The first practical step was in December 2015 when an application for funding to start Sleights Area Men’s Shed (SAMS) was made to North Yorkshire (County) Council.
It was submitted to the fledgling Stronger Communities team and Karen Atkinson in person. It was written on a flight to Melbourne (9 hour stop over in Dubai) and a draft was sent on arrival at Melbourne Airport.
9 years later 5 Sheds were delivered though through loss of premises SAMS had to close during lockdown. The most recent descendent of that first Whitby Shed (and pretty much the first in North Yorkshire) has been Norton (on Tees) Men’s Shed.
Many men’s lives have been touched by these Sheds and also a few women. The Shedders built the Shed infrastructures (meaning the atmospheres) and gave their peer-to-peer support to each other.
How many people have been helped? Hard to say with certainty. But it will be two or three hundred Graham would guess. More if families of Shedders are taken into account. On Friday at a Christmas meal of Norton PubShed one spouse spoke privately of her gratitude for the change that the Shed had brought about in her man. It’s not the first time that sentiment has been been expressed.
It’s not all about Sheds. It about other organisations too that strive to provide a compassionate framework. That includes agencies such as council, health and faith sectors.
Signs of the Times
The above is one of the signs that Whitby Town Shed can now make since Steve and Leo got to work on the CNC router. If you are interested in having one ask Steve.
The CNC machine at work.
Three Shedders from Norton attended the Harrogate Woodworking Show where UK Men’s Sheds Association again had a presence. We met Anne Whelan, the newly appointed Northern Development Officer.
THERE WILL BE a North East Shed networking event in March 2025. Location to be decided.
1000 Faces of Sheds
Published in 2024, the stories are from 2022. They include Marie, Paula, Elaine, Rob and Graham.
There are copies for each of our Sheds,
If you are happy to share your story on our web site, please speak to Rob, Jim or Stuart.
3D Printing
Staithes, Norton and Whitby Town Sheds have all taken up 3D printing.
Norton is introducing it to a local prison. The fuller story of this is on Norton’s web site.
It is not possible to take equipment in. But understanding and ideas can fly!!
Norton has prepared a PowerPoint to illustrate what 3D printing is about. A kind of Ladybird PowerPoint!
[click on the link and a PowerPoint Show will be downloaded to play]
Staithes Christmas Trees made for Loftus Church
“I’m nearly 80 and there’s a void in my life that hobbies can’t fill”
It’s about facing the freedom you have now, not as an overwhelming burden but as an opportunity.
The question: I am nearing 80 and am overwhelmed by what I think is called existential boredom. The truth is I’ve been struggling with it for what seems like aeons… I have achieved all my ambitions – and loads more – but I’m now at a loss as to what do next. I am constantly told to get a hobby or join a choir, by people who have no idea of what deep boredom is. I envy them! What do you suggest I do?
Philippa’s answer [Guardian newspaper] That existential boredom you describe, it’s not just any boredom, is it? It’s not the kind that can be swept away with a new hobby or a trivial distraction. No wonder you feel frustrated when people tell you to “keep busy”, as though filling time could address what’s really going on inside you.
This phase of life isn’t about what you “do” next, but who you become next. And perhaps the most important step is to recognise that you still have that power. What happens next may not be about achieving external goals but about turning inward, toward the depths of who you are, and finding the next stage of your own becoming. It’s not an easy journey, and I don’t mean to minimise how isolating it can feel. But in that struggle, there is also the potential for profound discovery.
You’ve achieved your ambitions, reached goals you once set for yourself, and now you find yourself at a loss. What next, after all the striving and attaining? That place you’re in is what existential philosophers call “the existential vacuum”, where the old meanings have dried up, and the activities that once filled your life no longer sustain you. This is not an uncommon experience, especially for those who have truly lived, achieved, and accomplished. You have faced life’s challenges, but now, without those goals, a deeper question is emerging: What is left?
I imagine that at nearly 80, you are facing not only boredom but a deeper existential crisis, because this isn’t about boredom in the everyday sense but a confrontation with what the existential psychotherapist Rollo May called “being and non-being”. You are, perhaps, more aware than ever of your own finitude, of time itself slipping through your fingers, and this awareness can leave you feeling hollow. Yet, it’s this awareness that holds the potential for something more profound.
Your boredom is a call to find a new, deeper, form of engagement with life, one that transcends the goals and achievements that used to motivate you. I don’t think that the real issue is boredom – it is the search for meaning in this stage of your life. It’s about facing the freedom you have now, not as an overwhelming burden but as an opportunity.
That might sound daunting, but this is where Rollo May’s idea of creativity comes in. He didn’t mean creativity in the sense of painting or writing (though it could be that), but in the broader sense of how we relate to life. You may no longer be building a career or chasing after the ambitions of your youth or middle age, but that doesn’t mean the creative process stops. It just shifts.
What new ways of living, new relationships, or ways of engaging with the world might still spark something in you? What might you contribute, even if only quietly, to those around you or to the world at large? This could be something altruistic like listening to schoolchildren read, or something of mutual benefit like good conversation.
It’s not about being “busy”, or filling your days with distractions, it’s about asking: What still matters to me? It’s about reclaiming the freedom you have now, even if it feels uncomfortable, even if it means confronting uncertainty. What parts of yourself have yet to be explored? Are there conversations you’ve never had, people you’ve never truly connected with?
I wonder if, in some way, you’re being called to confront your own authenticity. What is most authentic to you now? You’ve been through so much of life already; you’ve seen beyond the illusions of constant success and striving. So now, what calls to you at this deeper level? What kind of being do you want to embody, now that your life’s work is, in many ways, complete?
And of course, there is also the shadow of “non-being” that hangs in the background. Rollo May would suggest that embracing this, rather than denying it, can bring a sharper sense of meaning to the present. It’s not about despairing at the end but, rather, seeing that the fact that life is finite is what gives it urgency and meaning. The awareness of death is what can make life, in the here and now, all the richer.
You are not alone in this. So many of us face that void, that sense of “what now?” But what you are going through isn’t a failure of imagination, it’s the human condition, and it’s an opportunity to reshape your own meaning, even now.
A lot there of sense in that piece. Mmmm, how about a Men’s Shed for him?
This leads on to a visit Matt Baker and his Dad paid to Robin Hoods Bay a year ago (2023), for the Victorian evening but also to visit some projects including BayThorpe Shed.
Elaine Marsh from the Bay forwarded it tonight. Matt’s Dad, like a few of us, is getting a bit forgetful and Matt adjusted his priorities to go places with his Dad (and a camera crew!)