Whats up with all these workshops?

I'm a big fan. (They also might be just what your anxiety needs.)

I’m a big fan of workshops and classes (both hosting and attending) and have posted about them often. Frankly, I think you should be a fan too. They’re overlooked, underrated, and I’m here to make a case for them.

Got Anxiety?

First, I want to get something out of the way: These classes are not generally easy for me. If the idea of intimate instruction alongside strangers ties your stomach in knots, you and I are in the same boat.

I’ve had life-long issues with social anxiety, depression, and a general dread of not belonging. I was an opioid addict and alcoholic for well over a decade, which was largely self-medication for the aforementioned problems. So, over the past 12 years of sobriety—especially early on—socializing has been damn intimidating. But, it’s gotten a LOT better.

Paradoxically, I’ve found workshops and all their discomforts to be a key tool in conquering the above mental health woes. Workshops act as a sort of exposure therapy. The more you’re not into this, the better it might be for you.

That said, let’s get into it.

Growth and pushing boundaries.

There’s so much to be gained from pushing the boundaries of one’s comfort.

We settle into ruts. Stick with what we know. Which works… for a while… until some family obligation, or new job, or tragedy, or whatever, forces us out. Then what? How do we deal?

It’s deeply uncomfortable to step out of that zone, but that’s where growth lives. That’s where you build resilience.

My buddy Ryan Holiday talks about this a lot. It’s a reoccurring topic in many of his books and something he and I discussed on his podcast. Intentionally seeking out the new and uncomfortable is also a frequent theme in Kevin Kelly’s fantastic collection of advice.

Workshops provide a hurdle—learning a new skill, being in the higher pressure environment of a formalized class, socializing with strangers in an unfamiliar environment.

On the other side of that challenge is an accomplished and more capable human, less rattled by the obstacles ahead.

They’re an overlooked and accessible asset.

There’s a lack of awareness around workshops and private instruction and—if you’ll pardon the phrase—this makes them a sort of “life hack”.

Do you enjoy playing soccer? Pickup games in the park? Has it ever occurred to you that you can probably hire a coach? I did that with pool (like, billiards pool). Totally worth it. Do it with a friend. It will likely cost less than you’d think.

The fact that they’re overlooked makes them a unique opportunity to set yourself apart. In a professional sense, if you’re looking to bolster a dull resume or interview, these unique pursuits are interesting. They’re special. Seeking challenges stands out against all the other candidates who just did their jobs.

It also means that you’ll meet likeminded people who are similarly motivated or driven. Interesting people make good friends. And a good professional network.

Meeting quality people.

Friending in adulthood is hard. At workshops you’re meeting people that share your interests (even if that interest is merely “growth”) and bonding quicker than you would over coffee as you work together and support one another over hours or days.

Depending on the length and location of a workshop it can be quite intimate. Like, summer camp intimate. I did a timber framing workshop in 2015 where we spent nine days working, eating, and bunking alongside one another. You make friends fast. I’m still very close with a half dozen people I met there.

Timber frame workshop, 2015. Photo by Adam Newport-Berra.

Capability.

There’s two components here, and the first might be obvious– you’re coming away from a workshop with hard skills. You didn’t know how to throw clay, and now, after a class at the community college, you can make your own ceramics. That feels good. And has function; everyone is now getting coffee mugs for the holidays.

The second part is less obvious. It’s a generalized increase in capability and confidence. Every new skill that's amassed and discomfort that's overcome is a merit badge on your chest. It bolsters your sense of self.

Case in point: I met my buddy Tom Bonamici while attending one of his timber framing workshops and have since hosted or helped on several more. I’ve seen dozens of folks go through these builds who are likely to never timber frame again, but they’ll still rave about the benefits of the experience. A week of learning how to measure, saw, swing a mallet, work with one’s hands around sharp blades, and communicate and labor with others is immensely valuable in shoring up a general sense of assuredness.

(Note: This aspect of building workshops can be more gendered with women, many of whom lack the confidence or experience around tools and find this insecurity exacerbated by men who are overstating their own competence on the job site. But a week of seeing just how incapable some men are, and just how capable one can be, does a lot to engrain newfound confidence.)

