Letting Go

Today's prompt was to write about a habit that I had tried to break but had failed to do so.

Firstly, I have an aversion to the word break. It reminds me of that phrase used in relation to horses - to "break in". It pains me to think that the spirit of such a magnificent being has to be broken in any way.

I also think that the more I might fixate on ridding myself of a habit the more tenaciously it might cling to me. So rather than break habits that do not serve me, I intend to bring a more compassionate awareness to them. Rather than pry off the fingers of the habit, I shall learn to gracefully let go.

The Habit of Harsh Words to the Self

In her book, Ruth Baer identifies self-criticism as a psychological trap. She makes a distinction between constructive self-criticism and unconstructive self-criticism. 

Constructive criticism provides specific insight into what went wrong and what to do differently next time. It’s considerate and respectful and it speaks to both strengths and weaknesses.

Unconstructive self-criticism is vague, inconsiderate, judges the person and is unbalanced.

An unhelpful habit of mine is to be self-critical in the unconstructive way. I need to practise non violent communication with myself.

Letting the Forest Find You

Six years ago I came to live in a cottage in the forest. In 2008 I wrote - "Life in the forest is heightened by having a minimum and living more fully...I feel that I have found the fulcrum - acknowledging that up and down, lost and found are essentially places along the way. I feel connected to the raven's raggedness, the branches' bareness and to the emptiness and fullness of the moon. I find feathers loose amongst the leaf meal that lift with the wind, as if the will to fly could resurrect - and perhaps it can".

A friend recently sent me this information:

"Shinrin-yoku is a Japanese term that means "forest bathing". The idea being that spending time in the forest and natural environments  is good preventitive medicine.  "The "magic" behind forest bathing is due to the naturally produced allelochemic substances known as phytoncides. When humans are exposed to phytoncides, these chemicals are scientifically proven to lower blood pressure, relieve stress and boost the growth of white blood cells. Some common examples of plants that give off phytoncides include garlic, onion, pine, tea tree and oak".

The forest is part of my daily existence.  As a Poetry Therapist, I work with individuals and groups, walking and writing in the forest. I know how it helps to heal.

I often read this poem at the start of  my "Treading Softy" sessions.

Lost

Stand still. The trees ahead and bushes beside you
Are not lost. Wherever you are is called Here,
And you must treat it as a powerful stranger,
Must ask permission to know it and be known.
The forest breathes. Listen. It answers,
I have made this place around you.
If you leave it, you may come back again, saying Here.

No two trees are the same to Raven.

No two branches are the same to Wren.
If what a tree or a bush does is lost on you,
You are surely lost. Stand still. The forest knows
Where you are. You must let it find you.

David Wagoner

The Dog Has Always Answered

Running in the forest with my border collie Nel is a regular practice that brings me great joy. I feel privileged to have her companionship - to share her exuberance, witness her intelligence and be the recipient of her immense loyalty. The forest is a special place for us. It helped heal us both.

Turkeys

Sometimes we saw shadows of gods in the trees; silenced, we went on. Sometimes the dog would bound off over the snow, into the forest. Sometimes a tree had twenty or more black turkeys in it, each seeming the size of a small black bear. We remember them for their care for their kind ever since we watched the big hen in the very top of the tree shaking load after load of apples down to the flock. Sometimes I felt I would never come out of the woods, I thought its deeper darkness might absorb me or feed me to the black turkeys and I would cry out for the dog and the dog would not answer.

           Galway Kinnell

Marvel and Stare

A friend from America sent this card which arrived today. It reads, "If the stars should appear but one night every thousand years how man would marvel and stare". Ralph Waldo Emerson.

Yesterday, I started the January NaBloPoMo challenge. The theme for January is "Habit". The prompt for today asked about any successful resolutions I had made throughout the years. One dictionary definition of "resolution" is "the firm decision to do or not do something". I think perhaps the most effective "resolutions" are those that enter us almost subconsciously, as through osmosis - we take in from the root of our need and lift it to every leaf. So without really knowing how and when it happened, I resolved to marvel and stare - to witness the extraordinary in the ordinary.

"And that has made all the difference".

Simplicity

The first day of a new year - a time for resolutions.

In "Walden" Henry David Thoreau wrote:

"I do believe in simplicity. It is astonishing as well as sad, how many trivial affairs even the wisest thinks he must attend to in a day; how singular an affair he thinks he must omit. When the mathematician would solve a difficult problem, he first frees the equation of all incumbrances, and
reduces it to its simplest terms. So simplify the problem of life, distinguish the necessary and the real. Probe the earth to see where your main roots run. ”

And so I resolve to bring simplicity into my being and doing.

Finding the right worm - Misquotes, Malapropisms and Meaning

"Every time the doorbell rang the dog started baking".

Copyright Graham Rawle 1991

"I can't find the right worm!", was once said to me by a frustrated five year old who was struggling to convey an emotional response in writing. That one misplaced consonant created such a vivid picture, perfectly suggestive of the effort it often takes to find precision in language.

Recently, when Desmond Tutu asked "to hear a pin drop" it was pointed out that what we actually hear is the pin land. We all knew what he meant so does it matter? I think it absolutely does when our desire is to untangle the complexity of emotion and express it so that we are more fully and deeply understood. In these situations asking ourselves, or having others ask of us, pertinent, searching questions can be essentiallly helpful in finding precision. I doubt that Tutu would have appreciated being quizzed as to whether he meant hear the pin fall or drop. Sometimes it's fun to let the imagination work with the imprecisions, the misquotes and the Malapropisms.

When I first met my partner, one of her sayings was "the world's your lobster". Imagine the different world that would be to having it as your oyster! And so too with Mrs Malaprop's "he is the very pineapple (pinnacle) of politeness".

Graham Rawle's "Lost Consonants" appeared in The Guardian from 1990 until 2005. He cleverly used the interplay of text and image, removing one important consonant to create his comic collages. I especially like the example above, living as I do, with a dog who barks whenever anyone comes to the door. It allows me flights of fancy - what would she bake? Would she wear an apron and use oven gloves? Beyond this, I think what it would be like to perceive that ringing doorbell or knock on the door as one filled with positive possibility - maybe guests are arriving in need of pastries.

The Door
by Miroslav Holub

Go and open the door.
Maybe outside there's
a tree or a wood,
a garden,or a magic city.
Go and open the door.
Maybe a dog's rummaging.
Maye you'll see a face,
or an eye,
or the picture
of a picture.
Go and open the door.
If there's a fog
it will clear.
Go and open the door.
Even if there's only
the darkness ticking.
Even if there's only
the hollow wind,
even if
nothing
is there,
go and open the door.
At least
there'll be
a draught.


Back to the frustrated five year old.
"Then just tell me about it", I responded.
And she did with perfect fluency.