Woodworking as Therapy: How a Melbourne Workshop Became a Safe Space
Nick Buckley carefully cuts timber at the Victorian School of Woodcraft in Melbourne, a place that has become much more than just a workshop for him. Following his first panic attack on New Year's Day 2022, Buckley found himself increasingly craving serenity amidst the psychological maze he was navigating after a traumatic life event. Woodworking emerged as an unexpected sanctuary where he could find reprieve from his mental health struggles.
The Unexpected Journey Begins
Buckley chose the Victorian Woodworkers Association in North Melbourne for its affordable pricing, emphasis on traditional craft, and the expertise of its tutors. The open class structure allowed him to begin creating whatever he wanted from his very first session. When he first entered the basement workshop, he anticipated finding monastic peace, slow craftsmanship, and the wisdom of experienced artisans working with soft timber grains.
Instead, Buckley encountered what felt like a multi-year hazing ritual for his already frayed nerves. The workshop presented limb-severing machinery, loud industrial noises, amateur embarrassment, inevitable compromises, and the reality of making mistakes. His initial project involved creating three cabinets to house his record collection, turntables, and DJ mixer, beginning with mapping his design on a large MDF panel.
Learning Under Expert Guidance
His instructor, Isabel Avendaño-Hazbún, a talented sculptor and textile artist, quickly became an essential guide. When Buckley initially wanted to avoid power tools and focus on traditional dovetailing techniques, Isabel humorously cautioned that people often practice dovetailing for twenty years before achieving mastery. She convinced him that power tools were the practical way forward for his project.
"I quickly learned it's always best to listen to Isabel if I want my body to look the same exiting the workshop as when I enter," Buckley notes. When Isabel shouts warnings across the machine room, it's to prevent serious injury from dangerous tools or flying projectiles. Her supporting tutors, Jess and Brandon, provide additional excellent guidance throughout the learning process.
Slow Progress and Technical Mastery
Over three years, Buckley has made gradual but meaningful progress. He has learned to:
- Select appropriate timber for projects
- Use a jointer to prepare boards for gluing into larger panels
- Operate a thicknesser to mill panels to desired specifications
- Confidently use various saws including drop, cabinet, band, and panel saws
- Work with "biscuit" and "domino" joining machines
- Operate drill presses and both hand and table routers
Working with salvaged blackwood to match his Condesa DJ mixer housing has required countless hours wearing protective masks to shield his lungs from the timber's potentially harmful fibers. While he has mastered many tools, the lathe remains daunting, and handheld belt sanders continue to challenge him.
The Workshop as Therapeutic Environment
Despite the maiming jokes and safety concerns, the workshop has become a genuine safe space for Buckley. The classes feature a decidedly mixed group of participants representing different genders, ages, sexual orientations, and political beliefs working side by side. As his proficiency has developed, Buckley has noticed his tutors' oversight relaxing, creating a sense of trust that makes him feel capable both within and beyond the workshop environment.
Initially, Buckley's mental state made it difficult to keep pace with Isabel's passionate teaching style. He finds her approach to mixing materials incredibly inspiring, particularly how she blends precision with roughness and experimentation. Against his natural inclinations toward perfectionism, she has taught him to accept things as they are rather than how he might wish them to be.
Philosophical Connections and Personal Growth
One of Isabel's artworks—a scaffolding construction of dowels, braided rubber inner tube, and cylindrical sawdust bricks—reminds Buckley of something from Frank Herbert's Dune, specifically the Gom Jabbar test of humanity that Paul Atreides endures. The book's famous litany has become applicable to his life both in and out of the workshop: "I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer."
Progress has been slow and often frustrating, with impatience invariably leading to damaged work. In three years, Buckley has completed just two of his three planned cabinets, though he adores what he has accomplished. His favorite design elements include the light-catching brass plate record dividers and the base constructed from rounded, stacked, and mitred battens that consistently draw compliments from visitors.
Transformation Through Craft
Woodworking has helped Buckley reconnect his mind to the physical world and reminded him that when he applies himself, he can create beautiful, tangible objects. During the most distressing period of his life, woodworking became the one reliable positive experience he could count on each week. He has become increasingly skilled at leaving his emotions at the workshop door, creating necessary separation between his mental health journey and his creative practice.
Buckley initially believed serenity would be his cure for panic attacks, but he discovered that exposure therapy—facing challenging situations in a controlled environment—was the treatment he truly needed. It has now been a full year since his last panic episode, marking significant progress in his mental health journey through the unexpected therapeutic medium of woodcraft.
