I think, therefore I'm anal?

I’m tired of hearing don’t sweat the small stuff. I like the small stuff. I think life is in the details. If you can’t appreciate the details, how can you appropriately appreciate the broad strokes?

I love the paintings by Vincent Van Gogh. I think I appreciate his genius more because I know some of the details behind the canvas…behind the big, thick impressionistic strokes of that Starry Night. Does this make me an “over-thinker,” as a dear friend recently labeled me? Am I compulsive? Anal? Or do I just like the details.

What does “over-thinker” mean anyway? Taken out of context it can mean many things. In my case, my friend means that I see things and then do things to ensure the happiness of others. At least I think this is what my friend means. I think she’s wrong. I’m much more selfish than that. I do things for others because it makes them happy, and this in turn makes me happy…and I like to be happy.

This same friend calls me detail oriented. She’s right. Details hit my radar. I’m one to move quickly and take care of the details before I sit and relax. It’s how I’m programmed and I don’t mind. As I said, I like the details. Once I attend to the details, I completely relax. I believe that details are the foundation of our lives. It’s in the details that we can build our futures, see our hopes and realize our dreams.

I also like easy. It’s the details that I sweat because they’re easy to sweat…easy to take care of, and easy to scratch off my “to do” list. I don’t usually sweat the larger, more difficult stuff. If I take care of the details, then I rarely have anything considered large to sweat. I like it this way. Less drama, fewer emergencies or unpleasant surprises.

This doesn’t mean my life runs like clockwork. It doesn’t, and I wouldn’t want it to—mainly because I enjoy spontaneity and resist rigid structure. So how do I keep up with the details? I don’t know…I just do.

Taking care of the details doesn’t mean big old nasty stuff won’t come my way. It does…and I handle it in the details. When my husband had prostate cancer a few years back, I worried about his welfare and our future, but I was much calmer, more secure in the outcome, because I took care of the details. I did the research, set up the appointments, and took care of the paperwork. I made sure we prepared for the outcome—for better or worse—and discussed the issues and communicated our concerns with each other and the doctors. I guess I sweated the small stuff and let the large stuff, of which I had no control, take care of itself. And it did.

When it came time for my husband’s knee surgery this year, I tried another approach. I didn’t take care of the details (or “over-think” things) as I normally would. My husband told me not to worry. I remember hearing “No brainer…no second consultation necessary,” and “yada…yada…yada.” My bad. While things didn’t work out so well for the knee, some good has come from this experience. My husband has more appreciation for the details…or rather, how I usually take care of them.

Details follow me wherever I go. On a road trip, I may bring some bev naps, paper plates, plastic cups, coffee and a variety of munchies from my kitchen cupboard. I may also take a scented candle, extra roll of paper towels and yes, toilet paper. When I take care of these details, it makes me happy that neither I (nor anyone else) will have to make an unexpected trip to the store. If we choose to go to the store, say for something fun for the cocktail hour, then it’s our choice—but we don’t have to go unless we want to go. This makes me happy. I provide options, choices…and I make things more comfortable for my friends, my family and myself. Does this take much time? No. Effort? No. Does it put me out in any way? Absolutely not. I just apply a few tiny brush strokes with some spare paint.

The same friend who labeled me an “over-thinker” also believes my over-thinking makes me an interesting writer. She says I see things that others don’t. She says I see (and hear) everything, but with different eyes and different ears than the average chica. Perhaps she is right. Maybe my love of details helps me put things into perspective—or at least my perspective.

It’s true, I don’t just stop to smell the roses. I want to know what type of roses they are, who planted them and then cared for them so that one day I could stop and appreciate the loving little details behind their perfume, and whoever attended to those details.

I’m also a doer. I see something that needs doing and I usually do it. Sometimes willingly and other times not so much. Regardless of my state of mind at the time, I usually feel good afterward. I have a sense of accomplishment and the gratification that I did the right thing. Whether it’s lending a hand in the kitchen, writing an essay to make a friend laugh, or preparing for my husband’s surgery, the details are my friends.

The details are the dots that I connect to get the big picture…and ultimately, it’s the big picture that I’m after. Maybe I just have a different point of view with enhanced peripheral vision that leads me through the big canvas of life. While this canvas appears to be made up of big broad strokes, a closer examination reveals that it’s chock full of tiny little intricate details that I cherish.

Some of you may be thinking “compulsive” right now. You may be right. However, I think my love of details relates to my work ethic more than anything else. My work has always been detailed, and I take pride in the details. Therefore, I appreciate the details that others take care of…as much for the comfort and joy they bring, as in the effort behind them. It’s been said that behind every detail is a person, and behind every person that accomplished that detail there are those who will never appreciate that detail. Okay, I just made this up...so now it’s been said. My point is that appreciation of the details is not for everyone—and that’s okay.

We’re all wired differently, thank goodness. We all have separate radars. Mine is more finely tuned to the details and has been my entire life. I don’t expect other people to be as detailed as I am. Nor do I want my attention to detail to cause others to feel disorganized or inefficient. Some people don’t do well with details…and I understand. But do these people understand me? Alas, I fear not. I’ve been likened to the “Energizer Bunny” on more than one occasion. Very few get to see me sleeping peacefully, unencumbered each night, as I usually do, after a long day of taking care of details.

So I ask, “I think, therefore I’m anal?” or, “I think, therefore I’m me?” I guess the answer is in the details.

Every man’s life ends the same way. It is only the details of how he lived and how he died that distinguish one man from another.

~ Ernest Hemingway

Dedicated to my dear (dear) Mrs. Cox…who claims she appreciates this detail-oriented, over-thinker. Me thinks she might be exaggerating a wee bit. I’m not that detailed, and I suspect that she doesn’t really appreciate me and my details all that much either! Ciao Mama!

© 2006 Teresa G. Franta