A Bob the Builder Approach (Spoiler: this isn’t a construction tutorial.)
Have you ever watched Bob the Builder? If not, let me save you the trouble. Every episode goes like this: there’s a problem, Bob makes a plan, and ten minutes later, bam! a shiny new park, house, or structurally questionable community project is miraculously complete. It’s oddly satisfying. Bob, who seems to have the coordination of a sock puppet and the building permits of a pirate ship, somehow manages to solve everything with a smile and a toolbox.
Now, fast forward to real life. A month ago, someone I know went through a painful breakup. Their engagement ended, and understandably, they were emotionally wrecked. So naturally, they did what anyone heartbroken and avoiding their feelings might do… they rented an excavator and started digging a giant hole in the backyard of their townhouse. Not journaling. Not therapy. Not even binge-watching a show to numb the pain. No, they went straight for the excavator.
The goal? A fire pit. You know, one of those cozy, Pinterest-worthy backyard hangouts. Except instead of starting with a plan, they went full demolition mode. A designated space for burning things. If that’s not a metaphor, I don’t know what is.
There were no permits. No measurements. No blueprint. Just pain, a vague vision, and a very large hole. They kept digging until their entire backyard was consumed, both literally and emotionally. At some point, they looked around and realized not only had they destroyed their landscaping, but they still had no idea how to build anything. Somewhere in the middle of that chaos, they had a realization: this wasn’t about creating a beautiful fire pit. It was about trying to escape the emotional mess inside by creating a physical mess outside. A distraction. A project. Anything to avoid sitting with the hard stuff.
Sound familiar?
Unfortunately, by the time the damage was done, it was too late. Not even Bob could fix that.
The takeaway? You can’t excavator your way out of emotional pain. You can’t dig a hole deep enough to avoid heartbreak. And trying to “build” your way past grief, without a plan, without reflection, only leaves you with more wreckage to clean up. Emotional pain doesn’t disappear just because you’ve got a shovel in your hand and a Pinterest board in your head.
So the next time life throws you a wrecking ball, don’t grab a shovel and pretend you’re Bob. Sit with the emotion. Process it. Talk to someone. Then, when you’re ready, with a real plan, build something meaningful.
Feel your feelings. Sit with the discomfort. Let things burn if they must, but emotionally, not in a backyard pit you can’t build or afford to fix. When the time is right, build something real, with intention, self-respect, and, ideally, a permit.
You can’t avoid pain by digging deeper into distraction, feel it, heal it, and then make it possible.