A Walk In The Woods

I`m reading Bill Bryson's A Walk In The Woods in preparation for the book I'm going to write next year.  It's funny, but only about half way through did I realize, at a deep level, that it was about trees.  My mind this year has been so on technology that I've forgotten how important the natural processes of the world were to me.  But technology works best when we understand what it already wonderful and powerful in the world. It also works best when we realize what is vulnerable
  Consider the natural technology of the tree, from Bryson's book:
 
For all its mass, a tree is a remarkably delicate thing.  All of its internal life exists within three paper-thin layers of tissue--the phloem, xylem and cambium--just beneath the bark, which together forma a moist sleeve around the dead heartwood.  However tall it grows, a tree is just a few pounds of living cells thinly spread between roots and leaves.  These three diligent layers of cells perform all the intricate science and engineering needed to keep a tree alive, and the efficiency with which they do it is one of the wonders of life.  Without noise or fuss, every tree in a forest lifts massive volumes of water--several hundred gallons in the case of a large tree on a hot day--from its roots to its leaves, where it is returned to the atmosphere.  Imagine the din and commotion, the clutter f machinery, that would be needed for a fire department to raise a similar volume of water.

This has been without contest, the most difficult, uncertain and painful year of my life.  I have no doubt that there are many other uncertainties in my future.  But this year was just profoundly stressful at my core.  It is a really frightening thing to be poor, and I never want to be that bad again, and I would never want that for anybody.

But I survived and I have a year of writing ahead. For the next year I am doing the thing I have always wanted to do, the thing I have always dreamed of doing, writing a book.  Writing a book with no pressing responsibilities, other than to write that book.

To do this I need a lucid mind, a strong core, faith in myself and my abilities.  Faith in the value of my project.

To build these things, I will stand.

Winter Willow

There's a light snowstorm this morning. I went out to the park to sit beneath my willow tree. It's winter so of course the leaves are gone. But the drooping branches, so many, protect me from the wind and snow. I feel the power in stillness. I feel a deeply rooted cool as I stare out over the snow covered pond. I will nurture this feeling everyday and it will keep me safe from the change and the challenges and the anger of the people who surround me. It will help me to ease their anger and bring peace and power into their lives.
We focus so much on the brain and not nearly enough on the trunk. As though the source of the tree's strength is its leaves and its tiny branches. But the core of the tree's strength is nothing we can see. That's where its magnificence lies, not in its branches, but in its roots.

Leaning on my tree

Today I went to the park to stand in the sunglazed blue sky. I did a little chi kung. Stood for a while and felt the calm of the snow covered lake. And then I just leaned again the weeping willow with its golden leaves. when I felt the strength of that tree supporting me I suddenly realized how depleted of energy and strength I've become.
I've always considered the recommendation of doing the standing outside as not really important. For me what was important was to do it for long periods, or daily. But doing it outside brings an entirely different quality to the practice. A clear headedness that is difficult in my apartment. I feel a little bit of despair coming in here after the practice. But I know I'm going to use some of my energy to de clutter and dust Ben's room. I know that the outside will start soon to bleed into the inside. And I'll become a happier person and a better mother.

iced pond

I don't go outside enough for my practice. I know, I'm self-conscious. Zhan Zhuang is weird, it's cold, etc. Lots of excuses to stay inside and breathe the same stale are that is not exactly brimming with bright chi in my house. So I'm making a commitment to do at least some standing outside every day in the lovely park near my house.

There's a beautifully landscaped man made pond there, with tall old trees. This morning it's starting to get cold, weather turning into winter. The pond is icing over. Last week I noticed duck waddling their way across the ice. They're gone now. Just seagulls now, with yellowing weeping willows. But the sun is bright and feels good and warm on my back no matter how bitterly it is cold.