Marc Estes

Once again, I wanted to give you a cool cut from my new book coming out soon, “What Now.” There is a cool section of my new book where I am addressing the area of personal make up. I am wanting the reader to understand that every person is made differently on purpose, and that we should be excited about how we are made and not disappointed. The following section has been edited down greatly, but I thought you might want to read the ‘raw’ version, straight from the horses mouth. My editor’s Cara and Tia, are two of the greatest and coolest editors on the planet, and did a great job. I just thought you might enjoy Marc’s long-winded approach to the story. Enjoy:

 

Your personal makeup influences everything you do! The way you think is filtered through your personal makeup. The decisions you make, the type of friends you hang out with, the mate you are attracted to, the type of career and position you pursue, all pass through the filter of your personal makeup.

 

The fact is we are all very different and unique in our own way, but our uniqueness is always to be appreciated and honored. Some people tend to be more task-focused, while others lean toward being people-focused. But either way, people have the same capacity to achieve greatness. Many are extroverts, many others are introverts. Male or female, young or old, short or tall—the dynamics of our personal makeup is unique to each of us. And those dynamics directly affect your perspective in life and your modus operandi.

Take my wife and me, for example. Recently, we’ve been remodeling our master bathroom and bedroom, and our individual perspectives have everything to do with how we’ve approached, carried out and accomplished our goal.
Let’s talk about my perspective first (the very fact that I wanted to start with my perspective first should speak volumes about my personal makeup):

 

Projects like this are great, but have the potential of turning into a real quagmire. You have to work within some guidelines (read: budget); you have to always start with the numbers! Any logical individual knows the place to begin is in front of a computer screen with a detailed spreadsheet vociferously defining every detailed expenditure and an established price point for each item (never to be exceeded, of course) right down to the number of tiles needed and the annual cost of using particular light fixtures.
 

Once you’ve built a colored-coded spreadsheet that’s twelve feet high and thirty feet wide rationalizing everything from US granite tile Gross Domestic Product to “expense to use” ratios for this toilet paper dispenser versus that toilet paper dispenser and have established the projected costs of every nail, roll of tape and tube of caulking, you must consider all other priorities—existing debt, retirement issues, other household needs, the children and their future—and plan how you will fund this vast, financially-stretching undertaking (Why can’t we just leave the walls white?).

 

It’s also important to construct a timeline. You should determine the best day to begin based upon preexisting schedules and availability; compartmentalize each phase of the operation down to the minute, researching how long it takes ordered materials to arrive, mortar to set-up and paint to dry; who will be responsible for each phase of the project and lofty goals for each; how this will affect your existing lifestyle and living arrangements and so on. Then and only then, can you begin to discuss paint colors and tile selections…and not a moment sooner. Schedule a 6 AM meeting with your wife to formally review this simple, economic, reasonsable—indeed God-breathed—remodeling strategy.

 

Now for my wife’s perspective (my interpretation, of course):

 

It’s all about the color! It goes without mentioning that you should never put this much time and effort into something you’re not delighted with (wait, I’m lost already!). From Susan’s perspective, you start by getting up Saturday morning at the crack of nine. You go get the newspaper, start a pot of fresh-ground coffee (with cream and raw sugar, lovingly served by your husband, please) and sit down for the next ninety minutes, slowly waking up. The much anticipated phone calls from the girls (talking nineteen to the dozen about your new remodel) pairs perfectly with your coffee and gives you an opportunity to download all the vivid color palettes dancing around like sugarplums in your mind (hmm, sugarplum—now there’s one color you hadn’t considered yet). You share about the day ahead: a consecutive string of exaggerated visits to paint stores, furniture showrooms and flooring centers with your accommodating husband by your side who, by the way, has forgotten the spreadsheet at home and remembered to bring the credit card. You look forward to a blissful day of holding hands, sharing, smiling, bonding closely—perhaps skipping—as you partner together in creating this tranquil new refuge that promises many years of serenity and peace. Then you leave the driveway.

 

Now, let’s not get too far ahead of ourselves; we have to stop at Starbucks. How, after all, can you see colors clearly without a “venti, non-fat vanilla, extra hot, no foam…latte,” which really only serves as a chaser for your first cup of coffee you drank at home, and which you can’t realistically finish? You’re certain to savor this four-dollar cup of coffee at the table inside so you might experience the ambiance, discuss the latest home makeover TV show episode and begin to replenish the emotional juices necessary to envision the spread. The sharing, smiling and bonding are well under way, but you’d better use the restroom (for a third time), before heading off to that first stop. Wait, it’s almost lunch time!

 

Long story short: a taco salad begets a phone call with your two married daughters, which begets an invitation for them to join you for lunch, which begets a family bonding moment (since you haven’t seen them since last night). Your quick lunch turns into a full-fledged family meal, draining the monthly entertainment budget in one fell swoop but nobody cares; we’re bonding. Hug the girls, kiss the grandkids and we’re off to our first stop. It’s 2 PM.

 

Ah, Home Depot… the promised land. Is it easier (or more satisfying) to gather seven hundred and fifty paint chips one at a time or just grab one of each and sort it out later? Who cares… you’ve got your hand-holding, sharing, smiling and bonding husband there, off whom you can bounce ideas ALL DAY LONG! Oh, and “since we’re already here” you’d better take a look at towel racks, toilets, tile and trim. Off to twelve more showrooms…

 

Now when you get home, be sure to check the mail because much to your surprise (and that of your husband… hmph!), the new Pottery Barn catalog just came out. And not a moment too soon! It’s a good thing this timeless work of literature arrived so your husband and you can make spontaneous choices of duvet covers, pillows and shams. After all, how can you paint the room and keep the old, perfectly good bedding that happened to be purchased from last year’s catalog? How passé!
 

Once each catalog selection has been cut out and pinned to the wall, paint chips and tiles strewn about the floor, you can stand back and marvel at the day’s accomplishments. Then and only then, can you “budget” the project, scribbling a ballpark estimate on the back of a paint swatch and figuring you can probably have it all done by Thanksgiving. It’s 11 PM (your husband’s bedtime was 10 o’clock), which leaves three hours to make your first round of selections.

 

You get my point. We’re different!