I just read a blog post by Courtney Carver, (founder of the minimalist projects Be More with Less and Project 333), When Nothing Reveals Everything. She wrote about how, to some people, Minimalism may be described as stark, scary, empty. As I was thinking about it (and thinking about how this could describe my feelings when I was diagnosed with cancer), I looked out into my Wintry back garden and saw my 2 lovely fruit trees that in my mind are promising me so much this year. They have no leaves on them, but their trunks look sturdy in the February sunlight. There is a stark beauty about them (this word seemed to resonate with me today). They are blowing in the blustery wind, but birds sit on their branches, they are peeping above the garden wall. When you have an illness like cancer, you are often literally naked (well those surgical gowns hardly count as covering) but also you feel like all your emotions are on the surface, like some barrier has been pulled down and you are there in all your real rawness. You can't hide your emotions, you can't hide the fact you are ill (you can try, but you can't escape the facts that are known to yourself). But it is in these difficult times, with nothing covering us, that our true selves are revealed. We have to face up to things, and others do too. But in that fact, there is also beauty. And the strength that has been uncovered was always there, under the leaves.
As I was thinking about trees, I came upon the following paragraph by Paul Kirtley, a wilderness bushcraft specialist, who has kindly given me permission to include it here.
It is from his blog, and describes identifying trees in Winter.
"Learning to identify trees in leaf is certainly easier than without. But if you only learn to identify trees by their leaves in summer, you are only getting to know them in one mood and you are only getting to know one part of the tree. Learning about trees at other times of the year forces you to focus on other defining features. If you also take the time to observe the flowers, fruit, seeds, bark and buds of a tree, you will not only be much better at identifying trees year-round, you learn about the tree's full annual cycle. This study will give you a much greater insight into how all the seasons are connected and how for the tree, they flow from one into another. The better you know the trees all year-round, the better you will be able to recognise valuable resources, and the more you will feel at home in the woods all year round."
By supporting our friends and family when they are ill and in the wilderness, we get to know them in all their moods and colours, but feel more connected, and in that way, they will not feel so lonely and lost in their illness. We can arm ourselves with knowledge about their "other defining features" which are exposed without their hair, confidence and health and help them discover their strength, humour and resilience which will help us all navigate through the difficult times.
Not my fruit trees
As I was thinking about trees, I came upon the following paragraph by Paul Kirtley, a wilderness bushcraft specialist, who has kindly given me permission to include it here.
It is from his blog, and describes identifying trees in Winter.
"Learning to identify trees in leaf is certainly easier than without. But if you only learn to identify trees by their leaves in summer, you are only getting to know them in one mood and you are only getting to know one part of the tree. Learning about trees at other times of the year forces you to focus on other defining features. If you also take the time to observe the flowers, fruit, seeds, bark and buds of a tree, you will not only be much better at identifying trees year-round, you learn about the tree's full annual cycle. This study will give you a much greater insight into how all the seasons are connected and how for the tree, they flow from one into another. The better you know the trees all year-round, the better you will be able to recognise valuable resources, and the more you will feel at home in the woods all year round."
By supporting our friends and family when they are ill and in the wilderness, we get to know them in all their moods and colours, but feel more connected, and in that way, they will not feel so lonely and lost in their illness. We can arm ourselves with knowledge about their "other defining features" which are exposed without their hair, confidence and health and help them discover their strength, humour and resilience which will help us all navigate through the difficult times.
