Outside of a dog, a book is man's best friend, inside of a dog, it's too dark to read.
I think woodworkers take the cake as far as dog obsession (sorry Megan). In my case at least, I'm comfortable admitting that making a life in woodworking is basically an attempt to recreate and extend my favorite childhood moments. Dogs and sticks...what more do I have to say...Rosebud?
I'll cut right to the chase with what I've learned, and believe it or not, relate it back to woodworking and chairmaking. Anyone with expertise or years of experience knows how tough it can be to explain the process to a newcomer. How can they not understand that their tools are dull or their technique is wrong, it's so obvious?! This brings me to my second quote
Patience is a mild form of despair, disguised as a virtue
When I finally taught Georgie that jumping in the truck could be fun (there's safety and treats in there), I thought that I'd opened up a whole new world of adventure, we can go anywhere now!
But then how do I get her out?
If my other dog Kobe is there, she follows him out, but otherwise, no deal. So my first inclination was to grab the dog, put her on the ground, give her a treat and then expect that now she knows that it's all good. I did this a couple of times, but the fear instilled by my reaching for her was worse than any promise of a treat. To her, the truck ride is still novel, and that door opens to a great swirling abyss. Reaching in to grab her is akin to the disembodied arm reaching out of the darkness!
Thinking from her perspective is one of the most challenging mental games that I've come across, there is so much that we take for granted. So here's what I did. We went to the truck in the driveway, I opened the door and she hopped in happily. Then I held a treat so that she'd have to stick her head out just a bit to get it. Then she retreated. The next one was a little further out and finally, she hopped down to get one on the ground, this is the driveway that she knows after all. Multiple treats and then a well earned retreat to the truck.
Then we repeated the process about 4 times until she hopped down willingly. Throughout the day, I walked her to the truck about 3 more times to repeat this process. At the end of the day, I leashed her up, drove her to the park, crouched next to the car and called her out, and she hopped down and off we went. Not all our work is this fast. New people and experiences are still a challenge.
I think that extending this kind of patience with students, or even better, ourselves, while learning is essential. I recall wanting to learn woodworking, but I had such trouble letting myself take a little at a time, I wanted to master is all, get to that end ability. But like it or not, I think we all learn more like Georgie. Finding out what parts you are comfortable with and stepping into risk with some safety is essential.
Students often remark that I am very effusive in my support during class. It isn't false praise, what I see is a bunch of adults, experts in things that I probably know nothing about, putting themselves out there and trusting me to guide them through uncharted territory. It's a leap of faith and act of bravery that I've rarely risked.
Moral of the story, besides get a dog? Give yourself a break, take a moment to think of your goals as well as your achievements and remember, even though the piece that you are working on will be finished, your process marches on. What kicks your butt today, you will soon take for granted.