Legos…a wonderful creation, a splendid toy that sparks creativity over and over again. As a child, when I visited my Grandma Betty, I would play with a box full of the simple but brilliantly designed plastic pieces for hours. Red, yellow, blue, white connectable rectangles in different sizes became epic spacecraft, naval fleets, and Indy cars. The prized wheels and slanted blocks took my creations to new levels. It brought my young heart joy to see the fruits of my labor come together so quickly.
I enjoyed my Grandma Betty’s box of Legos so much because there were no instructions, no pictures to follow, no fine-tuning, no delicate finish pieces, no stickers to painstakingly place evenly before the project could be considered complete. When I said it was done, it was done. If half way through the magnificent Fort Apache I decided to start the Empire State Building, I could do it. Unlike those pesky car models that demanded each piece go where it belonged, and never seemed to get finished because I didn’t have the patience to attach decals or paint.
Nor were my Lego masterpieces like the chores around the house that were never done right because I couldn’t quite get to the final details of completing them. I’d sweep, but the dirt would stay in a pile. I’d mow, but the edges stayed high. I’d shovel the snow, but the powdery lines remained between shovel trails.
It’s the same today as an adult. It’s hard to finish a job. And it makes sense that this is where the struggle lies. When first starting a project, or a new adventure in life, the initial stages are exciting, fun, and you can see tremendous results. This is why some people are in constant seas of change; they are addicted to the fantastic results they gain when they start something new. Unfortunately, success almost always comes thanks to the finish work. In a move, the bulk of the furniture loads smooth, and the job seems to move quickly, but the move’s not complete without the little items, and these seem to be endless. The edges of a puzzle assembles with ease, and with highly visual results, but the final pieces of the puzzle, the ones you have to search for, wait for, sometimes agonize for, those pesky pieces in the center…those are what make the puzzle a success. The first week of working out creates sore, pumped muscles, but without consistency, the gains are minimal.
Starting new careers, changing jobs, finding new hobbies can all be good things. But if it is a pattern, we need to analyze ourselves, and ask? Do I seek constant change because I’m afraid of the hard work it takes to achieve true success? Am I addicted to the instant gratification of starting projects?
I know I’ve been guilty of this. I love the initial learning process. I’ve always picked up things pretty quickly, but rarely had the discipline for mastery. When I first started writing screenplays, I leapt into books on the subject, I banged out junk on my laptop, I sought feedback—and unfortunately got it. I reread and rewrote until I started to get the feedback I desired. Danny and I finished a great script. But then, the finish work.
Selling.
It was like the air was let out of my balloon. The temptation to start new things arose. “Another script is what we need, then we’ll start the selling process.”
Another script was completed.
“One more should do it.” We told ourselves.
And that script was completed.
“This story must be told. To the computer, the muse calls, we’ll hit the door to door sales when this masterpiece is done.”
And that script was completed.
“A novel would be easier to sell, let’s write one of those.”
A novel was completed…
And now here we sit, again. But this time we’re not taking the first “No.” as a sign we should write more. We’re going after it again. We’re going to keep writing, but we’re not stopping the selling until the job gets done. It could be today? It could be five years from now? But this time, we’re putting in the finish work.
Lego’s have become more advanced over the years. More than ever, the Lego products are more like models. You buy a box of an infinite variation of pieces, and to get it right, you must follow the directions carefully. And if you want it to look just like the picture on the box, you have to place every sticker in just the right place. Because when you do, that plastic model comes alive, the stickers are what make it worthy of the shelf.
My son has many of these neat little Lego models—which I’ve helped him build. Unfortunately, few have the stickers. It’s so much fun in the beginning, it takes shape so quickly, and it looks almost like the box when there still seems to be a hundred pieces left. It’s times like these when I miss that box of simple yet brilliant pieces at Grandma Betty’s place.
With Legos—and sometimes in life—it’s alright to enjoy the first fruits, to test the waters, to see if the endeavor is worth taking on, and if not? Move on…but sometimes, if we really want success, if we want to go to the next level, we have to stick to our guns, finish the job, stay the course, put in the 80% perspiration after the 20% inspiration, find the glory in the details…sometimes, if you want to get it right, you can’t forget about those stickers.
TREV
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