Kill Your Guilt Gnome

“All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

— Gandalf

    I have a confession to make:  I used to feel guilty when the weekend would roll around and I didn’t feel like heading into the shop to work on something.  Maybe I would lounge around on a Saturday and relax, maybe I would run errands or go shopping, or maybe I would just go out and do something with my family.  But still, even when I was fully engaged in those other activities, the Guilt Gnome gnawed at me.  “You’ve spent so much money on tools and supplies and now you’re using your free time to watch Classic College Football on ESPN4 and eat Doritos?  You. Are. A. Fraud.”

    I have another confession to make:  I used to get irritated when the weekend would roll around and I had a project that I was excited about working on, but I was unable to get any time to dedicate to it.  Again, the Guilt Gnome would sink in his claws, “Why does this event have to be on a Saturday?  You work all week and can’t get into the shop and then on the one day you have free, someone else steals it away from you!”

    Well, my friends, I’m happy to report that the dastardly Guilt Gnome no longer has much affect on me.  Oh, sure, he still shows up from time to time and tries to drag me down, but I’ve taken away all of his power.  How did I do this?  Quite simply, actually.  I neutered the Guilt Gnome the very moment that I came to this realization:  I was being a complete jackass.

    Here’s the thing:  life is not a game that can be won.  Life is not about reaching any particular destination.  Life is not about to-do lists, agenda items, optimizing your stock portfolio, or getting those drawers dovetailed by Sunday evening.  The thing that we call “life” is nothing more than a messy conglomeration of all of our experiences, both good and bad.  When I was off doing non-woodworking activities during my free time, I often wasn’t enjoying them.  I was sleepwalking through them while the Guilt Gnome ate away at my mind, making me feel guilty, grumpy, or both.  I was missing out on those experiences.  I was missing out on my life.  In my opinion, that’s the classic definition of a jackass.

    Do you have your own Guilt Gnome riding on your shoulder and whispering in your ear?  Well, have no fear, because there are a few simple steps that you can take to rid yourself of him for good.  One of the core thought processes that gives the Gnome his power is the idea that “I don’t have any time to dedicate to my woodworking.”  I’m happy to report that this is absolutely false… you have more time than you think.  Take one week and tally up all the time you spend mindlessly watching TV, snacking, and surfing the internet.  I bet you’ll be amazed at how much time you actually have available for your hobbies when you reduce the amount of time you spend doing mindless activities.  Take some responsibility for your time!  If woodworking is important to you, you’ll find a way to get shop time; it’s all about priorities, really.  If you complete this self-reflection and find that woodworking is still your lowest priority, then maybe you aren’t as interested in it as you thought.  There’s no shame in that; it might be time to find a new hobby that’s more worthy of your time.  Once you take control (and responsibility) for your time, you’ll take control of your life.

    While taking responsibility for your time is important, it’s equally important to stop making excuses.  You didn’t make any progress on your project today because you chose to spend your time doing something else.  It’s nobody’s fault but yours, so turn that frown upside down and stop being so grumpy.  Oh, you only got an hour in the shop this week?  Who cares?  If you’re a hobbyist, woodworking is only one of many experiences that make up your life, so appreciate them all equally.  You’ll get more time next week.

    In the immortal words of Bobby McFerrin:  don’t worry, be happy.  Go with the flow, manage your time wisely, and kick that Guilt Gnome out of your life.  The world becomes a better place when we all minimize our personal jackassery.

The Theoretical Woodworker

“I may not have gone where I intended to go, but I think I have ended up where I needed to be.”

— Douglas Adams

Years ago, I read the novel Jonathan Strange and Mr. Norrell by Susanna Clarke.  The basic premise of the book is that hundreds of years ago, real magicians roamed the Earth and performed amazing feats.  The magicians of 19th century England, however, were “theoretical magicians.”  They spent all of their time researching the “practical magicians” of the past, writing papers, attending conferences, and endlessly debating small nuanced pieces of the craft.  No actual magic was performed.  This story clawed its way out of my memories recently while I reflected on the internet’s impact on woodworkers today.

