counting cracks

today i asked my class to tell me about their best and worst jobs and one woman talked about counting cracks. she was hired to do pavement inspections and was directed to walk miles of pavement and count the cracks and to record their location so someone else could come by and fix them. it was hot and monotonous and she hated the vinyl vest they made her wear and that was her worst job.

and i thought "what a metaphor". i bet i have spent time counting cracks. i can recall times when i have been hot and bored and uncomfortable when i kept my head down and instead of looking at the canvas of the pavement in front or ahead of me, i counted the cracks. there's one. there's another one. look at them all. so much is broken. so much is wrong. and in that space all i saw were the cracks and more cracks.

not that counting cracks is a bad thing in itself - on the contrary, it can be useful. especially if it leads to finding out why the crack grew up in the first place.

cracks in the pavement often have to do with trees. they happen because there is a fundamental foundational problem in the way the tree was planted in the first place. when the tree came from the nursery, the roots were girded -- wrapped up tight in a big ball of burlap, and no one took the time to spread them out when the tree was plunked in the earth. then a guy came by and watered it every day so it grew big and strong but the roots could only grow one way. they swelled and bulged and eventually poked up cracks in the sidewalk.

it's easy, so easy to look at the cracks we see along the way and tell ourselves to smash that pavement and put down fresh cement - raise it up, step over it. but oh, more helpful to ask, why is that crack there?

cracks in the pavement, cracks in love, cracks in life. walk slowly, notice and count them from time to time. appreciate the intent but also the error for why they are there.

spread the roots, water daily, and start again.