Size does not affect impact

Some people prefer size over quality. I was one of those people for a very long time. I always figured that having something big and heavy meant that I had more and therefore enjoyed it more. I always liked the biggest trucks and the biggest bikes. Being an oversized individual myself, I always operated under the belief that bigger was better. It wasn’t until recently that I came to understand that beautiful things can come in the smallest packages and that happiness was blind.

One of my first leather projects was also one of my most ambitious. I did a set of saddlebags for my bike because if you are a biker and a leatherworker and you can’t make a set of custom bags for a tenth of the price then whats the point. Thinking back on it…ambitious is a bit of an understatement. I was completely in over my head, but desire and determination often override common sense. I had a pattern to work with which made it decidedly easier than having to do it completely from scratch, but that helped in simply transferring the pattern to the leather. I later came to find out that what I considered the hardest part of the job was actually the easiest.

There is a tremendous amount of work involved. The pattern has to be transferred to the leather and then cut out to form the body panels. every hole has to be counted out, and if you are just starting out and don’t have all of the fancy tools then you find yourself punching each hole out one by one with a small punch and a wooden mallet. That sounds easy enough until you realize that the bags you are making from this pattern have over two thousand holes. That makes for a very long day (week, actually). BY the time I was done with that part I was pretty ready to scrap the whole idea and move on to something else, but these were going to be my personal bags and I was determined to see it through to the end.

OIF/OEF Saddle Bags v2…..after they flew off the bike and were resurrected from the dead

Very long story short (you’re welcome), I punched all of the holes, tooled my designs on each panel, stained everything a beautiful saddle tan color, set Dee rings, cut and buckled the straps, riveted attachments where necessary, and then spent the next two weeks lacing the panels together with a nice decorative single loop lace. When all was complete I had a beautiful set of bags that I was insanely proud of and took great pains to show them off everywhere I went. Nothing could have made me more proud. I was wrong.

People were impressed and I was pleased with their reaction. It was good for my pride and gave me all the validation I felt I needed. It was proof that I could set big and lofty goals and achieve them. What’s not to like about that? A few years later I saw things differently. While visiting my mom’s side of the family in East Tennessee I took my tools and materials with me on the trip. My Mamaw (Grandmother, for those of you from the Norther Territory) she mentioned she always wanted a little bracelet with a daisy on it. Who am I to refuse my Mamaw anything?

Two hours later I gave her this. It was very basic and I almost laughed at how small a project this was. “What, are you kidding me? Of course I can do this Mamaw. I can make kick-ass saddle bags…twice! I can whip this out while you watch. Now watch me work and be amazed”. I didn’t say that….not all of that…out loud, but I sure was thinking that. I handed her the finished bracelet with the smug satisfaction of one who is entirely impressed with themselves and waited for the praise. No praise came…..not for a few minutes. She sat there running her hands over the surface of the bracelet. She felt the texture under her fingers as she turned it over in her wrinkled delicate hands. She held it up to her nose to smell the leather and peer at it from every angle. Her eyes so thoroughly devoured the thing that I didn’t notice the tear until it was running unchecked down her cheek.

She looked up at me with more tears running down her face and she thanked me for such a beautiful gift. I had done a few projects before this one, but I had never seen this kind of reaction…ever. I never even looked at my own work the same way she did. I never cried over those saddle bags. I got pissed, but I never cried. At that moment I felt like I had never loved anything as much as she loved that simple little bracelet, but I promised myself that I would never again take for granted the impact of even the seemingly smallest token in my life.  While big gestures are appreciated it is often easy to lose sight of the intent when your field of vision is overwhelmed by the size and the scope of the thing. Most often, the smallest gesture or token of love and appreciation are what speak to the soul most clearly. The details and the finishing touches are the hugs and gentle touches on the soul and will leave an indelible impression on a person for the rest of their lives.

#Appreciation #Zen