Two tiny colourful dwarfs are proudly standing on our front yard at the moment bringing, I hope, happy smiles to delivery men that seem to be stopping on our street more often this week than usually. I wonder why… Children feel happier when they come back from school – the dwarfs make up for a lack of a dog to some small extent. They do not wag any tails, but they have funny hats and welcoming expressions and it is of course always nicer to return to a fairyland rather than to a grey and sad looking front garden full of sticks. That said, even the sticks, when they hold some lights, they change purpose. They seem to be designed for charm rather than hibernation. I think there is even a device that uses this re-purposing function of a stick. I think this device is called a magic wand.
Last week was filled with school performances, studying and end-of-year reflections and cleaning and sorting (I am still at it). We got so frustrated with the state of the house that we decided to stay at home over Christmas to finish our small-renovations and to restore the state of the house to a hospitable condition. It might be not the most glamorous way of spending the Christmas holiday but to be honest I could not bare the thought of going somewhere for rest, just to return to a house that is in a constant state of disarray. It has been like this for a bit too long for us and we must face the dreaded renovation before 2025 pops in for a longer stay. Interestingly, if you look for synonyms to the word renovation, you are likely to get such words as ‘redevelopment’, ‘improvement’, ‘renewal’, ‘restoration’ which are actually quite positive in sound and are fitting well into the theme of the new year. They are not quite close enough to the ‘new me’ type of concept, but perhaps a bit more true to reality since what we refresh or improve has already got its life and a beating heart. All that it needs is some work and attention. What do you feel would make your renewal possible during these coming weeks?
Last week I attended a supervision meeting with Maciej Bennewicz Institute of Cognitive Studies. There is always a sense of relief after discussing serious matters and dilemmas with others so I am very grateful today to the Institute for giving us the opportunity to discuss what we are troubled by and for taking very seriously the cognitive and relational dilemmas that professionals have. The Institute is well-known in Poland for its unique focus on Psychology of Subjective Experience as well as cognitive sciences and social psychology and provides support and guidance to coaches, tutors, mentors and psychologists. Back at home my mum worked as a social worker and she never had this type of support and I think her life would have been much easier if it was a staple at the time. I hope, Dear Reader, that you now have this type of support if you need it, wherever you are. This aside, Maciej Bennewicz practices a daily habit of posting a reflection or story online. He shares it on Facebook or in his publications. These posts are koans. Their structure and purpose derive from a Chinese tradition. They aim to open the door to a different way of seeing a situation. The story might seem illogical or paradoxical in some way. You can read his stories here. I always like this type of thought-provoking writing and I thought I would modestly attempt my own short-story here but on the theme of gratitude (somewhat inspired by the dwarfs on my lawn too) that might perhaps be more helpful to you than my own personal list of gratitudes. It would be lovely to write quite a few of those and to turn them into a book too. It seems like a worthy aim. :)
Forest Loops
Once upon a time there was a little boy who went to the forest to collect berries. He walked for over 3 miles, reached the woodland and searched everywhere for the berries but he could not find them. He left the forest upset and angry with the forest that it bore no berries. He only walked for a mile when a woodland dwarf stopped him and asked him why he was so upset. He explained that he went to the forest but found no berries and was upset that the whole journey was wasted. The woodland dwarf told him to go back to the forest and take the same walk again. The boy hesitantly did as he was told, walked through the forest and as he predicted he found no berries. He left the forest even more upset. When he met the dwarf on his way back, he complained loudly and angrily to him. The dwarf again instructed him to go back to the forest and take the same route. The boy although upset did as he was told and walked the same route for the third time. He found no berries and with anger headed home. The dwarf waited for him in the same spot and did not allow him to walk away. The boy exploded with anger and shouted at the dwarf to which the dwarf simply pointed to the forest and told him to walk there again. The boy being thoroughly upset entered the forest again. ‘There are no berries here!’ ‘There are no berries here!’ ‘There are no berries here!’ he kept on shouting and the echo was reiterating what he had already known. The boy sat down on a stone disappointed and angry and looked around. He saw some mushrooms glistening under a birch tree. He picked them and put them in his basket. Then he walked further and found more mushrooms, and then some more and kept on picking them until his basket was full. Then he noticed golden coloured leaves that would make a good crown for his sister’s school performance and filled his pockets with them and when he was walking further he saw a fallen tree and thought that the he will take a few branches for firewood. Equipped with woodland graces, he ventured home worried that he would meet the dwarf again. The dwarf was there waiting for the boy, looked at him and smiled broadly seeing the boy with the basket full of mushrooms, pockets filled with leaves and wooden branches on his back. ‘Now, you are ready to go back home’ the dwarf told him. The boy looked at the dwarf surprised and went back home.
