Trees

Sunday 7.33am

Sitting on our little veranda here at home I look out upon trees as far as the eye can see. I have always been drawn to trees, I do not know why and I am certainly not the only one that feels this way but there is just something . . .

Like the first movement in the salute to the sun that I do every morning the trees have their roots solidly grounded in the earth, and from here stretch up tall reaching to the sky. When the wind blows they do not oppose it but roll with it in a seemingly random swirling motion that brings them back to the centre once again to continue as before. I find this movement both the sight and sound of it very relaxing to watch, to hear, to feel even, for it seem to echo somehow within my own centre. As far as I know the trees are just doing their own tree thing and do not know I exist but when I am close to them I feel surrounded by . . . . possibilities.


LIfe is never dull when there are possibilities.

Just like dying but you can still feel the shame

Sunday 7.48am

3am. It is dark, black, and completely silent. This is that darkest hour just before dawn when it is difficult to believe that the light will ever come again. And I am awake. Midnight is the witching hour but of course that is just make believe. This is much, much worse. A land of the dead inhabited only by the things that normally lurk quietly in the deepest recesses of my mind. Things I have said and done in the past rise up to leave me writhing in agonised embarrassment all over again. And added to that any current worries I may have whirl round and round my head until I am completely disorientated with no hope of ever finding a solution. This continues until I eventually fall asleep again or get up and do something else accepting that I will be tired the next day.

There is a solution to this of course. Write them all down. As David Allen says in Getting things done any unresolved tasks in your mind will keep disturbing you over and over again, often at the least convenient times, until you do something about them. But if you keep a piece of paper beside you you can write them all down - clear your mind knowing that the problems are safely recorded to be looked at again in the morning.

Admittedly I have not done this. Just accepting that it is all part of who I am has done the trick for me. It probably goes a long way to explaining my rather introspective, slightly depressive nature . . . . .

One day I'll be vegetarian

Saturday 8.30am

I envy my cats straightforward views on life and death. If they are hungry, if it moves and if they can catch it - they will eat it. No questions asked, be it bird, rabbit or grumpy cicada. There is none of that tortured worrying that I go through.

But actually, lately I have noticed that my animal nature is not so far below the surface. When my youngest caught a fish recently (much to the surprise of both of us), it was only on the dock milliseconds before I had it whacked on the head and in a plastic bag ready to take home and cook. Youngest was a bit miffed though because he had wanted to keep it alive in a bucket to take to school!

And again yesterday when he dug up shellfish on the beach (Tuatua, a type of clam I think) it did not take me long to swap from "lets put them back" to "I wonder how you cook them?" Youngest will again be disappointed because he has plans to breed and sell them from home. Strong entrepreneurial tendencies there I think.

So I have no problems with wild food it seems, I just feel that if we are going to farm animals then we should treat them well and not as some sort of machine put here for us to use and then discard. The future lies in the organic movement I think along with education and knowledge helped by people like Jamie Oliver.

And vegetarianism? Well meat of course is the original fast food. The sheep and cows have done all the work of converting grass etc into something we can eat. But being vegetarian involves a lot more thought, cooking from the basics, and being the sort of person who deconstructs everything and anything, I think that this is the next step up in my cooking education and once the children have left home I'll be giving it a go.