A Deep Breath (#7)

It is noon on a bright, hot Sunday about midway through July. A busy week is unfolding, and I have a blog post to complete. But, my pool, which I have only experienced twice this season--both times last week--beckons. That is why I spent the morning completing chores and minor goals. Mostly laundry and some gardening tasks. And prepping the pool. It is also why I am sitting in my bedroom, on a recliner, trying to knock out a post.

I intend to get into that pool before dinner.

(An explanation for the photo is in the post itself.)

One of the best Christmas gifts I ever received was a Craftsman table saw. Among such equipment, it was on the lower end. However, it lasted about twenty years through sporadic, but intense projects. Some of which were my own, however, a good deal were for my daughters' dance studio. Several years ago, a part of it, called the rip fence, broke. I could have replaced it for under a hundred dollars. Or build my own for a little less. Yet, a voice in my head told me it was time to let go. Finally, I scrapped it, and spent an entire year researching a replacement. 

Two models continually ranked high in my notes, but there was a five hundred dollar difference: one was a contractor level table saw, while the other reflected the needs of a serious hobbyist. Both were workhorses, but the latter offer greater precision and more accessories.

Back in November, my wife received a bonus. It made the decision easier. I went with the higher end machine A month later, Home Depot delivered a large, heavy box to my garage. Tucked away in a corner, my brand new, unassembled table saw, for seven months.

Initially, I had an excuse. According to the reviews, assembling was not easy, with some pitfalls. My garage, in winter, is a cold, numbing place (as countless Nutcracker projects proved). In addition, the space was needed for the cars, especially if it snowed. So, I put it off until spring. 

Spring arrived. And it soon departed. Projects piled up in my daydreams, as they did in real life. There were the cabinets to help organize my garage. The tool carts to keep my other tools out of the way.  And pieces of furniture, like a bench with large drawers for the foyer, or a desk for my office in the basement. Then there were the more urgent projects, like the raised garden beds, and the supports for my tomato and bean plants. Also, the downstairs bathroom needs something to store the towels for the pool. Finally, shelves. For the living room and bedrooms. 

Yet, I procrastinated. It was not the weather. By March, the garage is bearable, and, by April and May, quite pleasant. Especially with the doors open. Nor was it a lack of time. With the end of dance competitions for my eldest, my weekends were free. And I was no longer volunteering at the studio. I just could not commit myself to assembling that table saw.

I used those reviews to justify my hesitation. But in reality, maybe I was afraid. Once that table saw was built, the greatest obstacle to my woodworking projects would be surmounted. I would have to start following through.  Years of bad habits trained my mind to build walls designed to prevent me from taking action.

Even when I desired a particular outcome.  

As I mentioned in a previous post, woodworking is important to me. It is an opportunity to express my creativity, to work with my hands, to experience a skill with a long and rich tradition. Designing wood objects and building them, makes me happy. This past Thursday, after seven months of avoiding it, I sat down in the garage, opened up that large, heavy cardboard box, emptied its contents on to the concreate floor, and began to assembly my new table saw. 

About two-and-a-half hours later, it was built. There were some interruptions: two hiccups involving poor instructions (and one involving impatience on my part). Yet, I was done.

Sigh. Except, I refused to turn it on and test it. All I had to do was plug it in and press a button. And I would know if I had truly succeeded. But I was afraid. Failure was a possibility. Maybe I had not followed the instructions correctly? Perhaps a part arrived defective? Then what? I would have to troubleshoot. Look through internet posts. Possibly call costumer support.  Costing time and energy. A recipe for frustration. A victory for procrastination (it warned me about starting things and how things end in failure).

Two quick steps, and I would know for sure. Yet, in the end, I chose ignorance. It sounded like a good option. After all, it is blissful.

The good news? My hesitation lasted only the night. By the next day, while water my tomato plants, I realized I needed to finish my garden tasks. That included building a support structure for my plants.

So, I entered my garage, ran the power cord to the outlet, put on my ear protection, and turned on the table saw.

It worked! The blade started turning. I started smiling.

Then I immediately turned it off. 

I would like to say I was testing the switch: power tools should shut down quickly. But that fear of failure just would not let go; therefore, I interrupted my moment of joy.

My reluctance would not last. Those tomatoes demanded my assistance. My woodworking projects required my commitment. I needed this win. Grabbing a piece of wood, I stepped back up to that table saw. After turning it on and letting the blade reach full speed, I began pushing the wood through it. Within a few seconds, the process was finished. 

I completed my first cut!

For several hours I labored, sweating profusely. My face turned red. My clothes clung to me, as did the dust from the all the woodworking. Muscles and bones strained--they would ache afterwards. Several times, my throat cried out for water.

Then it was all over. I had built a structure for my tomato plants. It is ugly, not the least bit squared, and will last a single season. I could have done better.

But, in that moment, striving for perfection, would have prevented me from finishing. 

In the end, a messy win, is still a win.