Just Seen

I wanted to see his new machine.

I'm not a machine guy. I'm not very mechanically inclined. I never even learned, I’m about to reveal a deep, dark, painful secret here….how to drive a standard.

The first time I ever used an excavator, I rented one, assuming they would give me a demonstration and make sure I knew how to use it properly before they let me leave. I was secretly hoping they would just come to the job with me and be the operator. But before I knew it, the trailer and the machine were hooked up to my very undersized truck, and down the road I went.

When I got to the job site on that first day, within three minutes of unloading the excavator off the trailer—which was terrifying—I swung the bucket straight into the client's front door.

I've gotten better since then. Begrudgingly. More out of necessity than getting my kicks. Running an excavator has become an important part of my job, but I'll never be the guy who gets excited about horsepower or hydraulic flow rates.

So when a friend and fellow stoneworker got a new machine, I wasn’t there to geek out over it.

I came to be a witness.

It’s his biggest job since starting his business. It’s his first major equipment purchase. A leap. A risk. The kind of thing that keeps you up at night with thoughts alternating between wondering if you’ve just made a huge mistake or a huge investment in your future.

He was already operating the machine like he’d been using it for years. The wall, unsurprisingly, was looking beautiful and thoughtfully considered.

He looked like he was in his element. That’s what I came to see.

Sometimes, just being seen is all the support you need.