Fixing faucets and the fallacy of individualism

Individualism feels so good, yet is often so wrong

As this quote suggests, while individualism is a foil in my book, individualism is not all bad. I tell stories in the book about how individual achievements feel empowering. When you learn a new skill, you feel good about it. Recently I replaced an old faucet in a bathroom. Years ago I had replaced our home’s kitchen faucet, but that was far enough in the past, that I didn’t remember how I did it. As a result, I felt nervous and anxious about replacing the bathroom faucet. Standing in the hardware store staring at all the faucet choices, I thought, “I hate this. Why can’t faucets last forever, working properly all the time?”

I picked out a faucet that seemed to fit with the room and would be easy to work with. Back home, I had an hour before dinner, and I did not want to begin work removing the old faucet and installing the new one, though the new faucet instructions said installation should take only 30 minutes. I plopped the box on the dining room table, and immediately sat on the sofa with a book, avoiding the faucet. In my mind, I vaguely figured I’d get around to installing the faucet later in the week.

Then my wife said, “Dinner will be ready in a hour. Are you going to install the faucet?” When she said that, I knew I needed to get over myself and give it a try, but I did not want to. As you are reading this, please take notice of my wife’s encouragement. I’ll get back to that soon. For now, I return to the story.

I had no good reason to delay, so I grabbed the box off the table, and headed to the bathroom. I had to clear the faucet cabinet of its contents, lay on my back and slide under the sink to get a look at what it would take to remove the fittings. I needed tools, a flashlight, and my glasses. Tools in hand, I wrangled with the old faucet. Mostly made of metal fittings, it was rusted and stuck. I’m sure the rest of my family loved hearing my frustrated moans and groans.

Space under the sink was tight. I could hardly move my wrench. What would professional plumbers do in this situation? They must have special tools I don’t have, especially to deal with rusted nuts and bolts. Slowly, sweating profusely, I disassembled the old faucet. Well beyond 30 minutes passed, and my wife said dinner was ready. I took a break, ate dinner, and afterwards installed the new faucet.

Once I cleaned the bathroom of my mess and put my tools away, I took a look at the shiny faucet. No longer exasperated, I felt great. I did it. The high of individualistic achievement washed over me, and still does a bit as I write this weeks later. I’m writing this in my office, about to head home for lunch. I think I might sneak a peek in the bathroom just to admire the faucet! There is truly something inspiring about completing something new, difficult or frustrating. But I have to admit, I didn’t do it alone.

Remember my wife’s comment? Without her encouragement, I wouldn’t have spent the time that evening replacing the faucet. There’s more. In my childhood, my dad helped me learn to use tools. I could point to others through the years who helped me fix things, teaching me skills or ways to think about repairs. Their example, my dad’s and others, is alone an inspiration.

All of this reminds me that I am not alone. That realization of togetherness is what the quote in the picture above is all about. As much as individualism feels great, it’s not true. We hardly do anything alone. I believe we would do well to think deeply about how we are together.

I encourage you to get my book, Flourishing in Community: A Theology of Togetherness, as I spend time digging deeper about how individualism, relationally and spiritually, can lead us astray, and how we can be together for flourishing. You can get your copy of the book at Wipf and Stock or on Amazon.

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