If I were to condense all of my Dad’s fatherly advice during my childhood to one sentence, it would be “don’t force it.” He usually meant it literally; if I was putting something together or taking it apart and something got stuck or wouldn’t fit. “Don’t force it,” he’d say, and every time I strip a screw or snap a piece of plastic in half trying to put something together, I hear that in my head. Dammit, Dad, I forced it.
Remember that every time you’re turning a wrench or driving a screw and you’ll break less stuff.
But the saying is also useful outside the garage. In that sense, it means almost exactly what’s on Charles Bukowski’s grave. Bukowski’s version says, “Don’t try.” And rather than put words in a dead man’s mouth, I’ll use his words to explain. Bukowski said, “Somebody asked me: "What do you do? How do you write, create?" You don't, I told them. You don't try. That's very important: not to try, either for Cadillacs, creation or immortality. You wait, and if nothing happens, you wait some more. It's like a bug high on the wall. You wait for it to come to you. When it gets close enough you reach out, slap out and kill it. Or if you like its looks, you make a pet out of it."
And just like Bukowski’s maxim, my Dad’s “don’t force it,” isn’t an admonition to not apply yourself. It’s a reminder to use the right amount of effort at the right time.
Making new friends? Don’t force it. Everyone needs human connection. It’s a universal human drive. So, when you’re in a new group of people, you’re going to want to make new friends. That’s good. But if you force it by acting overly needy, possessive, or demanding that everyone be your friend? You’ll find nobody wants to be friends with you. That’s bad.
Instead, be patient and have confidence. But like everything, don’t force that confidence. Confidence is great, but too much of it turns into arrogance. Arrogance makes you an asshole, and the only people who like that are other assholes. So, lest you become an asshole who’s only friends with other assholes, sprinkle that confidence with some humility. Everybody’s shit stinks, even yours. Trust me, after two and a half years of changing your diapers, I know.
Finding real friends takes patience, but when you click with someone you won’t need to force it, you’ll just know. And don’t take this as me telling you to not be friendly. You can be friendly to everyone without being friends with everyone.
What about romantic relationships? Again, don’t force it. Love isn’t always easy, but it’s also not supposed to be that hard. My friend Dan said that to me once, years after we’d both finally figured that out. And it may be a lesson you need to learn on your own. I didn’t know that in my 20’s and 30’s, and I spent too much time in relationships that just weren’t right. The misfit can be personal or situational; you might not be ready or the other person might be an asshole, either one can make it not work. I either finally figured it out when I met your Mom, or she was the reason I figured it out. Either way, for the first time, it really worked.
Career choices? This one’s harder, but still, don’t force it. Finding the right career and deciding what you want to do is an overlap between having the right opportunity and having the skills and desire to make the most of that opportunity. Just like you can’t play in the NBA if you don’t know how to dribble a basketball, you can’t get a job as an accountant if you don’t know anything about math.
It can be frustrating, and it certainly has been for me, but if the opportunity isn’t there, it doesn’t matter how much you want it, there’s no forcing someone to hire you. What you can do is work on your craft, prepare for your opportunity and be sure that when the opportunity does show up, you have the skills you need to make the most of it.
So whether it’s Cadillacs, creation, immortality, or making new friends, finding love, and finding your career, don’t try and don’t force it. When the fit is right and the opportunity makes itself clear, make the most of what’s there. You’ll break less stuff and kill more bugs.
I love you,
Dad
I originally planned to finish this series in twelve months, intending to write one entry a week for 52 weeks. But, other things came up and I didn’t have as much time as I thought I would. We moved, you started a new school, I had other projects, etc. But finally, I’m starting my last entry in September, nine months after I’d planned. Which is the perfect intro to this one.
Time is funny like that. It marches on like a metronome, indifferent to how much you wish it would slow down or speed up. It offers no do-overs, no matter how frivolously you spend it. And it gives zero fucks what you planned to accomplish in the time you had. Once that time is over, you’ll get no more. But, it also stretches out ahead of you into an unknown future, offering untold possibility and infinite choices.
Which is why I hope you both learn to make choices about how you spend your time and understand what those choices mean. Because while there’s never enough time for everything, there’s still enough time to do almost anything.