My rookie era: After my panic attacks, woodworking became the one good thing I could count on

"Woodworking emerged in my mind as a place I might get some reprieve from the new psychological maze I was stumbling through after a traumatic event changed how I experienced the world. The call of the timber was undeniable. I landed on the Victorian Woodworkers Association in North Melbourne for its price, emphasis on craft and the pedigree of its tutors."

"When I entered the basement workshop for my first class I was expecting monastic peace, slow craft, soft timber grain and the wisdom of ancients. Instead, a multi-year hazing ritual awaited my frayed nerves: limb-severing machinery, loud noises, amateur's embarrassment, compromises and mistakes."

"My new master, Isabel Avendano-Hazbun, a hilarious sculptor and textile artist, was willing to show me but convinced me otherwise—people practise dovetailing for 20 years, she cautioned, jokingly, and mine was not going to look like that. I had to set my aspirations aside—power tools were the only way to go."

Following a traumatic event and initial panic attack in early 2022, the author sought solace in woodworking at the Victorian Woodworkers Association. Expecting meditative craft work, they instead encountered demanding machinery, loud noises, and humbling mistakes. Under tutor Isabel Avendano-Hazbun's guidance, the author abandoned romantic notions of hand-crafted dovetailing for practical power tools. Over three years, completing two of three record cabinets, the author learned that woodworking's therapeutic value came not from serene perfection but from embracing the messy, dangerous, and humbling reality of the craft. Expert oversight and willingness to compromise proved essential to both safety and psychological healing.

Read at www.theguardian.com