Yod

You get things done with your hands and your care. Small, exact acts of usefulness are your gift, and the quiet work you do holds a surprising amount together. There is real craft in how you help, and people come to rely on the simple fact that you will actually do the thing.

The doing curdles into fretting. You can lose the whole in the details, polishing one corner while the rest of the room waits, or drive yourself hard over work that was already good enough. The wish to be useful sours into a nagging sense that nothing you do is ever quite finished.