The project to remodel the master bedroom and to rebuild of the entryway began in the spring of 2009. There was a hot tub to dismantle, the subsequent hole in the floor to repair, single pane floor to ceiling windows that had to be replaced, dilapidated French doors to upgrade, electrical line to lay out, lights and outlets to install, and billions of square feet of dry to install, mud and paint. Well, not billions, but close. Although my partner of thirteen years and I did have plans to remodel both rooms sometime in the future, our decision to do so was not necessarily voluntary. The entryway had begun to shift noticeably during the winter months; so much so that major drywall work had to be done each spring. This addition had been built without a permit by the previous owners, and it had major defects. A foundation specialist evaluated the addition, and informed us that only one pillar was holding it up. The problem was solved after several foundation supports were augured into the ground beside the foundation, and a clever system of brackets installed to support and level the entire structure.
The French doors in the living room were flimsy, poorly shimmed in the rough out and leaked air in and out in enormous volumes. The floor to ceiling windows in the master bedroom were literally on the verge of falling out of the casings. They too were inefficient as insulators against the cold in the deep winter. Twice the baseboard heating pipe froze and burst. We had no choice but to take immediate action to correct the problems that were rapidly building year to year. We dug in, tore out, and pressed forward with as much enthusiasm as could be mustered after having just finished a year long remodel of the main bath and the kitchen. Two smaller bedrooms had yet to have floor installed, and the work to be done quickly became overwhelming.
The projects might have been finished much sooner had I not had to put down the tools, and take a prolonged break to deal with an overload of emotions stemming from my dad's death, my brother's struggle to find a new job in Virginia, my mother's breast cancer, and my own sense of helpless frustration. My partner maintained a cool disposition, but each week brought me closer to a physical and mental state resembling that of someone on the verge of a nervous breakdown. I needed to walk away from the work and let it rest, or risk my sanity. For four months I barely stepped foot into the master bedroom room, and a year passed before I could think about tackling the final but complex touches. My partner was patient and understanding. I doubt if I could have coped without that support and the love of family and friends. 
I tend to be an all or nothing kind of person, but that year I was left with little choice but to abandon that strategy for one more attuned to the reality of my age, skills, resources and ambition. It finally occurred to me that to succeed in life, I did not have to design and complete massively complex projects to be successful. I could scale a project down to suit me, and not constantly drive myself to meet my all to often grandiose and unattainable aspirations. I also learned to ask for help. Two concepts that had no place in my philosophy prior to 2009.The day came when I set to work to complete what my partner and I had started, and for a while, I was confused as to how to begin the work. Normally, I would launch a massive assault on the project buying gear, making lists, organizing tools and hardware until everything was just right, my partner was insane with impatience, and I was beyond the point of frustration. I was able to grasp that this approach would not be in keeping with my new found philosophy. I called a friend, consulted with the love of my life, and came up with a reasonable game plan: do what I can each day, and take each day one day at a time. If caulking a window seemed appropriate on a Monday, then I caulked. Leveling the floor might be the task to complete on Tuesday. I didn't have to plan weeks in advance, or stress over endless lists. If I mistakenly purchased the same item twice, I simply set the duplicate aside with the receipt to deal with later. If I lost a receipt for a particular item, I put it aside with a note to handle another day.
Days passed, tasks were accomplished, floors were leveled, drywall taped and mudded, primer applied, lights and outlets installed, tested and brought on line, and a host of other steps were taken to bring to a close the remodeling of the master bedroom. We have baseboard trim to apply, shelves to install in the new closet and final coats of paint to lay down, but the furniture is in place, and the dogs have given their approval. I am satisfied with the results, and with my attitude. The entryway awaits completion with no threat to my sanity. I have new tools that cost me nothing more than the time it took to pray, meditate and let my mind relax. I can look upon the past, and enjoy it without injecting the mistakes made into the future. The past always made me angry, and the future too often paralyzed me with fear. I never gave the present its full due, nor allowed myself to submit to the pleasure of just being. I submitted to the project before me, and the future became the present, and the present unraveled peacefully without all the pain and drama. Projects no longer threaten my sanity. In fact, each coat of paint, mud, flooring and primer acted as a healing salve.
My problems have not disappeared, but my preoccupation with them has dissipated along with the myths within which I enfolded myself. My false sense of security was shattered with my father's death, the onset of my mother's cancer, and my own exhaustion as I vainly pushed myself to adhere to unrealistic standards. I am reborn today. I can live with the goals I set, and enjoy the outcome.
The journey from foundations to final coat has paralleled my emergence from unimaginable sadness to blessed sanity. I am grateful for this gift and I thank God, my family, friends, and my partner. I am blessed, and for the first time in several years, I am eager to embrace all that life and God has to offer.
