To whittle a whistle

Another hobby that I spent much time on growing up was whittling. I didn’t necessarily try to make anything special, it was more the process or the action. To chip away at a pice of wood. To see it go from being one thing to becoming another. It was something I enjoyed immensely, and sometimes I can still find myself getting lost in time and space as I work with a knife and apiece of wood. I have always liked knives. They are quite simple, yet they have an enormous versatility and complexity to them. Different types of steel, types of grip, shapes and size of the blade. Some are meant to spread butter, some are meant to manipulate various materials. 

I have usually found the “traditional” knife preferable. It can be used to many things and lies good in my hand. 

I could spend hours whittling away on a piece of wood. I could sit out in the forest, in front of the fireplace at home, out in the garage, on the porch.. The place wasn’t always important, it was the “meditation”. To transform a piece of wood into another piece of wood. Maybe it is like us humans. We transform through our lives, but we still stay human. We have to “whittle” ourselves at times. Become a different piece of human. 

I realised that several of my hobbies have been of a more “meditative” type. It hasn’t been about the act or the hobby itself, but about the ability to find something one enjoys doing, and be able to drift off and disconnect for a time. Let go of stress, worries, tension, homework or other things that I have wanted to escape from. And I have especially enjoyed using my hands doing these things. To use my hands and tools to simply empty my mind through practical and concrete actions. 

Yeah.. I can suddenly see how I have used several different means to avoid dealing with things I have found unpleasant. And that I have done it for far longer than I expected. 

That was an unexpected turn as I planned on writing about this today. Well, I suppose it’s something I have to look more into later.  

But for now, I will just think back with fondness to hours upon hours spent turning a stick to a different stick, making a piece of wood transform – as I with magic – into a different type of a piece of wood.