"Success is 1% inspiration, 98% perspiration, and 2% attention to detail."
I’ve been thinking about the devil a lot recently.
To be honest, I’ve been thinking a lot about the idea of details and people say that is where the devil is so I guess I’ve been thinking about the devil a lot by proxy. I am not the most detail oriented person, I’ll admit it. I don’t mean to say I’m careless, but I can definitely lean towards “that’ll work.” This probably won’t surprise anyone who has read my writing before. There are often typos and occasionally some unintentional misinformation. I want to be a perfectionist, but really, who has the time?
In some areas of my life, however, details really matter. Niki will get annoyed with me sometimes because I cannot tell a simple story. There must be detail, backstory, commentary, and ideally wordplay. “Get to the point” is a common theme. I fixate and get annoyed by details such as “fridge” having the letter “D” but “refrigerator” not having it. I recently was very bothered by the knowledge that the word “random” has a root word and an etymology which definitionally goes completely against everything the word stands for.
There is something admirable about perfectionists. A dogmatic holding to a standard. It either is perfect or not done. I was talking with some people at work throughout the last week about this idea. Many of whom claim to be perfectionists or, at the very least, more detail oriented than not. They are all people whose work I respect. In many ways, I wish I could be more like them. I used to have a pressure washing business. I think most of you know this by now. Over the years, different parts of my pressure washer broke during jobs. I often needed to throw together some quick fixes to get back to work before daylight or good weather ran out. If you look at my pressure washer now, it is the personification of “that’ll work.” The tires look different. The pull cord that starts it looks bizarre as it is multiple cords patched together while on site. The different nozzles don’t match as they broke or were lost and had to be replaced individually. It would drive a perfectionist crazy, but I love it. It tells a better story.
That’s the thing about detail. That is why I think I’ve been wrestling with this idea. I would claim on one hand not to be detail oriented because I don’t focus so much on the way things “should be” and try to create that. However, I love the details of the way things are and how they got to be that way. There are some people who would special order the OEM wheel for their pressure washer because that is perfect. That detail matters to them. I love to tell the story of the mismatched wheels.
This month is many things, one of which is men’s mental health awareness month. This is something that is close to my heart. Not necessarily because I have some huge mental health issue I want to discuss with you all, but rather because of how many years I spent avoiding emotion, especially discussing emotion. I am very much not alone in this. Discussing how we feel, what is bothering us aside from work and “being busy” and our sports teams blowing it again has been intrinsically dissuaded. I know there has been a new wave of men allowing themselves to be emotional, but I still think it is the exception rather than the rule. Even so, how to show emotion, and how to talk about what we feel is unnatural for many. It is like telling a medieval knight, “You don’t have to wear that cumbersome armor anymore! You are free to run into battle however you please.” Maybe they take you up on it, but it will be uncomfortable for all involved for a while.
I am lucky to have some amazing friends. I have written about them over and over and will continue to express my gratitude for them. This group has helped shape my ability to speak freely. We are, in many ways, a standard group of guys. We make fun of each other over everything. Dumb things we said nearly a decade ago will still be held against us. I love it. There is an art to making fun of your friends and I wouldn’t give that up because it is definitely a form of caring for one another. One of the real turning points for our group, however, was when our buddy Dinky suggested a time set aside each week to discuss what is really going on in our lives. There was a period of time where each Wednesday night we would get together and take turns sitting in the “hot seat.” It was a time without jokes. It was a time where what was brought up would not later be held against you. It was a time of rare emotional candor. Sure we made it fun. There were little rules that made some aspects silly, but the overall theme was honesty.
It wasn’t just sharing circle though. There were tough questions based on what was said. Some of my favorites being “and what are you going to do about it?” or “Why would that make us think negatively about you?” It was in these moments when a bunch of college guys talked about how to handle things in some relationships that have since become marriages with children. It was in these talks where college men worked through how their parents divorce changed how they interact with the world. It was in this group where I told the guys about breaking up with someone I had been seeing for a while. I had been dating this girl for a few years and when I ended things, I didn’t tell the guys for about a week because, for some reason, I thought they would see me as a failure. I believed they would see me as someone who wasn’t able to work through problems and make things last. I didn’t want to be someone who gave up. Of course they were supportive. But it wasn’t until my internal concerns were externally voiced that they were finally silenced.
