Stoicism

A twisted, broken old tree has much to teach us about life, if we would only stand and pay attention to it for a while.

Scarred, broken, its limbs twisted, its trunk gnarled, the old tree stands in the field like a bloodied boxer defiantly carrying on the fight.  Its beauty has long faded and it no longer stands tall and erect but bent and stooped under the heavy blows that the storms of its life have inflicted upon it.  Deep lines and grooves are imprinted on its trunk like the lines and wrinkles on the face of an old man or woman.  Our life experiences, whether we are man, beast of plant, are etched indelibly into our features and our soul.  Beauty has been replaced now by character and the tree draws you in as you observe it and tells its story with every furrow and gash, wound and weakened branch.  It tells of long, dark days and nights and battles with the elements that elicit feelings of pity and sadness for its condition. Perhaps my thoughts have diffused into the atmosphere and the tree has inhaled them with the air, for my eyes are directed more searchingly about the tree. There is more to its story. It is embattled and old yet it stands firm, roots deep in the earth and rock drawing life from the soil and water.  It has felt the heat of the sun, had birds singing from its branches and easy days of just being alive to the universe.  The hard winters give way to spring when renewed energy and new life flow through it.  It knows that life is a process of changing seasons, of ebb and flow, scarcity and plenty.  So it stands there, that old oak tree, telling its tale of stoicism and endurance and faith in the future.

Nature has much to teach us if we only stop and observe.  Trees have an important lesson to share about acceptance and fortitude.  John Cowper Powys (1872-1963), lecturer, philosopher, literary critic, and poet thought that where life is concerned, we should ‘Accept! Defy! Enjoy!'  This philosophy for living is one that could be ascribed to that tree. Powys believed that stoicism and acceptance are important characteristics to develop for they are the means to a more contented life.  He wasn’t saying that we can’t or shouldn’t change things, quite the opposite, for he firmly believed in our ability to create change.  But there is a right time for action and sometimes we have to just ride out the storm, accept things as they are for the time being, and carry on with courage, enjoying the small pleasures available to us.  Fighting, raging inside about a particular situation can make matters worse and achieve nothing but more suffering and unhappiness.  Sometimes, it is better to bide our time, cope with the prevailing conditions, weather the storms of life and when they subside, act, fight, create change, do whatever needs to be done.  Stoicism is almost an old-fashioned word and idea now but it a useful tool with which to arm ourselves against the inevitable storms of life. 

Field of Gold

Gold coins, gold rings and trinkets? No thanks, give me a field of golden barley...a gift from nature.

There is a field of barley growing alongside a road I regularly walk and I cannot pass it without stopping for a while to savour the whole scene and soak in the atmosphere.  Something about it arrests my attention and calls to something deep inside me  I think many people feel the same way and it was such a place that moved Sting to pen that beautiful song 'Fields of Gold.'

Each time is a new experience as the weather creates a different vista.  I think a field of barley shows us the subtleties of the atmosphere as few other natural features do.  Of course, trees move and bend according to wind direction and strength, sometimes being tossed about in gales or the leaves barely moving in a gentle breeze.  Perhaps it is because barley is smaller, more fragile and flexible that it is so responsive to every movement of the wind and air currents.  Growing in dense rows, the sheer quantity of barley is dramatic in itself and there is no finer site than the spectacle of the wind gently blowing and the sea of barley flowing in one direction as though an invisible hand is gently brushing across the tops. Looked at individually, the ears have a certain beauty and the ‘beard,’ the long tufts growing above them, give a feathery look to the plant.  The ‘beard’ is unique to barley and is what distinguishes it from wheat.

Yesterday evening was sunny and hot and we went for a walk, passing this barley field.  It was about 8 o clock and the sun was slowly sinking in the sky.  The effect of the sun’s rays was breath-taking as it cast its light through the ‘beard’ giving them a ruby hue transforming the field of gold into a field of strawberry-blond. Depending on the time of day, the degree of sunlight, amount of cloud, or presence of wind the same field is almost an entirely different place in look, sound and mood. 

That field to me is like a picture.  It is framed by hedges and fences with a wider backdrop of trees, fields and fells. It is always lovely and a pleasure to contemplate but unlike other great works of art, this one is fresh, vibrant and ever-changing.  But then it is painted by the greatest of all artists, the hand of nature.

Fields of Gold performed by Eva Cassidy

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bQB45Vk62ps 

Long Meg Stone Circle, Cumbria

An ancient place with an air of mystery...Long Meg and her daughters, a stone circle  that entices...

 Long Meg with Lake District fells behind her 
 

Today is the Summer Solstice and yesterday I visited Long Meg and her daughters, the stone circle not far from Penrith, Cumbria. 

Several people were already gathered there, obviously intending to stay and watch the sunrise this morning.  Walking around the circle, I had clear views of the surrounding fells both the Pennines and Lake District fells.  Blencathra stood in majesty with a crown of cloud atop its summit.  At such moments, it becomes obvious why such a location was chosen by our ancestors for their important monuments.  I sat on one of the stones and looked at the mountains, the lush fields, the huge expansive sky, the floating clouds and all the while was conscious of the age of the stones and that sense of mystery that emanates from the circle.  It hints at timelessness and the unknown.   

I have been to the circle many times and no longer wonder and speculate about the people who created this monument as I used to do.  No, the history and intellectual ponderings have been quietened by the feeling of the place. To sit silently, listening to the sounds of nature and letting eyes wander to sky, mountain, earth and clouds is enough.   

To feel this place is to understand it. 

William Wordsworth visited Long Meg and the circle and was inspired to write:

A weight of Awe not easy to be borne
Fell suddenly upon my spirit, cast
From the dread bosom of the unknown past,
When first I saw that family forlorn;
Speak Thou, whose massy strength and stature scorn
The power of years - pre-eminent, and placed
Apart, to overlook the circle vast.
Speak Giant-mother! tell it to the Morn,
While she dispels the cumbrous shades of night;
Let the Moon hear, emerging from a cloud,
At whose behest uprose on British ground
That Sisterhood in hieroglyphic round
Forth-shadowing, some have deemed the infinite
The inviolable God that tames the proud.