The Detail Work

After a month-long absence from the blog, I return. What have I been up to? A week-long cruise to celebrate 10 years with my wife. A mountain of British Lit (see my Reading list on the right, if you're really interested). My first Kindle experience. Some really weird dreams. Lots of Doritos and Easter candy. What's most obvious, though, is a lack of writing. I've said before that when the pen (or keypad) is dead, the soul is dead too. Well, that pretty much says it all. Soul-less, I limp along to June 29, my last day of grad school.

While at an Easter celebration recently, one of my uncles asked me about school. I lamented that we're reading a ton right now and not really discussing any of it, not digging in and getting to the core of these texts. He exhibited great disdain for this as well, joining me in a diatribe about the futility about doing too much without paying careful attention to any of it. He said that he may not know a whole lot about a graduate school education; but as a concrete worker, he knew that without the detail work, nothing much came of what he did. He said they pour a ton of concrete, but if they forget the details, it's basically all for nothing.

I loved the analogy; and a couple days later, I furthered the comparison. Too much of anything without attention to the core details is, as I said, all for nothing. This is especially true about life. I've got a lot going on. We all do. Everyone is trying to accomplish a lot, whether it's diplomas, dollars, or dinners. But is there so much going on that we forget the detail work? Guilt-ridden, am I trying to cram more minutes in with my children without actually saying anything to them? Am I taking care of my house but not my heart? Am I helping my wife but not our relationship?

The little details matter. Ask your co-workers and friends how their weekend was, and make the answer important. Pray. A lot. Drink coffee slowly. Send notes. And cards. Or at the very least, send a Facebook greeting (thanks to those of you who remembered my birthday).

I offer this advice, but none better than the cautionary tale I'm living right now of life a mile wide and an inch deep. I can't take care of all the details. At then end of this journey I'll be able to say I covered a lot, but where will my soul be? How will I come out of a life half-lived, going too fast, going nowhere? What condition will I be in? Or my relationships?

Too close to the end to quit, I trudge along, trying to be as good as I can to the commitments I've made. Be patient with me. The concrete hasn't settled yet.