“This is the work for those who are skilled and peaceful,
who seek the good:
May they be able and upright, straightforward,
of gentle speech and not proud.
May they be content and easily supported,
unburdened with their senses calmed.
May they be wise, not arrogant
and without desire for the possessions of others.
May they do nothing mean
or that the wise would reprove.
May all beings be happy.
May they live in safety and joy.”
– Gotama Buddha
The sound of a chainsaw working at full throttle raced across the field, interrupted at regular intervals by the sound of a huge ash, or ancient thorn, crashing to the ground. As they fell I could clearly hear the branches brushing through the surrounding trees like great hands reaching out in a last futile gesture, grasping for help and support. Each evening I walked through the wood, my Cathedral, looked at the empty spaces, and made a mental note of those trees still standing that would be next to fall – in spite of the beautiful summer weather there was a dark cloud growing on the horizon.
I understand that intentions are the seeds from which, if nourished, actions of body, speech and mind arise. Those intentions, the nourishment and the actions go on to define who and what you are, what you will become; of this I have no doubt. I was having many and varied thoughts – there were many, many intentions jostling for my attention – and, they weren’t simply about hot-wiring dumper trucks and diggers to take them off and hide them – I didn’t like where this was going; if I wasn’t careful I could see myself on ‘the lamb’ like Edward G in one of those glorious old black and whites that filled many lazy Sunday afternoons. Or, worse! Maybe I was seeing things too literally, maybe it was all, briefly, just too black and white – where was the glorious Technicolor? Even the old black and whites had wonderful subtleties of shade and light, nuance.
I realised that those qualities, principles I aspire to were, at this moment, far, far away from where I was standing – I wasn’t even in the same field as them; if I was lucky, maybe I was standing by the hedge looking into the field, I just needed to find a way through so I could start to make my way towards them. I needed to do something that would provide an antidote to my current emotions, intentions and thoughts, and that would give them space to settle. This was not to ignore what was going on, but to allow perspective, clarity and understanding to form, hopefully.
I visited the woodpile, poked about a bit, and came away with two beautiful hazel logs, one fresh and green, the other well-seasoned and spalted. Usually, when working with hazel, the standard practice is to use fresh-cut branches and sapling growth to quickly and easily form the parts of the chair – just measure, cut and put together. Recently, however, I have been working with ash and making all the parts needed from a single log. It’s a bit more time consuming, requires more effort, but is ultimately very satisfying, as the whole process facilitates quiet thought, and every now and then a sense of calm arises – which is quite nice. I was going to do the same with the hazel.
I was going to make a chair for a Lady. It would be what it would be, and I would allow it to develop as it chose; like the white cloud in the summer sky – it would move wherever the breeze blew it and be content. And, there would be time and space to examine thoughts and intentions.
As I worked, I considered a few things. I listened to the chainsaw across the fields and heard a slightly different note with each passing day. The gaps in the wood were no longer empty spaces but great openings allowing light to penetrate and warm the soil, encouraging and nurturing fresh new growth – those seeds, lying dormant for many years, would be nourished, grow and develop into new and magnificent life.
Metta – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Armchair
I considered the many, many benefits that would be bestowed on those in need from the wood that was being harvested, and I was glad. I actually smiled at this.
My mood lightened, the chair began to take shape, and the harsh, sharp divisions of black and white gave way to subtleties of shade, light and colour. Maybe I wouldn’t need to go on the lamb after all – which was a nice though.
Metta – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Armchair
As I finished the final coat of wax I considered my attachments and the difficulties they have and do cause. I am still standing outside that field, looking over the hedge to where I would like to be, but, maybe, there is a small opening starting to appear which one day I may be able to make my way through.
I finished the chair and it turned out better than I could have hoped.
Metta – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Armchair
Metta – Greenwood Hazel and Yew Armchair
I hope The Lady likes it.