A Generation Lacking In Patience

When I told my friends I was going to build, instead of buy, the kitchen island for our apartment, I got a range of responses. All negative.

The sarcastic “yeah, sure you are” , the direct “we’re just gonna end up having to buy one after yours breaks”, or the admittedly funny but still hurtful “get a load of bob the builder.”

In their defense, building a kitchen island was never the plan. We knew our NY apartment would be small, so buying a kitchen island seemed like a smart way to make extra countertop space and storage. A few well targeted Home Depot ads later and buying a kitchen island soon turned into building a butcher block countertop island from scratch with no prior construction experience.

Now, more than 2 years later, I want the record to show that I not only built that kitchen island, but I built it well. Countless dinner parties and kitchen spills later and she’s prettier than ever.

Well built as is it though, this is not a story of how to build a kitchen island. 

Rather, this is a story of how to build. Or better yet, a story of why to build. 

Why build a kitchen island when you can buy one? Sure. But also, why put in the time and effort to build anything?

Why put in the energy to build a perfect relationship when the perfect person is one swipe away? Why risk the journey of self discovery when we can just let the world tell us who we are?  Why toil to create a happy life when we can just reach for the people and things that bring us immediate, though short-lived, gratification?

In an age of accessibility and optionality - when the things we want most are marketed as just one click, search, master class, or credit card swipe away, when it’s said to only be a matter of finding the right person or job - why forgo what could be acquired in an instant and take the time to build?

In building my kitchen island, I learned important lessons in the value of taking time to build. Lessons that extend beyond amateur kitchen construction and have informed how I think about life and relationships and purpose. 

First though, let’s start at the beginning: with my kitchen island and four lessons I learned while building it about why meaningful things are built, not found.

1. MEANINGFUL THINGS CAN’T BE BUILT ALONE

Believe it or not, all of my friends in the city pulled up to help me build the island, including the deliverer of the bob the builder joke. They helped sand the butcher block, apply the wood stain, drill the holes for the legs - they did it all. I’ll only admit it in the blog, but I couldn’t have built it without them.

In an almost comical irony, the things we want most are the most difficult to get. But almost as if by design, the most difficult things to get can rarely be got alone. 

By forcing us to rely on others to build the lives we want, God reminds us that we need people. No man is an island, and ironically, building one helped me understand that.

2. YOU CARE FOR THINGS THAT YOU’VE BUILT

The popular story goes that back in the 1950s, General Mills wanted to sell more of its Betty Crocker cake mix. Their recipe at the time was simple: mix the boxed powder with water and stick it in the oven. Despite the recipe’s convenience, sales were falling short of expectations.

They hired psychologist Ernest Dichter, and he recommended a small change: instead of including powdered eggs in the boxed mix, ask home cooks to add a fresh egg. In other words, make the home cook do more work.

Sales soared.

It turns out the simplicity of the original recipe turned home cooks off. It was too easy. Consumers seemed to value the end product much more when they had to work for it.

IKEA liked this idea too.

And now, this so-called IKEA effect has trickled its way down to me: dedicating an entire blog post to a simple kitchen island we built in a couple days And the love doesn’t stop there: I have special cleaning supplies for the kitchen island, I have special maintenance oil for the kitchen island, I regularly watch over the kitchen island, protecting it from the nasty things my untrained roommates and houseguests may throw at it.

All this to say, perhaps the reason we so easily throw away the things we should value the most is because we got them too easily. When we work for the things we want, when we invest time and effort into them, when they’re not just handed to us, we value them differently. Why would I - how could I - so easily let go of something I worked so hard to get?

3. PEOPLE NOTICE THINGS THAT WERE BUILT

Dinner Party FAQ: “Where did you get your kitchen island?”

To have the things that most people want, you’ll have to do the things that most people won’t.

And most people won’t take the time to build.

When you do, they’ll notice.

4. THINGS THAT YOU’VE BUILT ARE TRULY YOURS

Back in the 17th century, John Locke threw his two cents into the debate on private property and ownership. The question - when does something become your property? His answer:

Once we mix our labor with something - once we invest hard work into it - that thing becomes our thing. 

That kitchen island is mine in every sense of the word. Not only does it belong to me, it was made for me. Because it was made by me. 

It looks just the way I want kitchen islands to look. It works the way I want kitchen islands to work. That means it won’t look and work the way other people might want theirs to. But that’s okay.  They can just build their own 🙂

If we want lives that truly feel like our own, it’s critical that we mix them with our labor. That we take all the effort and energy and work and time we need to make a life that feels authentic. It won’t be perfect, but it will be perfect for you.

. . .

When you’re building, patience is key. What you start with won’t look the same as what you end with. And that’s as true for kitchen islands as it is for relationships and careers and life journeys.

Too often, we want the finished product at the beginning. But with a little bit of patience, we can build lives that are truly meaningful.  

Sincerely, 

Bob the Builder