I can’t draw, can’t paint, and good heavens, can’t sculpt. So in an effort to do something creative, I’ve recently taken to woodturning.  There’s something magical to me about taking a tool to a square block of wood and watching a bowl emerge.  The fresh smell of the green wood, the gentle spray of the released moisture, and the soft hum of the shavings peeling from the log create a sensory experience that is both satisfying and, for me, profoundly soothing.  Except when it isn’t.  Because, as in any craft, woodturning is really really hard to do and beginners must endure some pretty humbling attempts.  But in the process of learning I’ve discovered a metaphor that I’m finding useful to apply as a life lesson.  I share it with you today as I prepare for my next class in turning and changing.

Skilled woodturners can use the edge of their tool with such skill, they create deep and efficient cuts with little effort.  In fact, the learning process of turning is how to find the right angle that allows the sharpened edge to ride the grain of the wood, maximizing the cut with precision and minimal resistance.  You hold the tool as the lathe begins to turn and feel for the angle, much like I imagine a surfer does when catching a wave.  Find that right connection, and like magic, the blade rides along the wood creating a long tail of shavings with an almost effortless pressure on the part of the turner.  It takes a lot of patience to feel for that right angle, especially as a beginner.  Your instinct is to push when you are eager to make the cut.  But applying pressure, especially when the angle is wrong, only causes you to catch the blade on the wood, creating a loud cracking sound and a big divot in your piece.  Not only does it feel awful, as the tool kicks back at you, sound horrible, with an awful jolting noise, but a “catch”, as it is called, tends to make everyone in the shop turn and look at you!  

It makes sense that the first step in making an effective cut, then, is to take a deep breath, exhale, and relax your body.  (Thanks Jerry Kermode, my first teacher).  It feels counterintuitive, as your instinct is to want to lean in with pressure.  But the more anxious you are, the more rigid your body, the more you are likely to force a cut and catch the edge on your piece, leading to potential disaster.  And this feels like a familiar pattern to me, in many areas of life.  When I want something to happen, I push at it.  The more anxious I am about it, the harder I press.  Even when I can feel the approach is wrong, I get panicky and dig in.  But sometimes, trying harder is not the right answer.  Sometimes it’s best to take a step back, breathe, and look for a better angle.

The best example for me is in relationships.  When I feel misunderstood, I can be reactive.  I get activated and push back, sometimes causing the other person to become defensive.  Then in response to their defensiveness, I push harder and in essence double down. Rather than bringing me closer to the other person, in reality my feeling of being misunderstood only grows. Except now I feel misunderstood and self righteous.  None of it helps me get to my ultimate goal of feeling more connected to the person I care about.

I do believe these are the times when taking a deep breath is probably what is most needed.  When we find ourselves tense and activated, we become reactive rather than thoughtful.  We miss opportunities to go with the flow of a situation and risk having it turn out in ways that are actually not what we want or intend.  But it takes great awareness to fight the instinct to push hard on something we care about and discipline to pull back from it.  But a wise life craftsman has the experience to know that backing off and waiting for the right approach is most often far more effective.  And it also lowers our risk of “catching” and having everyone turn as they hear our mistake!  (Yes, that was me cursing at my laptop at the coffee shop. Darn thing never listens.).