I’m Reid! I write about my life experiences and how we can all live in brave new ways. Dare You is a reader-supported publication. To receive weekly posts and support my work, please consider becoming a free or paid subscriber.
When I was kid, I was obsessed with rocks.
While other kids were asking for Barbies and video games, I only remember the toys that gave meaning. As a kid, the activity my Dad and I enjoyed doing together was tumble rocks. I can’t recall what triggered the obsession; it was kinda like love… you blink and it’s there.
We had a tiny rock tumbler sitting on the counter in the bathroom next to the kitchen of “the old house,” where for weeks…sometimes months, we would tumble rocks. I became obsessed. I’d spend the afternoons walking through the local creek in my Tevas looking for rocks to tumble. My Dad and I would drive 40 minutes to the rock store where I would sift through a bunch of random rocks and stare in awe at those that had already been through the process I intended to carry out. The process would take 6 weeks minimum and sometimes a couple of months. I’d sit on the bathroom counter, and my Dad would enter with a Bud Light, and we’d just stare at the rock tumbler while it went round and round. I was just fascinated by the process. And when the time finally came… we’d open the tumbler, and there they were… a bunch of shiny ass rocks. All kinds of colors… green, brown, silver, red, multicolored. It was the coolest thing.
Tumbling rocks with my Dad taught me from a very young age that good things take time. It taught me patience. I learned the value of working towards something over a long period of time for a bigger reward. It felt amazing to witness something that might have been considered ugly turn into something shiny and beautiful. And those rocks only became shiny and beautiful because I chose to make them so. It felt creative, inspiring, and worth it.
I’ve been thinking a lot about patience lately and pouring your time into something you care about, with the hopes that it will work out. Even though I learned those lessons at a young age, I still find myself forgetting at times that good things take time. They take patience, and perseverance, and trust. UGH! But I want it all to be certain now!
We live in a society where most things happen fast. We can communicate with someone across the globe in the blink of an eye and have have dinner delivered to us in our high-rise apartment by a complete stranger whenever we please. We can swipe on a dating app and meet up with the person on the other side of the screen an hour later and hire a stranger to drive us to whatever destination we choose. It’s easy to forget that not everything is designed to come to us in the fast-paced chaotic speed we are accustomed to. In fact.. the best things aren’t. The best things take time. You aren’t able to get Michelin star food delivered to your home, and convenience doesn’t always mean quality.
There is romance in the wait. You learn things about yourself in the pursuit and the dedication it takes to create something worthwhile. And sometimes, at the end of the long road you chose to take, you don’t get what you want. Not all the rocks my Dad and I tumbled turned out perfectly polished… some came out looking worse than they did before they entered the tumbler. But it was worth the experience. I guess thats like in life as well. You can stick with something, give it your all, and still have it not work out as you had hoped. I went to the movies with a friend Sunday night who had a stint as a Pilates instructor. She spent all the time and money to complete training, taught for a year or two, but in the end it was not the right fit for her. “Yeah, but It feels like spent all this time and money for nothing.” She said. We all have our own version of that, giving it your all to ultimately not win like you thought you would in the end. But looking back, you will see that it was worth it, and you wouldn’t be where you are today without that experience.
It is important to remember that good things take time, not as an excuse for us to sit back and not put in the effort daily or tell ourselves we have all the time in the world…but so that we can remember not to settle. So that when the going gets tough, and it will, we know that it’s all a part of the process, and quitting is not in our cards. Not yet. And if you have yet to learn this lesson… go tumble rocks.
-Reid
"You aren’t able to get Michelin star food delivered to your home, and convenience doesn’t always mean quality." This resonated with me well beyond just food. Ah. I needed this today. Thank you so much for being here.
This whole entry really made me feel appreciative of slow living, or at least the attempt to really take in the small activities and be present in them. Especially since there never seems to be enough time in the mornings to take things slow...but I digress.