Lessons of nature
Yesterday was one of those mild early spring days where you are convinced that yea! spring is finally here! (for the fifth time this year). But then you study the upcoming forecast and realise that it actually will snow again in just a few days. And night temperatures are remaining at around 0 degrees C, dipping to those below, for at least a week.
It's end of April and during most days it feels like end of January. The buds are bravely popping out from the various branches with the encouragement of the little sunshine it gets in between rain, storm and snow. But no leaves yet, not much is blooming.
It reminds me of that winter, the only winter I've ever lived on a sail boat in a northern country (Boston, USA), when it was like -20 C all the way until March. Slept with four sweaters, base layers, wool socks and hats, and woke up to see my own breath from underneath the many blankets. There was hope in that, too. Frustration would have never helped make it better.
You can't do much more with the weather than hope for the best. One of those things we can't be in control of. And isn't there beauty in that? One of the only few things we have left that we can't specifically take command over. The same way we can't control the outcomes of a childbirth. It's nature's few tricks that it still has on us. Believing and trusting more in the natural power of nature than the destructive nature of humanity, it somehow makes me happy to think that she, mother nature, has still got this. We have not yet been able to destroy her completely. I'll take a longer winter anytime for the sake of still being able to appreciate the whims and spontaneity of her power.
This majestic ash. I can't not marvel at the detail similarity it (and many other trees) has to the shape of our lungs, the organ which we need to be able to breathe. And the placenta that we all needed as a connector in between our mothers and ourselves in order to be born into this world. Just in the same manner we need the trees and the plants for our oxygen today. They keep us alive. Life on earth could not exist, if there were no trees. The same way a baby can't be born into this world without her connection to her mother through the placenta. We need each other. The trees are our lungs.
Wonder if more people accepted and truly appreciated this, would they then stop wasting time and resources, and begin to do more to help the world become more sustainable? As it is for the moment, we are collectively working in the opposite and wrong direction. If we continue this way, there won't be a world to live in for our children's children. Unless you rely on moving to another planet. It is at the disconnection people have with themselves, that the global disconnection and destruction begins. Everyone can do something. Each one of us can do more.
The estate that our landlord owns. We live in the red house to the second left and there's an old storage barn to the very left of our house. Our lovely rock shower room and sauna is in the third house from the right. It's a refreshing 1 minute walk there in the cold evenings, with only towels on. Makes you feel alive and truly appreciate the heat of warm water. And the warmth you create by the natural act of burning wood.
The big old barn on the far right, which back in the days housed cows and horses, is facing a long organic field facing South, where we are going to transplant our seedlings as soon as the weather gets a bit steadier. They're growing strong indoors for the time being.
I grew up in the countryside that looked just like this. I rode an old Push Dakota to my football (soccer) training two times a week, and rode my neighbours horses in the weekends. We had dogs, cats, aquarium fishes and Japanese dance mice and I spent lots of time in the forest building huts out of wood and branches with my friends. Somewhere somehow by never truly feeling at home in the adopted foster family situation, I lost connection to the simplicity of that sort of countryside life when I began searching for myself through the big cities of the world.
The five or so years of sailing and travelling the oceans of the world got me slowly back to it. Made me properly begin appreciating the beauty of nature again. Despite the challenges it meant to not growing up with my biological parents, I am endlessly grateful for the place and environment in which I lived during those important developing years of 8-16. The nature, the quietness and simplicity of that time have had a much stronger and more important impact on my life and being than what I previously acknowledged.
A dream life situation would be to give my child the spaciousness and naturalness of living this connected to nature, in combination with exploring the rest of the world. Which is why a small house in the Swedish countryside infused with forest, horses, home grown food + a set of jobs that allow us to freely roam the world, is the best possible situation we can think of for the coming years.