Craftsmanship and Consistency

It’s book release day! I’m so excited to share The Hellebore Society with you all and also, to be honest, pretty nervous. It’s a vulnerable thing to put something you made out into the world, isn’t it? Forrest and I have talking about craftsmanship a lot lately. About how strange it is that many of our favorite people in the world just happen to have hobbies that require that combination of skill, artistry, and perseverance. Of course, I doubt they “just happen” to do anything. I think something changes within us when we commit ourselves, however lightly, to the practice of consistent small improvements over time.

I don’t want to wax too poetically about it, but there is a beautiful cycle of creating a concept, then a plan, which moves into production, and then to revision or alterations, and then to an end product, which no craftsperson can help but analyze for tips and tricks for the next time around. That cycle breeds humility and patience, all the more so if it is done for no other reason that love of the craft itself.

Let me be clear, writing books isn’t the quiet place where I learn most of these lessons. Gardening is. People comment positively about our gardens, but we would do it even if no one ever saw them. In fact, I might like it better if they were truly secret, since I would feel more comfortable during the ugly winter months when it really is best to leave last year’s detritus on the ground to rot. I take the lessons I learn there and use them in my books.

Things like working hard and trusting that the work will create its own magic. Or realizing that each season has its own jobs - trying to edit while you’re brainstorming is just as foolish as trying to prune while you’re planting. Or learning that sometimes things don’t work the way I wanted them to, but if I open my eyes, there’re usually something that’s growing more abundantly than I could have imagined.

I’ve watched the woodworkers and painters and crafters in my life learn these same things, but differently. Forrest can tell you that measure twice, cut once is actually measure eight times, cut once, but also that if push comes to shove, you can usually find a way around flaws and mistakes. Most of all, though, I see a steadiness in them. There have been many imperfect projects, yes. But there will be many more chances to perfect, to branch out, and to learn.

In that learning lies the beauty of craftsmanship. I’m releasing the best version of this book that I could. And still, I promise you, if I return in a year or two, I could probably make it better. Gosh, I hope so. I hope I keep getting better at this. So yes, it’s a vulnerable thing, to put my creation out into the world. But it’s a beautiful thing, too. Perhaps the most human thing I know how to do.

Whatever it is, I’m grateful to all the people who helped me get here, and all the people who will take the time to read it. That’s no small gift from you to me – that gift of your time and attention. So to you I say, thanks for reading my words – whether they’re in this blog or in my book. It means the world to me.