On Tools and the Currents They Lead Us To

When I was 14 years old, I withdrew every dollar from my small savings account to buy the newly released -original- iPhone. In my school of around 1,500 middle-class students, no one I knew owned one yet, and I had convinced myself that if I acquired one before everyone else, that would make me special, or unique, or worthy in some way that I wasn't already.

I believe the iPhone was the first "tool" I purchased whose purpose, while having some utility, was mostly about something else. It served its purpose for a time (until right after Christmas break), then became outdated, and I was forced back to the metaphorical (and literal) marketplace to buy something else to help bridge the divide between how I perceived myself and how I wanted wanted to be perceived. 

I am only now able to see that this purchase was a lot like stepping into a river for the first time and getting swept away in its current. Currents can be strong, and if taken along mindlessly, it’s quite easy to spend a lifetime without a question as to where you’re going. 

For me, the way I came to be stuck in the current was because, in some ways, the tool “worked”. I was given a bit more attention, I felt at the forefront of something, and in the jungle that is high school, I felt safe for a moment. All I was trying to do, in the end, was “survive”, and I had a tool which seemed to work. Naturally, when this tool became outdated, I thoughtlessly sought other tools.

In these moments where it feels like “survival” is at stake (used very flippantly here), things are sticky. Actions with “good” and “bad” outcomes alike are fully absorbed and remembered, and can easily become a subconscious reflex. Reflexes developed during these trying early years can easily continue to persist well into adulthood, even when the “threats” have largely subsided, and if left unchecked, can be a distraction from a true, lived experience.

Anyway, my current was headed in the direction of relevancy, defined by what I thought the community would appreciate, with “tools” being material and new, but also time, spent on education, hobbies, social media, etc. But it is here that I must mention the oh-so-important “branch”, which extends into the river, and occasionally snags you. When it does, you’re paused for a moment, and can feel how strong the current is. You also realize, for the first time, that there is an option to get out of the water, if you so choose. 

Probably quite obvious given the location of this written reflection, I got snagged in my senior year of college, when I started working as a apprentice/laborer/sponge in a wood shop. This was a small outfit, in the midst of transitioning from a general wood shop to a timber frame shop. It was an absolute luxury - I’ll go so far to say a blessing - that this shop was small. There was no CNC machine cutting the joinery, no $10,000 fancy Mafell tools, and no design software. The fanciest tool we owned was a $1,500 Makita chain mortiser, and it only ran for about 20 minutes a day. All of the cuts were made with hand saws, all of the joinery finished with chisel and mallet. Because of this, our style was more or less limited to traditional timber framing (given the tools). Save the chain mortiser, we were doing things the same way it had been done for centuries - and despite the antiquity of this idea, we kept getting jobs. 

Instead of prying for attention with newness or ostentation, I found this ideology to be focused on care, tradition, and keeping true to what others had spent centuries “proving”. With this, newness might have actually been a weakness. Hand tools take time to learn how to use efficiently, but have extremely low overhead. They also somewhat limit style to traditional framing, which fortunately, has changed very little in the past couple hundred years - it was “proven”, in joinery, design, timber sizes and materials. All you had to do was be disciplined and humble enough to try not to reinvent the wheel too much. So, although small, we became somewhat specialized. And through practice, we became efficient, and thus inexpensive, compared to competitors. 

I’m not sure if it was the fact that this new understanding - that things traditional, antique, and rather quiet, can be “good” - was nearly the opposite of what had been whispered in my ear since 14, but I was snagged, and snagged good, and since, this idea continues to shape how I think about most things. 

I believe most things, if you’re willing to look hard enough, or long enough, and let go of the striving, are “proven”. Sometimes, it seems easier, or more fun, or more profitable, to be at the forefront of “new” discovery. But if this becomes the current, acting as the consistent propulsion of everyday life, so much beauty and wisdom from the past, and the present, can be overlooked, and so much time, perhaps a lifetime, could be spent trying to figure something out to which there already exists an answer.

I’m grateful for this work, and those that were patient and gracious with me while I learned, and continue to learn, about this craft and its hidden lessons. I hope I can continue to fight the urge to reinvent, and abide by what is “proven”, in this corner of life and others. 

-Landon