The Difficulty of Attention to Detail

It all adds up when you want to be the best, and it's hard.

Illustration by Lorraine Sawicki

The other morning my family went into a local bakery renowned for their delicious pastries. While the pastries were fantastic—glistening fruit on tarts; flaky croissants and a crystal-clear window—there were other little things about the café that turned me off.

-The dust on the chandelier.

-The 2/3 faded carnation on the table, so old that the anthers on the flower were an inch above the papery, browning petals.

- The table was granite but the end facing the door was so chipped an ragged I imagined cutting myself if I accidentally brushed against it.

Was I the only one that cared, or even noticed? Certainly there are details that all of us notice about other people, software, art, homes, the list could go on and on.

The details make the whole feel cohesive and finished. But I am as guilty as anyone regarding not paying attention to details, even when it’s important.

When we recently put our home up for sale, we cut corners. We figured that similar to the ways things worked when we bought our house, there would be things that need to get ripped out, painted and improved. But when the market dictates a polished product is necessary, you find out quickly what people are and aren’t willing to pay.

I recently had a working session with two people in my “builder’s network”. One of them chatted with my about my real estate experience, and he compared them to software bugs. “You can’t have bugs. People hate them.” I don’t know why that analogy worked so well for me, but it was a lightbulb moment. It's easy to see the imperfections in others, and hard to correct and polish the details on something you’re working on yourself. We wound up renting out our home, but only after I went through every detail and had everything fixed.

Going forward, I’m going to work more on viewing my own work through a lens not of perfection, but of what is a good or bad experience.