Spirituality

The trigger for my flow of words was a hammer on the floor next to the bottom maker at John Lobb. As a near-self-taught craftsman, I love noticing the little things that connect us, even though I didn't have the privilege of learning in such a wonderful workshop. But that hammer is like a language I speak fluently. It's a beautiful image – you watch other craftsmen use their tools and think to yourself, "Hey, I do that too!"

The man places the hammer next to his leg. Handle up. Within reach, ready to use at a moment's notice. It waits like a well-behaved dog for its master. But every time, he has to set the hammer correctly after use. This transforms this simple act into a ritual of appreciation. For this moment, for this work, for this tool. For the same reason, I kiss my shoemaking knives before and after use. Every time.

But perhaps even more impressive was his pace. His relaxed demeanor. This dude took his time, and I like that! I recently heard an interesting perspective from someone who chose a different career path. He said he enjoys spending time with shoemakers and watching them work. In his opinion, these guys work all day, but at the same time, they're not in a hurry. I really like that perspective.

John Lobb's bottom maker pulls out a lasting nail, but doesn't throw it on his apron or the floor. He grabs a tool and places the nail on the workbench. It's completely unnecessary. A waste of time, some might say. But it's a wonderful testament to his way of thinking. This small gesture explains where he is. I call this zone spirituality in shoemaking.

I see traces of similarities everywhere. It's comforting to note that such great shoemakers as the official world champions use the same tricks and techniques as I do, even though I developed them myself. Craftsmanship is a thought process. It's caring for your product. I even dare to say it's an expression of love for your product. My pairs are like children to me.

That's why Ken Hishinuma uses masking tape to cover the gap between the upper and the lining while working on his toe puff. It's because he cares, because he loves what he does. I've been doing the same thing for years. I've only recently noticed this similarity in his process. Of course, it's a practical matter. Many other shoemakers probably do the same. I'm just saying it's a testament to love and care for what you do.

I'm so grateful for Kirby Allison's series on bespoke shoemaking. It's full of great interviews and behind-the-scenes glimpses. You get to meet so many fantastic makers! The best material, however, comes from Japan. A series by Ken Kataoka or Ken Hishinuma features this unique way of translating the mood of our job into images. They are soothing, full of spirituality.

As humans, we enjoy watching others do their work. The more effortless and elegant the work seems, the more we enjoy watching it. If you’d listen to the stories of people who have become wealthy or won significant sums, you'll discover that a lack of effort or commitment quickly turns life into a meaningless hell. Jim Carrey once aptly put it: "I think everybody should get rich and famous and do everything they ever dreamed of so they can see that it's not the answer."

That's how we were created. We need something to do that gives us a sense of purpose. We have to strive for something to achieve happiness in life. When this natural need meets your true passion for your work, that's when the magic of a fulfilling way of living happens. Shoemaking is not a job, it’s a lifestyle.