Picks
I was 13 years old when I got my first lock pick set. The power to open any locked door was one I wanted to possess. I practiced with them a lot, but I don’t think I picked an intentionally locked door until I was an adult.
Growing up in the magic store was fun, but weird. I wasn’t aware of just how weird, but now it seems obvious. Magic has many tentacles, like lock picking. It introduced me to psychology, theater, music, juggling, chemistry, carpentry, ventriloquism, shadowgraphy (shadow puppets), chapeaugraphy (folding hats out of felt), and many other arts and sciences.
With four kids within 5 years of each other, the pantry was our biggest expense. We locked it to protect a week’s worth of groceries from vanishing in a day. The kids got fantastic at finding the key, and we kept moving the hiding place. Until we hid the key so well we couldn’t find it.
We’d tried so hard to keep others out, we locked ourselves out. I was debating options for removing the doorknob. That seemed really destructive. A locksmith felt like a very expensive alternative. Luckily, I remembered my old lock pick set. It took a few minutes of tinkering and a YouTube video to refresh my ability to unlock the door.
My initial solutions ranged from expensive to expensive and destructive. Over the years, asking the right people the right questions has given me solutions for problems I haven’t even faced yet. It’s a bag full of tools, waiting for the right moment. Curiosity has literally unlocked doors for me.
What doors are waiting for me to use the right tool to unlock them? Are there doors I can open for others? What tools should I be adding to my bag right now?
Be curious, be kind, be whole, do good things.
Last year I got a call from a friend saying she locked herself out of her room. Remembering TV shows where people would just take a card or butter knife and pop them open with ease I felt confident and told her I’d be right there. I spent over an hour sweating and trying my hardest to get it open to no avail. Practically breaking the door jam, I gave up. Then she called a locksmith and just before he gave us a call back saying he was on his way I went down to her garage and rumbled through her toolbox and found a perfect putty knife. It took me about 10 seconds and it popped right open. I learned that if I don’t succeed at something like I thought I should be able to take a step back and figure out what the problem is. (I needed something harder)
If you haven't read it already, I think you'd like this book:
Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!
by Richard Feynman