In school, I was terrible in shop class. We had to make a wooden paper towel hanger, but I always wasted wood, screwing it all up. The machines scared me, the teacher yelled at me, but looking back, I think I was scared of being “found out” that I wasn’t a “real man.”

But I love making things. A friend once told me how he loved going into his shed, closing off the world, picking up a tool, carving wood and making something beautiful. I realize how privileged I am to be able to go into a room, close the door, pick up an instrument and lose myself in that same hypnotic act of creation, much like the carpenter in this week’s song who “ignores (his) buzzing phone as distant headlines break.”

“In My Hands,” is the first song of the year! What better way to start the year than to shut off the noise and confusion of yesterday, clear your mind and reboot, tracing “the lines of grain” until “the world outside disappears.” (Except I am keeping an eye on the horrible fires in LA. We lived there for at least 10 years, and I’m finding myself scouring every Facebook page to see how they’re doing. Even with that weighing on my mind, creating music offers a kind of refuge.)

Listen here on Youtube, and below are the lyrics and the links on where to purchase the song. You are free to stream the songs but purchasing them is the best way to support independent artists such as myself. Or if you have the means, you can make a small donation through PayPal or Venmo using my email address: steveshack@gmail.com.

Here are the links and lyrics to “In My Hands” and happy new year!

Apple Music

Spotify

Amazon Music

In My Hands

©2025 by Steve Schalchlin

My fingers trace these walnut boards
I’ve saved for twenty-odd years,
Following the lines of grain
The world outside disappears

I ignore my buzzing phone
As distant headlines break
I start a brand new cabinet
I control what I can make

In my hand
Treasured plans
I control what’s
In my hands

My father’s tools worn smooth with time
Carve fine lines in this wood
A older craft than I am
Through time his work has stood

Trending topics fall away
And die outside this place
This cabinet will hold cherished things
More precious as they age

In my hands
Are my plans
I control what’s
In my hands

Kids will hide behind these doors
They won’t know my name
Blankets, keepsakes, cubbyholes
Inside this crafted frame

The world outside moves faster
With each day, new stress and more
I count my time by shavings
From my workbench to the floor

SOLO

At night, I put it all away
And focus on us two
I put myself where I feel safe
The last place that feels true

In your hands
No more plans
I am safe here
In your hands