Your house is made of wood
Pollution, or art? Maybe both. (Image by D Cullinane)
The nature of going viral is that, once your piece reaches a certain level of attention, you start to attract an audience for whom it was not originally intended.
Subtleties and nuances are ignored, and you receive comments that are coming from a place of ignorance.
The savvy content creator will use this to their advantage, which is what Jacob Witzling did in response to someone who was upset about the use of a giant chunk of fallen timber to make a bathtub.
In his elegant rejoinder, he reminds the would-be preservationists in his comment section that their own homes are likely made of wood, and wood comes from trees.
Life is full of these moments of selective concern and compromise. I save spiders from drowning in my shower, yet I eat meat. I avoid fast fashion, yet my home is undoubtedly full of items made by overworked people in lightly regulated overseas factories. I keep the heat in my home as low as I can but travel by jet several times a year.
We must each figure out how to navigate this minefield of potential harm in our own way. We can look to others for what we should do, but in the end we will have to make our own choices based on our own values. There are too many variables to address them all.
That’s why, overwhelmed by the possibilities, some of us create rules for ourselves that do little other than make life more inconvenient or unpleasant.
For example, I spent my senior year of college letting my hair air dry in order to save energy and improve the health of my hair. All I got was a head full of frizz.
And a friend of mine holds herself back from sharing her ideas online because she doesn’t want to “pollute the Internet” with writing that isn’t very good.
Well, just as countless homes are made of trees, the Internet is already polluted. Holding back is a courtesy that will only be ignored, not appreciated.
Such a decision isn’t actually neutral. If builders choose not to make the homes and furniture they would otherwise make, it impacts those who would have benefited from those things. And now these builders have to find new livelihoods with their own potential issues.
And my friend who doesn’t want to pollute the Internet is missing out on opportunities to make friends, win clients, and express herself. Meanwhile, I would argue that if she’s not there, the Internet is the poorer for it.
Of course, that’s difficult to measure. Most people won’t notice, because the Internet is vast. And that’s why the concern over creating mediocre content has much more to do with my friend than with anyone who would actually see her work.
When we post, we might have the illusion that we’re onstage, on display. However, just like in middle school, most people are just not paying much attention — even the ones who take the time to make dismissive comments. If people don’t want what we have to offer, they can easily scroll on past. They might not even notice us.
Hiding in plain sight, we are free to develop our craft out in the open, which allows us connect with like-minded people and get meaningful feedback along the way. This accelerates the process compared to just woodshedding in private.
It’s romantic to think about having a light touch upon the earth — to eat only the fruits that have fallen to the ground, live in a cave (which is not made of trees), and keep your mouth shut so you never risk an argument with another human being.
However, that reckoning accounts only for what you take, not what you could contribute. You could not only consume, but create. Your presence is not a burden to the world, but a gift. Share it freely.
