On the Level

A friend’s old house that is regularly in need of repair, complex repairs. The house is so old that the floor slants in places and the windows don’t meet just right, even after replacement. When you put up wallpaper, it won’t align perfectly. You can hang a picture, but you can’t use a level to gauge how straight it is; you’re better off to eyeball it from a distance and adjust it accordingly.

You might ask why my friend puts up with this instead of moving or perhaps investing some serious coin in bringing in a foundation export. Some of it’s probably inertia; the family’s been there for more than thirty years. And part of it is a love for the parts of the place that do work and an honoring of the house’s history. As trainer Tom Smith says in the movie version of Seabiscuit, “You don’t throw a whole life away just ’cause he’s banged up a little bit.”

I think about the days my life was square and angular and the level bubble always had to be precisely in the middle. I knew exactly what everyone should or shouldn’t be doing, and often was overgenerous with this knowledge. Of course, there were also times I spent hours berating myself for not being perfect in every personal or professional interaction.

These days, I’m a lot more comfortable with the fact that neither I nor others are totally squared off and in alignment. It’s not that we don’t all try to do better, but as a friend once told me, “Don’t let perfect get in the way of good.” It’s in those off-kilter places that we show our humanity–and open ourselves up to gentle reconstruction.