We pull into the Home Depot parking lot and I jump out of the truck, instantly energized by all the potential this place generates. The crock-pot of my mind and heart starts bubbling up with all sorts of ideas.
And Dreams.
And Visions!
I am getting mildly intoxicated surrounded by smiling experts, exploding annuals and shiny power-tools. Paint department is by far my greatest weakness. I admit I am a recovering paint junkie and just seeing the rows of cans makes me realize that I absolutely need to re-paint our family room. It's been, what?... more than six months since I last painted it... and it's beginning to look a little drab... There is an irresistable magnetic pull towards the shelves with oops paint.
Of all home improvement projects, painting certainly gives you the biggest bang for your buck. It's probably one of the easiest, fastest jobs, providing instant, dramatic transformation of any room. Who could possibly object to that?!! In addition, there is that wonderful sense of closure, the bragging rights, the electrifying feeling of having accomplished something big which is sorely lacking in just about any other department of my life. Not to mention the oooohs and the aaaaahs of my fawning fans while I bask in the glory of my impeccable sense of aesthetic appeal ...
We didn't come here for paint. The Gardener lands me back on the ground with a thump. You don't NEED to paint. We need new hinges and some carpenter's glue, that's it. Let's go. The sooner we are done here, the sooner we take care of that door, and then we can enjoy our lunch.
He walks through the warehouse undistracted by the bathroom remodeling showrooms, the smell of new carpets, and the gorgeous kitchen cabinets... Trailing behind like a puppy jerked by its leash, I realize that all this potential converged in one place is generating inordinate amount of desire as well as discontentment with the things the way they are as opposed to where they should or even could be. The feeling is vaguely familiar, but I have to dig through the passages of memory to discover that most, if not all my past visits to Home Depot have ultimately led to this nagging sense of discontentment. Unfortunately, the fleeting whiff of inspiration invariably dissipates into the thin air on the way home. I am beginning to see that the visits to the land of potential, rather than causing me to take action and make appropriate or needed changes, actually create a sense of temporary paralysis that may take days to overcome and resume with ignoble activities like scrubbing the toilets, or cleaning the piggy's cage, or chopping vegetables for dinner.
I am quite shocked by the revelation.
How is it possible that something that is meant to be so good can have such a toxic effect?
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