Past generations of woodworkers would be astonished at the information and community that we have at our fingertips; the internet is a powerful resource.  There are podcasts and blogs, forums and live chats, conferences and shows.  Once you’ve covered all of those for the day, you can hit Twitter, Facebook, and Google+.  It seems like time to actually go into the shop and build things these days is in short supply.  The internet has made possible the theoretical woodworker:  a hobbyist that, much like the magicians of the 19th century, spends all of his or her time participating in the online woodworking community while tools gather dust in their shop.  Unfortunately, I have some experience with this affliction.

Back in the mid-to-late 2000s, I published a weekly woodworking podcast.  It was a fun and complementary hobby to the one I already enjoyed:  working wood.  As the podcast gained more listeners, however, it started to become more demanding of my time.  Planning topics, outlining shows, recording, editing, writing up show notes, and writing blog posts started eating up all of the free time that I used to spend woodworking.  Near the end, I felt like the only reason I was doing any woodworking at all was to generate content for the podcast.  That was the breaking point, and I decided to end the podcast and focus my attention solely on furniture making.

My four-year-long experiment in self-imposed exile was rewarding, but a little lonely.  My skills improved and I built a lot of stuff, but I missed the regular interaction with other woodworkers.  During that time I learned one very important truth, however:  the work must drive involvement in the online community, not the other way around.   Now, don’t take this the wrong way; the online woodworking community is amazing, and I think all modern woodworkers should participate.  I do not advise becoming a hermit and moving to a cave in the mountains, despite the attractive tax advantages.  We just need to be careful because the internet has a way of surreptitiously stealing time. It’s sneaky like that.  

I don’t think I’m alone in this experience.  Honestly, this phenomenon isn’t even specific to woodworking.  How many times have you fired up your web browser to check the news or the score for a game and then find yourself wondering where the last hour went?  Just remember to keep everything in moderation and never forget this one simple fact: you’re not a woodworker unless you actually work wood.

So how did the novel end?  Well, I don’t want to spoil it for you, but I can tell you this: there were exactly two modern day practical magicians, and the book is named after them.  I can’t remember the names of any of the theoretical types.

Welcome

“Little boys should never be sent to bed. They always wake up a day older.”

— Peter Pan

    What’s your ideal life?  Maybe you've considered this question in depth, or maybe you've never thought of it before.  Either way, close your eyes and try to picture your ideal life.  Visualize your location, the people you’re with on a daily basis, and the activities you engage in regularly.  Are you still a woodworker?  Does woodworking play a big role in your day-to-day life?  Yeah, me, too.  

    Everyone dreams of achieving a sense of contentment and centeredness in their life.  I can’t promise that our ideal lives will ever come to pass exactly how we imagined them, but there are things that we can do to bring reality a few steps closer to imagination.  Small things.  Simple things.

    I won’t write many posts here that give step-by-step instructions for furniture making techniques.  This blog is focused more on the “what” and the “why” rather than the “how-to.”  The Internet is full of sites that give excellent and detailed "how-to" instruction in woodworking, and I honestly don’t have much to add to the information that others are presenting.  On this site, I’m more interested in exploring why we build things, how woodworking impacts our world, and how we can slowly inch our real lives closer to our ideal.  I’ll write about my current projects and the challenges and choices that I’m facing during the construction, but I’ll also step back on a regular basis to explore what the craft means to me and to consider what changes I can make in myself and my work to constantly improve.  

    I’m not the most skilled or knowledgeable woodworker on the Internet, and I don’t purport to have the answers to Life, the Universe, and Everything, but if you’re searching for a more harmonious fusion of life and craft, then I encourage you to follow along and even join in on my journey toward a woodworking life, less ordinary.