Last week I started painting the living room at a friend’s house. Today I finished it. Compared to the other rooms I’ve painted there, it took–I don’t know–twice as long. It was bigger. There were more doors, more windows, more nooks and crannies. The whole room (and the adjacent hallway) took nearly twenty-four hours to complete. Phew. I can’t tell you how good it feels to finally be done.
I didn’t take a before picture, but here’s a picture of the room with one partial coat of white. It used to be brown from floor to ceiling.
Here’s a picture of the finished product. What a difference!
Here’s another finished-product picture, taken from the other side.
Today when I got home my dad said, “It looks like you got more paint on you than on the walls.”
“Accurate,” I said, only half-joking.
Y’all, painting is messy business. If you’d stepped into the room even two hours before I finished, you might have thought, Yuck. What I mean is that was dried paint on the windows, tape on the floors, and no plate covers on the switches and outlets. Plus I had supplies everywhere. But after getting two full coats laid down (and in some places three), then I was able to go to work cleaning up–scraping paint off the windows with a razor blade, pulling the tape up off the floor, screwing the plate covers back on, and moving my supplies. The whole day I kept thinking, I’ll never finish. But eventually I did.
Transformations like this one continue to amaze me. Five weeks ago I started working on this house, and whereas I still have more to do, so far I’ve finished five rooms. Five rooms that used to be all brown (or green or turquoise) are now all white. I guess the whole project feels a bit like what this blog often feels like–overwhelming if you think about it as a whole. A whole house to paint. Over a thousand blogs to write. But if you just do a little bit at a time, sooner or later you start to think, This is possible. I can do this.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
"
For I am a universe–large–like you are, and there is room here for all that we contain. An ego, of course, is small, and it is disgusted and humiliated by the smallest of things. But a universe is bigger than that, much too big to judge itself or another, much too big to ever question how bright it is shining.
This morning I woke up with a crick in my neck and thought, Oh crap, it’s probably just gonna get worse because I’ll be spending all day painting, which is what I did. A friend of mine is fixing up their rent house (to rent), and, starting today, I’m painting the inside. And whereas I’m excited about the work (it’s good to be employed), I’ve been nervous about what it would do to my already tender and sometimes hurting body. Anyway, I took two Aspirin, said a prayer, and asked my body to hang in there. If possible, I’d like us to feel good, I said. Then off we went.
When I first arrived at my friend’s rent house, I was overwhelmed by the big-ness of the project. The entire house, every room (all the walls and ceilings), needs to be done. Where do I start? I thought. Finally, I took a breath and picked a room. Then for a solid hour all I did was prep. First I moved out all the furniture and junk. Then I took down the blinds and curtain rods and removed the wall plates. Then I wiped the cobwebs from the corners. Then I put the drop cloth down (I dropped that cloth like it was hot), shook up the paint, poured it into the pan, and got to work.
While putting on the first coat of paint, I listened to some self-help CDs I recently borrowed from a friend. One of the things the CDs mentioned was that whenever we want something–better health, more money, a lover–it’s only because we believe we’d feel better if we had it. And whereas we might (I’d certainly feel better if Zac Efron were sitting on my lap right now), the CDs suggested a novel concept–try feeling better now, even without whatever it is you want. Not great, not fabulous, just good, as good as you can in this moment, which might be different than later today or tomorrow. Anyway, I tried this. I thought about a few things that make me happy, danced around the room a bit, even did a little yoga. Later I put on the soundtrack to one of my favorite Broadway musicals. Gay, I know, but not only did it make my day painting go faster, it also made it more enjoyable.
Y’all, I worked and painted today for six solid hours. I rolled and cut in two full coats of paint onto half the room. My goal is to finish the other half tomorrow, this weekend at the latest. My point now is that the time flew by. Often when I’m doing manual labor there’s all this internal bitching–either because my body hurts or because I’d rather be doing something else. But today my body cooperated. Not that it didn’t hurt at times, but it never got out of control. And I really didn’t want to be doing something else. I saw the job for what it was–an opportunity for me to make some money, help a friend, and have time alone to listen to CDs and Broadway musicals, something I probably wouldn’t have made time for on my own.
Also, it was a chance for me to work on my attitude.
