I’ve noticed atroublesome pattern in the memories that pop up daily on my Facebook timeline. Anyone reading over my shoulder might deduce traits of my personality that contradict reality. My frequent viewing of these posts has led to a nose-dive in my self-esteem, mainly because I am well aware of the situation.
What is that grim reality? I am a failure thanks to the DIY’ers (do-it-yourselfers). I am not referring to skilled seamstresses, needle-workers, interior designers who know all the rules and which to break, landscapers with encyclopedic knowledge, mechanics, builders, artists in any arena – all those folks with training and expertise in creating, improving and beautifying what makes our world go round.
I am referring to DIY’ers who concoct fun, functional and colorful complements to daily life out of discards. There are tons of television shows, websites, books (entire library sections) and YouTube podcasts dedicated to doing just that. Why do I feel doomed in this arena? It isn’t because I can’t do anything. I can read, comprehend and follow instructions – the foundation of any growth and development. I own basic equipment: hammer, drill, paints and brushes, more hot glue guns than necessary (because they play hide-and-seek), an immeasurable stash of supplies and innumerable sources of natural and manmade resources. I have a multitude of folders – both the paper and the email kinds – of mountains of projects within the scope of my skills. I could probably host workshops and provide participants with all the necessary supplies, but I would be learning along with them.
So why am I among the ranks of the DIN’ers (do-it nevers)? (Technically, almost-never because I have proudly completed a couple of basic ones in the fourteen or so years of retirement). If I didn’t drag out any of the quickest projects to tackle during the initial isolation of the pandemic in 2020, it probably ain’t gonna happen. Do I dare plan a yard sale or give my bins away? What if that dooms others to the DIN dungeon? I don’t want to enable so I will wait. Every now and then an authentic DIY’er begins looking frantically for a specific item in the middle of a creation. Being able to provide it is almost as satisfying as doing it myself.