Western mind likes boxes. We seek meaning in the separation and delineation of the parts. The difficulty is that we forgot to do the last bit of the work- to return to the unity. To stand back and look at the big picture. The wood element and its associated season, spring is all about the big picture. It is the wood within us (our liver) that can access the grand plan. But having the plan is not enough. Spring invites action and the unfolding of the plan. Enter the gallbladder with its ability to dodge and weave, to adjust to continually changing circumstances. And what happens when the winds of spring blow through our lives and invite us to bend and sway?
Fergus would like to point out that you don’t want to end up looking like that tree.
So I invite you to explore the season of spring from Eastern mind (note that this is nothing to do with your brain- the Chinese had little regard for it, viewing it as a hollow organ where hopefully nothing gets stuck. We’re talking xin heart-mind here, folks.)
Wood is spring is benevolence is green is shout is rancid (fresh sap from a twig) is wind is anger is nails, eyes, sinews, ligaments and tendons is anger is cleverness is birth is the spear and the door is the east is is is…
What are you waiting for?
That arrived on February 4th. Get cracking.
”Speak from the heart.
She speaks from the heart and lies.
Doesn’t matter. Be quiet.
You told me to speak.
You are stupid.
Yes? I don’t think so. Anyway
I know who you are.
You are a pine tree.
Sixteen inches long, two feet across.
You are rotten. You have mushrooms
Instead of blood. You are a fly
On my back. You are that big long fly
Caressing together it’s back legs. I
Could eat you.
You are sawdust in my socks.
You are two weeks of this heat wave.
Don’t get smart with me, woodcutting work.
You are too heavy to lift.
You are filling my truck.
You are who started talking first.
No. I am who started talking first.
You let go of my splitting maul please.
You are gasoline mixed 16:1 with oil.
You are too god damn loud.
Someday, you are going to cut my foot,
You son of a bitch.
You are my hard hat that keeps slipping in the sweat.
Time to drink. Where is the water?
Sharpen the chain. Watch your step.
Yellowjackets, watch out!
Don’t lift with your back.
Don’t worry, Mother.
Your words are imprinted in my mind!
Time to pee on the ground.
There, on those gooseberries.
Who said that?
Who started this?
Look. A whole truckload
“Woodcutting” by Dale Pendell