As I see it, you can always work your attitude. All the better if you’re at work or your body’s not feeling exactly like you want it to. Start by thinking, I want to feel good. Then think of things that make you feel good–your friends and relatives (well, maybe not your relatives!), your favorite book, hobby, or vacation spot. A couple years ago a friend of mine introduced me to a scene from The Big Bang Theory in which one of the characters keeps saying, “Please pass the butter,” and it’s one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen. Of course, my friend and I joke about it a lot, so maybe that’s part of it. You know how something can become “a thing.” But still, whenever I want a little emotional pick-me-up, I’ll watch the clip or just think of it in my head. Please pass the butter!
And just like that, I’m smiling.
Later doesn’t exist.
I’ve made this point before, but it’s worth repeating. So often we put off our happiness. We think, I’ll be happy when my ship comes in, when I lose ten pounds (or twenty), or when I get laid. I’ll be happy when Zac Efron is sitting on my lap. And whereas there’s nothing wrong with dreaming (everybody’s got a dream), the problem with this type of thinking is that it pulls us out of the present moment, which is the only place happiness is even possible. Think about it. You can’t be happy later. Later doesn’t exist. I mean, when tomorrow arrives, it will still be NOW. And again, you don’t have to shoot for the emotional stars. You don’t have to feel the best you’ve ever felt this red hot minute. But you can reach for a slightly better feeling by opening your eyes and ears to what’s around you (life!) or by accessing a positive memory. The benefit to this exercise? It’s simple–YOU FEEL BETTER!
And you didn’t even have to go anywhere or buy anything to do so.
This afternoon I helped my friend Kim start painting her kitchen. I say “start painting” because, like nearly every other damn thing in life, it’s going to be a process. (I hate that.) That being said, we made a lot of progress. Before today the entire kitchen–the walls, the baseboards, the molding–was apple green. Now only about half of it is. So even though there’s more to do, it’s clear you can get a lot done in a day.
So why not take a day and do something?
Kim said her least favorite part of painting was the prep work–scrubbing the walls clean, patching any holes. Alas, her husband, Grant, insists on “doing things right.” Personally, I agree with both of them–the prep work needs to be done, and it’s no fun doing it. Likewise, I don’t enjoy putting primer on walls, or, truth be told, the putting first coat of paint on walls. Because things still look sloppy, incomplete. No, for me, the fun part is the last coat of paint, when it all comes together. Then what REALLY thrills me is putting the room back IN ORDER, hanging pictures up and such.
Gay, I know.
The obvious point is that you can’t put pictures up without first doing the prep work, then doing the primer coat (if needed), then doing the first coat, and so on. Again, it’s a process, a process that if not “done right” is gonna be obvious. We’ve all seen rushed painting jobs before and thought, This person cuts corners.
Or is that just me who judges someone’s entire personality by how they paint a room?
Currently I’m house sitting for a friend and am in their living room. The last time I blogged here (in this particular room) was about six months ago. I remember because I’d recently injured my knee and–because my surgeon told me I didn’t need my crutches (because “you don’t need your ACL to walk”)–was re-teaching myself how to walk and negotiate stairs. Talk about things you take for granted. I remember having to lie on the ground to wiggle my pants on and off. Now, like before my accident, I can put my pants on standing up.
Don’t be jealous.
Everything worth having takes time.
This last week I was discussing my knee injury with a friend of mine who is a personal trainer and said that I have a ways to go. For example, it’s still challenging to jump using my injured leg, to use that leg to lower myself down (steps or into a chair), or to put weight on that knee. However, my friend said, “But look how far you’ve come.” Is that a wonderful encouragement or what? So often I get hung up on progress not yet made, on walls not yet painted, instead of focusing on That Which Has Been Accomplished. I want to get to The End, to the hanging pictures part, so the temptation is to half-ass, rush through, or get impatient with The Process. But if five years in therapy and two years of daily blogging have taught me anything, it’s that everything worth having takes time. Also, I’ve learned that the work that really pays off is the work that nobody sees. It’s the prep and the primer. That’s why they call it The Hard Work–because it’s tedious and boring and nobody is going to praise you for doing it (probably not even your mother). But damn if it doesn’t make all the difference.
Quotes from CoCo (Marcus)
"No one comes into this life knowing how to dance, always moving with grace."
