CRANES

I wrote the following column—about why I love cranes—three days before a crane collapse in Manhattan. Because “why I love cranes” is such a random topic, and because I don’t believe in coincidences, the whole thing freaked me out a bit. Here I was, touting the beauty of a piece of machinery responsible for the death of several people in a nearby, beloved city. What was the meaning or message in this “coincidence,” I began to wonder. After several days of sitting with this question, this is what I’ve come up with: Things, people, and events can be beautiful and destructive at the same time. Indeed, there was some hint of this observation in my original column, though I didn’t quite get to a place of unity between beauty and destruction prior to hearing news of the NYC crane accident. Still, intimations of it were there.

This observation has been a liberating insight for me. I had recently been told (and this probably wasn’t the first time) that my problem in life is that “I’m never satisfied.” I was beating myself up about this, trying to will myself into satisfaction, even as Steve Earl’s and Mick Jagger’s lyrics were each, in turn, blaring from my car stereo (from songs titled I Ain’t Ever Satisfied and Satisfaction/I Can’t Get No, respectively). Then something clicked. Yes, this dynamic that lives within me may be somewhat destructive, but there is also something beautiful about it. My lack of satisfaction has led me to continue to strive, to not give up when it would have been the easy thing to do, to make some things better, and to make other things happen—period. With song lyrics supporting me, I began to embrace this fault, error, or pathology that lives deep within me and then to feel free, which is the one state I actually find better-than-satisfying.

The end of the life of any individual is tragic for those left behind. This is especially true when death comes, literally, by accident—unexpected and untimely. Death itself, though, is beautiful if we can truly embrace it, as are our “pathologies” when we can embrace and respect them for what they are. Below is the column I originally wrote—now dedicated to the many individuals who work in the construction industry.

Steel Lace
Steel lace. That’s the thought that came to mind on the day I first fell in love with cranes. They’re strange objects to fall in love with, especially for someone whose only connection with the construction industry is a brother who was an Iron Worker for a brief period of time. I find it difficult to know why I love them so much, and believe the pictures tell the story better than I can. I love the way they seem to bridge the sky with the earth; I love their confidence—standing tall and as if they own the space they inhabit; I love their strength, a delicate and careful strength that, interestingly enough, mimics the kind of men I have also found myself falling for!

There is something so alluring to me about the juxtaposition of opposites, particularly that which is vulnerable, delicate, or fragile, adjacent something strong. I came across a gorgeous rustic, large, sturdy, dark fruitwood coffee table in an antique store recently. Though most people would see this as a total anomaly in my living room, I haven’t stopped dreaming about how perfect it would look in front of my velvety-soft, pale-green, feminine-looking sofa. I believe this kind of tension, and its potential beauty, exists in all of us, not just in cranes and living rooms.

What determines whether the potential for beauty is realized is how we manage the seeming contrast. Most of us have known individuals who identify completely with their strength, or with a hard exterior, hiding or pushing away any vulnerability deep below the surface. And others who seem unable to step into their own strength or power, presenting themselves as less capable than they in fact are. Of course, we develop these strategies for good reason. We tend to overdevelop those parts of ourselves that seemingly allow us to get our needs met easily and/or seemingly allow us to keep hurt at bay. A certain beauty emerges, however, when we can acknowledge and accept all that we are—vulnerability, power, and everything in between. It’s the beauty of inner radiance that emanates outward. It’s the look of a delicate confidence, of strong vulnerability, of humble pride, and even proud humility. It’s the beauty I see reflected in the lace-like patterns of steel that are capable of lifting tons and of doing so with careful precision and a delicate respect for their power of destruction—a dynamic which also renders them humble. Back to the human world, it’s the beauty of working toward full self-acceptance.

And this brings me to the second reason I love cranes. I love how they represent a work-in-progress. Maybe it is too obvious to need stating: Cranes take their place on a job-site during the construction phase, as something is being built. Or dismantled, though I would say that destruction is also a part of con-struction. Sometimes we need to clear-out the old in order to make room for the new. In either case, cranes represent the meeting-ground of vision and realization, of ideas and materials. I love this meeting-ground much more than the finished project. I love the works-in-progress, and it is this function of steel lace that reflects what may be our primary task as human beings—that of creating ourselves through vision and enactment, through dreams and their realization, through the work of self-acceptance and the joining of strength and vulnerability. In doing so, we build something of lasting value.

The next time you see a crane you may wish to allow the image to linger and ask yourself where you feel strong and where you notice vulnerability. Ask how these two might work together. How strength and appropriate power are actually born from accepting one’s vulnerability. How vulnerability is more easily accepted when we can also step into our power, our creative talents, and our unique place in the universe. Ask which side within you needs increased acceptance. Ask how you envision yourself and your life if that acceptance were to be granted? What do you need to enact in order to build that acceptance? Then harness the powerful image of a crane to help you to get there.