This is where detail reenters the conversation. If I were just to have said I ended things with the girl I’d been seeing, there may have been a “that sucks” or even a “we’re here for you.” Because of the nature of the hot seat, however, I felt free and encouraged to share the deeper hurt. Not only was there no longer another half to so many shared memories, not only was there not a guarantee of someone to care how my day was just a call away, but there was a misguided view of my self worth brought to light. I honestly believe most of the time men would take that misguided view, push it down, and deal with it.
I don’t want to overstep here to say be an entirely open book and always just say what is on your mind. We have filters for a reason and trust is something that is earned. A person whose only role is to unload burdens onto others is not a true friend either. But a group of men who care, are honest, and have established trust is a truly beautiful thing. As many of you know, I grew up in church and my faith is the defining thing about me. That said, I have attended many men’s events through the years where sharing generalities and discussion of concepts men may struggle with are taken as “good enough” and we consider the emotional talk quota met. Sure it is a step in the right direction, but when you think a problem has been addressed when it hasn’t, it is more detrimental than a problem knowingly ignored.
There is a Seinfeld episode where George is dating a girl who will “yada yada” over important details. I will try to embed it below:
As funny as it is, it is the unfortunate reality of many men’s relationships. We yada yada over the messy truth because comfortability is safer than vulnerability. I think of myself as an emotionally mature man who is honest with those around me. I am beyond blessed with a family who encouraged honesty and withheld judgment. I have a group of friends who I have spent the last few paragraphs singing the praises of for the way they have opened up to me and allowed me to do the same. I have a wife who is the most caring, wise, and encouraging partner I could ever hope for. Even so, the thought of burdening others with my feelings still feels emasculating. I feel the need to be the taker of burdens, the strength when others are weak, the calm in the storm; the “man”. But how can I ever truly know if I am not known? How can I draw nearer to Niki if I keep parts of me at an arm’s length? I’m not just talking about struggles, but things that make you sad or concerned. Those are honestly the harder things for me to share as I want to be positive in all things. I want to be the one who takes things lightly.
I believe there is so much strength in faith. Men will admire entrepreneurs for the faith in themselves and the risks they took. Men will wish they could go back and time and wander into the unknown with Lewis and Clark or join Teddy Roosevelt’s expedition down the River of Doubt in Brazil. Yet men will often not have the strength to put their faith in those who they claim to most love. It is hard to have the strength to show weakness. It takes faith to be exposed and trust people won’t attack what they see. You cannot fail if you do not try, but you also cannot succeed. As cliche as it is, as on the nose as it may seem, Teddy Roosevelt’s “Man in the Arena” speech addresses this well:
“The credit belongs to the man who is actually in the arena, whose face is marred by dust and sweat and blood; who strives valiantly; who errs, who comes short again and again, because there is no effort without error and shortcoming; but who does actually strive to do the deeds; who knows great enthusiasms, the great devotions; who spends himself in a worthy cause; who at the best knows in the end the triumph of high achievement, and who at the worst, if he fails, at least fails while daring greatly, so that his place shall never be with those cold and timid souls who neither know victory nor defeat.”
The Daily Dispatch is often ridiculous, but when we do get serious, we champion the ideas of curiosity, intellectual honesty, and willingness to grow. Be curious what is going on in the lives of those you love. Be willing to be emotionally honest with those around you. Go through the pain of growing. I remember one time when I was caught in an incredibly embarrassing situation. I could have quickly lied about what I was doing there, and as creative as I believe myself to be, may have gotten away with it but then the situation suddenly changed. Yada yada yada and I am a totally different person now than I was before that moment.
The details matter.
