Truth Embodied

I think any woodworker worth their salt is chasing truth. Both in their work and in themselves.

Think about how passionately we all pursue things like flat, straight, and square. Or, consider how we meticulously brood over the surface of a finish, fussing over the tiniest of imperfections.

All forms of truth.

As thrilling as it is to achieve truth in our work, the woodworker, or anyone who makes anything sees deeper still. In some strange way, as we have cut, planed, chiseled, shaped, and sanded our stock into shape, it has done the same to us - trading its former life for our anger, frustration, and impatience.

The remarkable majority of us use making as an outlet. The sheer amount of “sinners” I have spoken with, who rend themselves open to spill their proverbial guts out onto their workpiece is staggering to say the least. However, when I see other makers, sitting at their bench with their struggles, I am confident that the medium on which they work will speak gently to their weary souls.

Like anything else, when starting the creative venture, we bring our inadequacies and anxieties to the table. And, as beginners, it’s shows in our work. We have to start somewhere, and unless you’re a prodigy, we usually start with sucking.

Remember that Miyamoto Musashi said, in the book of five rings, “It will be difficult at first, but everything is difficult at first.”

This is a nice way of telling us the familiar military mantra: Embrace the suck!

As time goes on, and we continue on the Way, we learn about geometric truth, Platonic solids, the sacredness of geometry, and begin to see cycles and patterns that translate from the bench to our every day lives.

Then, one day we find that over the years, all of that work we’ve poured out onto the bench was also working on us. We see it by the way our lives have changed, and (especially hand tool woodworkers) have conformed our physical frame until the truth is embodied.