Don't Save the Sawdust.
Stuff created in the process of discovering the path can get in the way if it sticks around too long.
“All the king's horses and all the king's men can't put the past together again. So let's remember: Don't try to saw sawdust.”
—Dale Carnegie
When my father retired from the Delaware State Police, he decided to become a cabinet maker. Growing up working with his father doing carpentry he’d always been attracted to the beauty of the finish work as he called it — the cabinets in the kitchens and baths, the trim around the doors and windows, the little touches that made it all come together in the end.
Dad saw the beauty hidden within the wood and sought to unveil it. To bring it to life in the right way so others could see the story hiding in the graining and shading it had earned as it grew.
When I worked with him we’d spend hours going through lumber to choose the right pieces for whatever we were creating — seeking to find the patterns with the raw material we could release. Then mapping out how to cut each piece to ensure it delivered the right visual impact wherever it was placed in the finished piece.
Along the way, we created piles of sawdust and accumulated stacks of scrap wood — stuff that didn’t belong in the finished product but was vital to the process of creating it. At days end, my job was to clean up the sawdust and move the scrap wood into the bin where it would live until its turn came to appear in one of our creations.
Over time I learned the value of adding the extra step of organizing the scraps by color and grain pattern so we could easily find what we needed when the time came. And though I only did that kind of work for a handful of years, it shaped my view of just about everything I’ve done since.
The creation of the vision for the finished product was all about strategy. The careful selection of the wood was parallel to leading a team and bringing out the best in each player. The mapping of the cuts to support the fulfillment of the vision was about action planning and execution.
But what always struck me most was the sawdust and the scraps.
They revealed the necessity of letting go of things as you seek to achieve your vision. To get comfortable throwing away stuff you created during the process so it doesn’t get in the way later.
And the value of carefully selecting the pieces to keep for a time when they might fit in the future.
That’s what drives my creative process today — a lot of stuff created along the way is discarded, aka the sawdust, and a little is saved for the time when it might be useful, aka the scraps.
Today’s Action Question
Are you holding on to any sawdust or scraps you need to throw away to reveal the beauty within the story, idea, or project you’re working on right now?
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P.S. It’s worth noting this is not an easy process. When you first start, it’s tempting to throw too much away, then later wish you’d kept it. What I’ve learned to do is use version numbers on everything I create — a document title, followed by V.1 for the first version, then when I open to edit again immediately save it as V.2 and repeat the process every time I return. That way, the old version is always there and I am free to remove things at will with no fear of making a terminal mistake.