Progress Sometimes Looks Like a Hole in the Ground

The other day, a former colleague was reflecting on the manicured nature of LinkedIn articles and legitimately asked what's wrong with that? And I have to agree there's nothing wrong with celebrating your wins. However, reflection on the losses is an incredible use of my time. I'm also fond of telling folks that learning through someone else's misfortune is one of the most powerful and pain-free ways to learn a lesson. So, let's unpack an unfortunate circumstance and see what we can learn from it.

It was early 2021, and the Covid malaise had set in. Seattle had been more aggressive in fighting it than most places, and our weather didn't do us any favors either. There was a bit of cabin fever going on; when you live alone, that can be tough. At the same time, I was experiencing a blip at Dell and wasn't my usual chipper self. One day, I woke up and determined I needed to do three things to get back on track. I'll keep the first two to myself for my privacy, but for the third, I had decided I wanted to cut a 20-foot hole in my house and expand it 12 feet, alongside adding a second story over my garage for a workout room because I hate doing my elliptical in a non-climate controlled environment, and anything that stands between me and exercise lets face it is likely to win the battle. So, I started this audacious plan to add approximately 500 square feet to my house; it took 2-3 months to iron things out and find a contractor and an architect. Unfortunately, that's where things took a turn for the worse as the architect I hired was incredibly incompetent at his job. It started with delays in getting the plans in. It turned into him prioritizing new "emergency clients" over my existing far-behind project, and then came the multiple failures to pass the permitting process. All told it ended up wasting a good chunk of change, but more importantly, my vision for turning my home into a paradise and fortress of solitude (unfortunately) had been delayed for a year and a half.

It comes to a head.

I found myself at Torrey Pines; I had decided to do a rather ambitious hike from north of Torrey Pines through Torrey Pines National Park and then walk to La Jolla. Now, I'm no stranger to hiking or walking small distances without water, but this was a foolish decision that day. Most of the trailheads at Torrey Pines had water fountains at them, which was helpful, but strangely enough, their giftshop didn't have collectible water bottles to get me out of my foolishness and that heat. So, about six or seven miles into my hike that day I'm completely gassed and needing some water. I needed to stop somewhere to get some water, lunch, and a beverage, too. I ended up going to the Torrey Pines golf course and their restaurant. They stuck me in a back bar area. I could have been more presentable, caked in dust and dirt. I downed 3 or 4 large glasses of water, had a salad, and then decided it was time for a drink. Now, the bartender must be Jiminy Cricket or have some incredible intuition because the gentleman poured me the stiffest Tom Collins cocktail I've ever seen. I take one sip and almost double over. Now's maybe the time for some excellent foreshadowing… You might be asking yourself why Nick is walking so much everywhere on his vacation. Well, I was winding down after an incredibly busy period at work and dealing with a lot of stress, and walking helped me mellow out. Well, that relaxing moment was broken by a call from the city permitting office following up on a call I made asking about the status, which I had been assured would get rubber-stamped this time. It became apparent very quickly that the Tom Collins would play a role in this conversation. As I received the awful news the calm had been shattered. Now it was time for action and well for firing the architect. I won't say it was the nicest email I've ever sent, but that's what costing someone a lot of money and wasting a year and a half of their life will do for you. But as I triage and pick up the pieces, what can be learned by this experience?

Trepidation:?I waited a long time to start this project because I was very nervous about this kind of undertaking. Well, the fears were realized. Trusting someone didn't work out. But the reality is it's not the end of the world, and the delays experienced from this failure were about as long as the delays in hesitation. If you want something, even if you're afraid, go and do it.

Watching for the amygdala hijack:?One of my favorite phrases. I could have also gone with "Don't shoot the messenger." The young lady who was helping me was absolutely a professional. She was kind; she was limited in what she could say to me without exposing herself to jeopardy in her role as a government representative, but her empathy shined through. Even though I had some of the most disastrous news I'd seen in quite some time, I was able to be calm treat her with respect; and I swear my mouth wasn't dry from the hike, but because of the dread, I even managed a parched thank you for her failing my permit. I rationalized it: she's doing her job, she's keeping me safe from the incompetence. The architect, well, he didn't get that treatment, so there may be room to continue to grow here.

Resilience:?After assessing the damage and unpacking my options to move forward, I quickly moved to put myself on the best path, even if it meant a bit more salt in the wounds. I was gutted to learn the level of incompetence meant that we were going to likely need another six months before the permit was going to be issued and that none of the costs could be deferred by using the older work. it was in bad enough shape it essentially had to be started over. What a gut punch, but I will get to the end and have it done my way.

Acceptance:?There were effectively 5 significant advancements/modifications to the house: new master bathroom, workout room, deck demo and rebuild, dining room, and putting in a hot tub. Unfortunately, no work can be done on the actual house without the permits. But as you've seen today with the picture above… sometimes progress looks like a hole in the ground. There's nothing I can do to control unfavorable parts of this journey, but the deck on its last legs is gone and I will deploy the hot tub in the coming weeks and have that to enjoy this winter.

Dreams Deferred

As I walked outside today and saw this terrible-looking hole in the ground, there was with it a sense of satisfaction. Delayed, behind, over budget, but not deterred… simply deferred. It's going to happen; I will see my vision realized. And you know, along the way, I've learned a lot; unfortunately, I had to learn it firsthand this time. But to look at a disaster and see the silver lining in something like this, I don't know if I'd have been ready to do that five or ten years ago. It's always challenging to not get too high or too low on something. It can be difficult to celebrate your wins and not dwell on losses. I'm as guilty as anyone of over-rotating things with frustration. We don't always have a lot of control over what happens around us and to us, but what we do have is how we let it affect us.