Scar tissue
I’ve been travelling and that Substack feature where I can write ‘on the go’ really didn’t work out. Somehow having another reason to type on the phone isn’t the best way to ‘live in the moment’, I guess.
There’s been a lot of self-reflection over the past few weeks. Or, a lot of emotions that surfaced — not sure if it’s self-reflection per se but this is perhaps the first time I took a break/travelled far and where some of the anxiety buried in layers were revealed. Like hearing the even hiss when slowly opening a fairly shaken Coke PET bottle.
I know after having met with family and friends that I’m lucky, that I’m privileged. But I don’t feel immediately better knowing this, and think it’ll take some time to get rid of the layers of anxiety that’s been building up over the past few years around construction and my previous work place.
Construction is hard.
Construction is hard when it’s something that then transitions into a business.
Construction is hard with family. For all the good reasons.
It’s hard to shift suddenly one’s career, end one chapter abruptly, to then do…construction.
There were so many moments during the trip when I felt at home, safe, welcomed, comfortable and in a state where I could reflect and be in the moment. Plenty of moments also on my phone, not being able to get rid of my daily habits.
I told a good friend in my post trip email that I really felt that the trip was the start where the wounds from the few past years started to heal. Some sort of a beginning. The friend responded that there’ll be scar tissues and I won’t probably heal 100%. I think he’s right. Despite the scars the goal is to live a full life. How?
I notice the wounds and fresh scar tissue in me and in the building. I see them and think about how I got the wound and it still hurts sometimes to think about them.
Why is construction and this particular process so hard? Is it the financial burden? Is it the perfectionist goal and structure and design not living up to the expectations? Like, I don’t get it. It’s not like there aren’t more pressing and harder things in life.
Construction is supposed to be noble.
It’s the most human element of making a mark — a start of a colony.
The visceral feeling of conquering. Is this only a ‘man’ thing?
Maybe.
Few have the opportunity to build, and/or be part of a build. And I think for those who build, the pain is flipped by the pride of having been part of something that’s bigger than oneself, a sort of conquerer’s syndrome. The more noble approach to justify the pain of construction is to appreciate the house(s) being full of life and being able to facilitate spaces that create nice memories and moments for people.
That’s why it takes a certain type of a designer to build buildings that aren’t meant for creating good memories, maybe?
So deep.
One more thing on scars before I go.
My mixed martial arts trainer from a few years back mentioned that if I ever end up in a situation where I’d have to use my skills to kick ass (hahah, can you imagine?) that I should avoid attacking the face — go with low kicks and the knee. Because a scar/wounds in the face is a constant reminder in the morning mirror to continue to be angry at you — and not to forget, to seek revenge. Yikes.
And I think, in a very weird way, construction and the scars in the building are visual reminders of what went wrong — where we fell short, in a way. And that’s hard.
I’m ok though — it’s just sometimes a lot.
Sorry for not having written anything for such a long time. I think it’s a year since I started to write on Substack! Thank you for reading, subscribing and supporting me.
Hugs,
Hans