Take Care of the Edges
My Father’s memory is of the back of his head. He was always studying, taking notes, learning. He came home from work, ate the supper that was ready when he came home, and spent each evening reading, studying, working on projects that he brought home. His office was also our dining room, so we knew to clear the table quickly after dinner, slide the table back into the slot in the wall, and leave my father to his work. He was neither a tyrant nor a pal. He was, in fact, a rocket scientist.
He was also a talented artist. He used his gift for technical drawings, but he occasionally did small drawing for us and turned them into birthday cards or notes. Occasionally, he would become briefly involved in his children’s lives. One afternoon, I was destroying a slice of bread, trying to get cold peanut butter on the freshly-baked slice. He surveyed the scene, took in my frustration, and said, “Take care of the edges, the middle will take care of itself.†He was right. The sturdy crust helped the edges hold onto the cold peanut butter, and as I carefully applied it up to the edges, the spread warmed and made it easy to hit the soft middle.
Turns out that this advice works well in the rest of life as well. Fitted sheets attached by the corners, pull the wrinkles out across the middle of the bed. Watercolor and acrylic backgrounds, started at the edges will not buckle the paper and won’t get overworked in the center of the page. Same with the glue in a collage—start it at the edges, work it carefully into the corners, and the middle will be done without effort.
And problems, solved from the outside in, stay solved. When we get involved with just the middle of a problem, it often continues to creep out along the edges of our lives, creating more work. Squelching a rumor with a loud assertion doesn’t have nearly the effect as living a credible life. Who knew that a peanut butter sandwich, observed by a rocket scientist, could echo so well over time?
–Photo, above, of her father’s family. Quinn McDonald creates notecards, journals and paper bowls as an artist and is a certified creativity coach who watches the edges of peoples lives, knowing the middle will take care of itself. See her work at www.QuinnCreative.com
