It matters to write on small matters
How lying in the park, makes you find a little matter to write about and actually learn from it.
Last time I wrote about my ongoing struggle on keeping on writing because so many other things seemed more important.
Since then, I received enough encouragement that my inner drive to write is filled up. Thanks for that! And it was not only the personal messages I received. It was also about taking enough time and sharing my struggles. Putting it all together made me realize that I do have a message to convey through my writings. But, that I need and want to keep writing, firstly for myself.
The setting
As we are approaching the longest day of the year, one desire came up to write about. Lesson one: never ignore that spur of the moment! So, I decided to follow that feeling: to write about nature. I admit, that is a pretty broad subject. It can be anything from climate change to the unpredictability of the forecast websites, whether it will rain on Juhannus eve or not.
Last weekend the afternoon sun was shining brightly. Surrounded by the sweet smell of roses I lay on a blanket in a park . My eyes followed a little passing cloud that momentarily covered rays of sunlight. The reflecting warmth of the sun made me sleepy. My eyes were about to close, when my head unconsciously turned and glanced at huge spruce tree. ‘How come I did not notice that tree before?!´ I wondered. Little bright green patches grew from the far ends of darker green branches. True, little gems there were luckily not yet handpicked to make a syrup or an alcoholic based liquor.
The investigation
Looking further upwards, some branches were still pulled down by huge cones. Waiting to be let go. Or perhaps waiting for a stronger wind that will blow them off. What will happen to those cones, once they fall to the ground? Perhaps I need to go back to the very beginning.
My curiosity won over sleepiness and I got up to take a closer look at the branches. I heard the soft voice of the spruce tree explaining to me:
First the side branches of a main branch will grow stronger so birds, squirrels and other little creatures can rest. Then one year the internal life vain within me signals to certain branches:
From now on you are no longer a branch. You are given a new task to serve our tree. Your new task is to provide for offspring to this forest. The small ends of your branches will slowly turn into huge, brown cones. The surrounding branches will protect you from rain, wind and hungry creatures.
Continue to grow
If you turn into a female cone and you are big enough, do not let go. Wait for the springtime when male cone pollen powder will be blown into you. Keep holding on to the life vain of our tree. Protect the seeds in your cone. Give it time to grow inside of you. Trust on the surrounding branches. After two, three years have passed, you will know the moment when you will be let go. In the meantime I will not intentionally shake you off. When it does happen, trust in what you already know and are given.
Are we writers not a bit like those cones?
As I was typing my paper notes, it made me think how good it feels to dive in a little topic and write thoughtlessly about it. Reflecting on it I realize that in the end a writing process can be similarly to the life of a cone.
Sometimes I make a ´growth spurt´ in my writing process. Sometimes I need to just ´hang in there´ and let a small matter simmer on a slower speed.
Today I choose the latter. I am going to let my thoughts simmer for a while.
Perhaps do what is the best on the longest day of the year:
Feel the embracement of nature’s beauty.