Kat posted a thought provoking entry to the AW blogchain (you can read it here: Taking Control). She said one thing in particular that I’d like to pick up:
“Each and every person on this planet has a hole, a flaw (at least one!!). ”
She’s not kidding. I grew up all too aware of my flaws, my imperfections. But there’s one that’s really my undoing.
I like to take things apart.
Ok, in itself, maybe not so bad. Most of the time. Curiosity is healthy. Isn’t it? Unless you’re a cat, of course.
Apparently, I’m a cat.
I’ll use an example. I enjoy photography. And I had one camera that wasn’t working so well. I tracked the problem down to the lens. So, being me, I picked up the lens and saw a wee screw head on the rim.
“Oooh, I have a screwdriver just that size,” I thought. And I ran to get it.
Of course, it wasn’t just one screw. Lenses are built in layers. You take one layer out to get to the next. The layer I wanted (the shutter) was right at the far end, so I took them all out, one by one.
It’s a shame I didn’t put them in order or anything. Or, you know, label them as something useful.
I fixed the shutter, by the way, but by the time I’d got that back in, I couldn’t remember how everything else went together. And try as I might, I couldn’t get it back together.
I still have that lens. I keep it in a plastic lunchbox. And yes, it’s still in pieces.
It’s an expensive fault sometimes. But I wish that were all. You see, it’s not just physical things I like to strip down. I do it to me too. When I find something wrong with me, with my writing or anything like that, I take it apart. I examine it in such great detail that I lose sight of how everything else comes together and I end up a mess – broken and almost impossible to repair.
Because I forget sometimes that flaws are human, and that not everything has to work perfectly all the time.
And on that awe-inspiring note, I’m going to pass you over to Jen at Confessions of a Fat Chick.
Oh, and don’t forget to check out the rest of the chain:
Virtual Wordsmith
(The Blog Formerly Known as) Taosbound
Virginia Lee: I Ain’t Dead Yet!
Kappa No He
Playing With Words
A Thoughtful Life
Mad About Kites
Confessions of a Fat Chick
The Death Wizard Chronicles
Food History
A View From The Waterfront
Cath lives just outside Cleveland, Ohio (well, somebody has to), she writes, takes photographs, reads and writes obsessively. Oh, and she speaks with a funny accent.
I’m not necessarily a take-it-aparter, but I am a try-to-fix-something-that-is-beyond-my-abilities type, and it gets me into the same kind of trouble that you described above. The weird part about it is that when you’re in the middle of it and it dawns on you that you’ve lost control, it’s a scarier feeling than it really needs to be.
OK.. it is just SO FUNNY that you wrote about taking things apart. I can SO relate!! Just last night, I finished dinner early and my two girls were still eating. Apparently I can’t just SIT at the table… no.. I had to go into the bathroom and try to fix the sink that has been leaking for a month. Yes… DURING DINNER… LOL.
Well, of course by the time I’m done taking it apart and putting it together again it is now on a full scale “flow”.. not just a leak. So, I had to push back my plans for the evening and rush off to the local hardware store to replace all the seals.
Yes.. I did get it fixed, and now it doesn’t leak.. but I would have been MUCH better off to just leave it alone until I had the time to fix it. Hmmm… leave it alone? Nope.. doesn’t work for me. LOL.
Cath, I do the same thing to myself. I don’t necessarily physicially take things apart, but I sure as shootin’ do it mentally/psychologically. Sometimes it’s a good thing, other times not so much.
I’m off to do my part of the chain.
Ah yes. I’ve been known to do that – with things, writing and myself.
I try to put more things together now rather than taking them apart. So far it seems to be working…
I don’t so much suffer from having to take things apart, as I do from having to know how things work. I did, however, take apart a nightlight once, figured out what was wrong with it, fixed it and put it back together. I plugged it in and it worked. I was so darned proud of myself.
You are so brave! I have a couple cameras, two real live film bearing ones. But I’d be terrified to do anything other than clean the lens and even then I’m worried I’ll scratch it. I think I suffer from … fear!
Your post made me think back to 2 weeks ago. I gave my niece a cute pen that made funy noises. She is just like you and has to know how things work. She pulled it apart and a wire broke. Then I dsicovered that for her knowing how it worked was far more important than having it working: she showed me every single part she had detached and wasn’t at all perturbed by the fact that it no longer worked. Understanding was all she needed.
I don’t know anyone who would take something apart and not be able to get it together again
Sometimes I would be well served to leave things intact and alone. Oh well. Being able to explore the things around us is to be human I suppose.
Thanks for being in the chain.