Seasoned

Yesterday, D made a comment about the woodpile as we sat having morning coffee on the porch. "Look at how much it has settled since we stacked it last month. It reminds me of how people settle into certain ways as they age."

He met this man long ago when he was working for a chiropractor as a novice massage therapist. The patient had been in a nasty accident. The combined work of the chiropractor and the massage therapist had given him back 90% of his physical functioning, but the man continued to lament, "When will I get back that last 10%?" D asked his boss what could be done for this unsatisfied customer. The doc responded: "The man is almost seventy. He's had a major accident. We've worked some miracles getting him to where he is. He's never going to get back that last 10%."

So it got me to thinking about having realistic expectations. Physical flexibility is a free gift to the young, but as you age you must exercise to maintain it. Even doing your best, you will lose some of it over time. But as physical flexibility wanes, it can be replaced by growing reserves of wisdom: a flexibility of the mind and heart. I say "can be" because if you focus only on your physical self and fail to develop your mental, spiritual and emotional qualities, you will be disappointed by the results.

I do not fret over the settling of the woodpile. I expect it. I won't call my wood guy to say that as a result of the settling, I didn't get my full cord. The wood is aging as it is supposed to.

If we set our expectations and our goals to be in keeping with nature's way, we won't be disappointed. In fact, that old wood will burn with a warm radiant glow come winter.


Copyright 2007 starfishdoc

Waiting for Black Trumpets

About 20 of us sat under a tent that beautiful September morning. The scene was the Common Ground Fair, Maine's most popular annual event celebrating organic farming. We were there to learn about foraging for mushrooms.

The teacher passed around samples of the ten most desirable edible mushrooms native to this area. There was one he could not show us because it had eluded him for ten years. It was the black trumpet. Nevertheless, his enthusiasm for hunting wild mushrooms was so contagious that I began my career as a forager the very next day.

The woods were loaded with mushrooms of every size and shape. Being new at this, I took my time and followed all the directions for accurate identification. I couldn't have imagined that on my very first day foraging, I would stumble on a sizable patch of black trumpets.

Every year since, I return to the same spot, hoping the black trumpets will appear. Last year, they arrived in mid-June. This year, I have been out looking for them at least once a week since Memorial Day. I had just about give up hope. But yesterday, there they were, covering a patch of ground about ten feet square. The earth once more yielding her abundance.

Whether the crop is wild or planted, there is something besides abundance to learn from a harvest. And that is patience. Nature evolves in its own time, not on our schedule. And what applies to mushrooms or potatoes, also applies to people. We tend to want the people in our lives to change in the direction and at the speed we dictate. But the harder we try to make that happen, the less it is likely to occur.

All things in nature, people especially, grow at their own pace and in their own direction. The black trumpets, looking like ribbons of dark chocolate, arrived splendidly, not according to my expectations but by their own clock.

Copyright 2007 starfishdoc