The Meltdown

I have been interested in fusing glass for several years and had acquired everything necessary to try it -- except the courage to face my ultimate enemy -- fear of failure.

The logical part of my mind understands that it is normal to start at zero and gradually amass the skills required for any undertaking, but the more primitive part of my brain wants to be perfect from the beginning -- failure is not an option.

The day before Thanksgiving, I finally gathered up enough courage to fuse together a few bits of glass. As often happens, things went smoothly and the pieces looked nicer than I expected.

Thus lulled into a greater sense of confidence, I fused a batch of glass every other day or so, each time, without incident. The results were satisfactory, but not outstanding.

Then I tried to fuse on Saturday.

The glass and I had a meltdown.

For some reason -- I think it was because it was a windy day -- the kiln took longer than usual to reach the first benchmark temperature.

What I now know is that the glass was thoroughly warm at that point and I should have very carefully monitored the rest of the process. Instead, I kept an eye on the pyrometer at the intervals I had found worked before.

The result? The glass -- and I -- had a total meltdown.

There's something very disheartening about opening up a kiln and seeing puddles of glass on the shelf. It's even more discouraging to see molten glass hanging from the side of the kiln lid. If you've ever seen cheese dangling from a slice of pizza, you get the idea.

After the glass and I cooled off, I discovered the results weren't as catastrophic as I thought. The kiln is still usable and I have since fused glass without incident.

So, what did I learn from this?

In most cases, it's ok to make mistakes. Don't be surprised when you do, and keep track of what you've done so you can avoid making the same mistake over again. It was easier to figure out what happened because I had started a firing log.

Don't ignore your instincts. I had a feeling that I should check the kiln sooner, but didn't. Next time, I will be more aware of all aspects of my endeavors. The past can serve as a guide, but each situation is unique and must be treated as such.

Accept and appreciate the support of your family and friends. When you are no longer rational or able to objectively look at a situation, their input is invaluable.

Don't be afraid to fail. If I succeed at everything, I have only verfied what I can do. When the outcome is less than stellar, I have the opportunity to find a way to make it better and to increase my knowledge.

I can see life as a series of adventures and seek new experiences, recognizing that I will stumble on occasion, or I can seek out the familiar and continue doing what I know without any risk of failure -- or growth.

I choose adventure!

A false sense of security

As I took my morning walk today I saw a bunny. It is not uncommon to see at least one bunny when I walk, but this particular bunny caught my eye because he (she?) didn't run as I approached. It continued to munch away on the vegetation as I walked past.

Why? Because the bunny was on the other side of a chain link fence and beyond my reach.

The bunny felt safe because the fence provided a barrier of protection. What the bunny didn't know was that the fence surrounded our neighbor's dog run - and he was on the inside!

Blackjack, the dog, wasn't in the area - he's too old to bother chasing a bunny anyway, so the bunny really was safe. (Maybe it wasn't such a "dumb bunny" after all.)

This made me think about the times I've felt safe when I really shouldn't and the times when I've not felt safe when I should have.

I have chosen to place my self in "danger" by, among other things, going whitewater rafting and flying with $5 Frank.

Then there were the times when I have felt fearful when there was no need, usually in situations when I was "on stage", either figuratively, or literally.

In both cases my reaction was a choice. So, what did I learn from my bunny buddy? Examine your situation and remember to choose your reaction wisely.

Oh, and the bunny? I saw it again this afternoon. This time it was outside of the fence, and it still didn't run from me!