Filling in the gaps.

I tend to be self-taught and it works well for me, but this caused me two problems.

One, there is often foundational knowledge I somehow skipped over while teaching myself some skill. Two, the awareness that I have in these gaps fuels imposter syndrome. I always feel like a novice because surely I missed something obvious.

In truth I will probably always feel amateurish to some degree, given that the more you learn the more you realize you don’t know. But, it helps to patch up those holes by going back to the basics and spending a weekend with a professional instructor. Even if I end up covering familiar ground, there’s nothing wrong with retreading that tire (especially when there are risks and safety involved.)

A current example: I’m on the wait list for a school that does chainsaw and rigging work as it relates to tree work and tree felling. I do all that stuff now… but I’d love to learn some of the finer points from some pros and fill in gaps in my knowledge while meeting some like-minded individuals. 

So how do you go about finding these workshops?

Community college curriculums are a good start. I’ve taken photography classes at my local community college, along with writing, Spanish, and a few other odds and ends.

Local studios and maker spaces are the next thing to Google. Many have a robust curriculum. Molly has taken ceramics at a maker studio. I did a welding class at another. We also jointly assembled succulent planters at Workshop SF.

There will be other local organizations that do more speciality classes. First aid and other first responder-type educations are a great choice, as medical care is a very practical skill to have. There’s other niche educations, like ForageSF here in San Francisco. Or cooking classes. Or trade and folk school programing.

If you have an existing hobby, check with local speciality stores to see if they do classes. Molly and I got some archery instruction at a local shop. You can Google (or ask on forums or Reddit) for private instruction from an individual who will meet you in a park or gym or wherever. I’ve gotten personalized education on rope work and tree climbing, fly fishing, free diving, marksmanship, olympic weightlifting, Muay Thai, etc.

Or, if you want to get really creative you can reach out to people who don’t even normally offer education, but still might enjoy sharing their passions. This happened on my 32nd birthday when Molly reached out to a local butcher who was willing to bring me into his shop and show me how to break down a side of pig.

That was so interesting that she and I took another butchering workshop at a private home, and, building off that experience, we’ve hosted many pig butchering workshops where we share in the cost of a side of pig from a local farm and I show friends and strangers how to break it down and package it up. Afterward, we feast.

Hosting workshops.

That brings me to my final bit on hosting your own workshops. YOU can put on a workshop. And—truly—this might be an honest to god “life hack.”

As I said up top, I’ve dealt with a lot of social anxiety. Part of that is feeling uncertain about my value or role. Hosting a workshop is, in many ways, easier than attending one. I have a role. I have a purpose. I’m the facilitator (and/or the educator.)

If you’ve ever been crawling out of your skin at a dinner party until—thank god—the host gave you a task… this is basically that. Only more impactful.

In facilitating these events you are adding value to your community, while selfishly benefiting from it through skill building and friendship. You don’t have to go out and find community. You can bring it to you and—while I agree it can be pretty intimidating—I’ve found it’s actually far more comfortable to have a defined role and the proverbial home field advantage, as opposed to being just another attendee in an unfamiliar venue.

Organizing one is not as daunting as it might seem. There are a lot of people who have skills and enjoy sharing them. Molly and I hosted a water-coloring workshop that our friend Alexandra taught. Pumpkin carving too, run by another friend, Erin.

Instructors don’t have to be the best in their field. They just have to know a bit more than the neophytes they’re teaching. Someone in your town knows how to carve a spoon (or a pumpkin), how to sketch wildflowers, or bird identification, and they would LOVE to share their esoteric knowledge.

(And if you think you don’t have the space to host, we’ve butchered pigs in our apartment living room.)

Point being, this is doable and worthwhile. Those teaching will be thankful you provided a chance to share their passions, and there are certainly at a handful of participants who would relish the opportunity to learn and make new friends. And both are the types of humans worth spending time with.

That about covers it. Workshops. Can’t recommend ‘em enough.