Life Carpentry [David’s blog on DR Thursday]

Posted on September 24, 2026 by davidrobinsoncreative

I teased Kerri that this morning that the first thing on my to-do list was to build the ark. It rained again last night. It’s raining now. I’m not talking about gentle downpours; this is an Alabama rain, tropical, an incessant dumping after yesterday’s dumping preceded by the dumping of rain the day before that. Kerri reminded me that my carpentry skills are lacking so, even if I built something that resembled a boat, no animal with good sense would get on it. I have to admit it, she’s right. I’d never set sail on a boat of my own construction.

A few days-that-feel-like-months ago, the sun came out. In the early evening we sat outside so Dogga could sniff the fence line and bark at random sounds. He’s an old dog now so it makes him feel good to bark into the universe. While he investigated the backyard and the greater galaxy, we sat in our Adirondack chairs and watched the clouds. They glowed, putting on quite a show for us. While the beauty of this world evokes a rowdy bark from Dogga, it does the opposite for us: it invites quiet appreciation. It was one of those rare moments when I knew to my bones -at least in that moment – that all was right in my world.

In that moment. Every spiritual tradition on the planet warns of the folly of trying to hang onto the feeling of a moment. The best we can do is savor and move on.

It is good practice to regularly step back from a canvas and from a distance look at the painting. It brings the whole composition back into focus. Stepping back exposes what is invisible when working close-in. “What’s next” becomes readily apparent when standing back. It’s route finding.

The same thing is true in life. It’s why people take vacations or go on retreats or simply take-a-break. To get some distance from our close-in lives and feel what we do not allow ourselves to fully feel, to re-consider, to open the door and invite in the dreams that have been waiting patiently in the lobby.

Sitting in the Adirondack chair, watching with awe the cloud-spectacular, I heard Joseph Campbell in my mind, saying, “No one lives the life they intended.” Had the younger version of me actually built the boat of my intentions and successfully sailed off toward the horizon, I would have missed this moment, Dogga bark-communing with the universe, Kerri and I reveling with the sun on our faces after days of rain, holding hands, shaking our heads at the impossible beauty of the glowing clouds. I thanked all the powers-that-be that my carpenter skills were-and-are lacking, that my life-ship sank in the bay and required me to step back, take a look and live a life of route finding. My path meandered to a place I never imagined, to a moment I did not think was possible. Simple awe. Had I been a better life-carpenter I would have missed it.