wonders, the rules were that he could only touch The Lamp. He couldn’t touch any other jewel or coin.

All this to say–once you figure out what’s Most Important, you can’t let yourself be distracted by, weighed down, or otherwise concerned with piffle or That Which Doesn’t Matter. Recently someone I care a great deal for suggested I could smile more in my daily selfies. I am–they said–after all, beautiful, and some of my pictures don’t do me justice. At one time I would have taken this advice to heart, thinking, I’m doing something wrong. My face is disappointing someone. I should be doing better. I should be smiling more. But as I’ve said numerous times before, this blog and my life are not about outward appearances or presenting myself in a such a way as to make someone else happy or gain their love or approval (even for a moment). Granted, I used to worry about such small things, but have since thrown those fish back into the sea because I’ve found A Better Way. Indeed, once you clear away The Grime, you connect with a certain confidence that allows you not only to simply be who you are, but also to stop feeling like you have to prove yourself–to yourself, anyone else, or the world at large. Like door knobs, we exist. This is enough.