My grandpa gave me a beautiful old antique mantle clock twelve years ago. It’s made of dark wood, has a simple elegant curve to it, and has been a prominent fixture in various living rooms I’ve inhabited over the last decade. When I’ve taken care of it, wound it properly, and kept it on a level surface, it has run beautifully. But there have also been times (usually post-move) when it has been put aside or overlooked, so it sat unused, in a trunk or on a shelf, waiting for a time when it could function again.
Over the past two and a half years since the move into my current house, the clock has sat up on a high shelf in the living room, unwound, out of the way, not ticking, perching there solemnly like a decorative paper weight. I don’t know why I didn’t start it up again- maybe I tried at one point and it wouldn’t stay running- so I gave up and the clock remained stolid in its dysfunction. And eventually I stopped paying attention to it. I would catch a glimpse of it in passing, but I didn’t really see it. I didn’t fully appreciate its beauty or value, and I didn’t take the time to give it the little bit of care it needed to fire up again and work like it should.
This past weekend, something struck me as I was walking up the stairs and glanced over at the clock resting on a shelf, perpetually still, exhibiting zero signs of life. I actually paused mid-step as I recalled its beauty and age, its sentimental value, and how much I had enjoyed hearing it chime happily in years past. So I took it down, brushed the dust off its surfaces, and placed it squarely in the center of the mantel. Then I spent a good hour trying to get it to run… I put little pads under its feet in various positions (and used my level to make sure it was even); I turned the key, finding the clock to apparently be fully wound; I patiently moved the minute hand a half hour at a time, giving it a second to chime like my parents had shown me how to do with our clocks when I was younger; and finally I gently swung the pendulum, waiting a minute or two to see if it would keep ticking… But it didn’t. No matter what I tried, the clock wouldn’t stay running more than a couple of minutes. I resigned myself to the fact that I would need to take it to a repair shop and have them fix it, so I left it alone again, sitting quietly on the mantel, as still as it had been for the past few years.
But this morning, for whatever reason, I felt compelled to keep trying. With a new well of determination I picked up the key thinking maybe I could UN-wind it if I just rotated the key the opposite direction (which is not at all how clocks work)… and lo’ and behold the key turned like it should, giving the clock new life… and I realized I had been doing it wrong all along- I had apparently forgotten how to wind it the right way over the past few years. Mental head slap. It was as basic as taking an extra minute to figure it out, finding the determination not to give up on it, and appreciating the value it held if I could just get it to work.
Like that beautiful old clock, we each have the ability within us to contribute something great- something valuable and precious- to our relationships with others, if we would just take time to figure out the right steps to get the dang thing to run. You can’t just put relationships up on a shelf and leave them alone. If we do, they stop working and become stagnant, lifeless shells of what they could be.
As I’m typing this, the clock is chiming six o’clock- it’s been running steadily for the last 9 hours and 50 minutes since I figured out what I was doing wrong. Yes, I know I’m going to have to wind it again once it slows down and stops, but that’s to be expected- I’m not naive enough to think it’ll run forever on its own. Over the past few years I’ve made plenty of mistakes in relationships… and recently again I’ve taken a closer look at the things I’ve done wrong- and the things I’ve learned in the process. I’ve found new determination, and realized the true beauty in not giving up…The beauty in giving attention and care to relationships so they thrive. I’ve realized that sometimes I have to try things a different way because it just might work this time. And I’ve discovered something: maybe nothing’s broken after all…maybe I just wasn’t doing it right.
Tick tock.
