THINK BIG

And the beauty of starting where you are with what you have.

The top branch stood at least twelve feet high.

The banana tree I crafted with fabric and wood, and held together with hot glue and floral wire, was not going to be moved easily. After some thought and several turns about the base, the movers decided to pick the whole thing up and lay it down the length of the box truck. As I followed the moving truck to our new home, I could see that some of the fabric leaves were left sticking out and were caught in the door that was rolled down and latched.

The tree survived the move, but just barely. I took it down after a dinner party when the husband of one of my friends asked if the tree had been left by the previous owners of our new house.

It looked that bad.

I remembered the tree, one of my first extra-large creations, when I found two leaves on the very top shelf of my closet. I must have saved them when the tree was dismantled. Like Dr. Frankenstein, I find it hard to part with my creations.

I’m sure I started creating when I was a kid. Photo by YY TEOH on Unsplash

Some people crochet; my grandmother did needlepoint. I recall her sitting in her large overstuffed brown La-Z-Boy chair with a lighted magnifying glass that made her fingers look like kielbasa sausages. I’ve never been attracted to building a ship in a bottle or whittling a branch into a toothpick. My mind just doesn’t work like that. When my creative lightbulb clicks on at 3:00 a.m., I’m thinking about the slat wall I built using reclaimed wooden pallets I gathered from the roadside, or the red brick pizza oven that took me weeks to build, inspired by a girl’s trip to Italy. I have no intention of ever parting with those two little darlings.

Looking back, I can see that extra-large has been somewhat of a lifestyle motto and parenting style … “Go big or go home”… “All or nothing” and, of course, “If you’re not going to do it well, it’s better not to do it at all.” My husband would add in sports analogies, “Leave it all on the field” and “Swing away!” I’m sure I once saw him playing ball with the kids in the backyard, pointing the bat toward the sky as if he were Babe Ruth, gesturing at his next home run.

My father-in-law lived with us for a few years. He used to watch me building and creating from sunup to sundown, and laughing when he said, “One day you will not be able to do that. You will slow down.” At the time, I was adamant that it would never happen.

Which makes it even more difficult to admit the problem that I’m having now, which is not the lack of extra-large ideas; it’s that I keep running out of gas! My 3:00 a.m. lightbulbs spring me out of bed in the morning, ready to tackle the world. But by noon, I’m ready to throw in the towel.

It’s so easy to think that because I can’t do something extraordinary, I can’t do anything at all.

And now I’m taking to heart another slogan that I’ve repeated over the years: “Start where you are with what you have.”

It may take me a little longer, and my projects may not be as extra-large, but I’m still going to think big.