Both photographs taken at The Birches, Ambergate, Derbyshire, UK.
Images and photographs copyrighted by Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, 2024.
(...) When ego bursts It makes space For the other...
Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, Autumn 2024
From the anthology On Immaturity (not yet published) by Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini Photograph: Alicja Pyszka-Franceschini, Ambergate, The Birches, Derbyshire, UK
How have you been lately? We are in the National Tree Week in the UK right now and it seems utterly wrong to me not to acknowledge it. In the simplest of terms possible, trees keep us going, don’t they? To them and because of them. Sometimes it is their depth that invites us, other times it’s their shadow. Kind enough to overlook our mischief, tender enough to sense our sadness, generous enough to handle our joys. We return energized after reconnecting with their and our essence. We become ourselves and I guess that British English informal saying ‘To be out of one’s tree’ (meaning to behave somewhat crazy) is to a large extent an indicator of our reliance on trees for long-lasting sanity. It is a shared feeling, isn’t it?
Well.. to give trees and our connection to them a just thought and an appreciative stance, I wrote a few verses for this week and read a few pages of The Power of Trees by Peter Wohlleben to get myself into the topic. It is one of my favourite texts on trees and a consistent inspiration for me as the novel that I am writing is primarily based in an ancient woodland. Alfred Wainwright, a British walker, illustrator and the author of A Pictorial Guide to the Lakeland Fells, gave himself 13 years, if I remember correctly, to finish his guides, I haven’t given myself that much time but my novel finds it hard to become a coherent piece. Nonetheless, I plan to finish it by the end of July 2026. It is a labour of love and I would like it to stay so. Are there any texts among your favourites that speak of trees and forests?
After I wrote the post about The Gita for Children by Roopa Pai, a few amazing things happened. One event led to me receiving the original Gita by post from someone. We were also invited to a lecture on the differences between Christ and Krishna (photos soon). I embraced it all because sometimes The Essence wants to come to us through multiple channels. I know that the Gita takes nature seriously and I am very curious of its approach to it. After all, our spiritual lives are one of our primary influences in shaping our ecopsychologies and our mindsets for scarcity or abundance, gratitude or non-recognition.
Hello you, Tree. Make us See. That without you, The course of life Forgets to breathe And goes wrong ways.
Through the dungeons of politics As dense as a carved slice of fog Placed in a jar of uncast votes That suffocate the future.
The tree, oh comfort and respite.
It stays potent and flexibly solid With its roots extending to neighbouring hills and branches simultaneously strong and tender protected by years of genetic experience against the utterly predictable forces of chaos.
The tree sways and it is its strength.
Chaos reigns Itself out of recognition. And it is its catastrophe.
The tree makes only one promise. To grow It gives you oxygen In partial compensation for space taken. As if it had to…
Furniture, instruments, books, crayons, utensils Firewood, bird-nests, frames and sledges are the givens within but in fact beyond expectations. This is how the tree excels Even after death.
If you like being inspired by woodland photography, see Nigel Danson’s Gallery for woodland and landscape photography. The gallery feels like a gentle massage for the mind and I can assure you it will be one of those moments of giving oneself some caring love to look through Nigel’s photos. They are great pieces of art. Enjoy them.
And let me know, how you are, will you?
The photos were taken in The Birches, Ambergate, Derbyshire as well as in our local park in Derby.
The Society of Authors has recently justly expressed in ‘The Author The Journal of the Society of Authors’ its strong disapproval regarding authors’ work being sent to to A.I. generators to create texts for education. This is apparently frequently done without authors’ permissions or consultations. Similar doubts, I suspect, appear among online writers and bloggers who simply worry that their writing style, crafted for years, would be hacked into and reproduced in multiple ways depriving the original author of their well-earned and unique voice. These worries are of course not alien to me and I do often question online publishing knowing at the same time that a lack of online presence reduces greatly my own verbal productivity and outreach to minds that also like to create with words (or images). That said, on examining my own writing styles, I can simply say that I am also made out all that I read over the years and my own inner A.I. brain is defiantly activated when I read or hear good writing. Tuning into styles is very common for language learners and decoders and I think it is our common pleasure, just as artists like to create a bit in the style of someone.
A long time ago I attended a photography talk at a camera club given by Paul Mitchell on woodland photography. I do remember being very much inspired by his work. To copy Paul Mitchell is impossible but to embrace his appreciation of the subject does not require much, especially if you happen to grow up next to a forest but were somehow dissuaded from heading that direction and then felt cheated when the adults went there themselves just before Christmas to find evergreens to decorate. ‘So is the forest safe or unsafe to visit?’
I know what answer The Woodland Trust would give, especially when it comes to visiting their trees, ferns and fungi..
I have been writing for a while now some poetry and fiction that features little bits or significant elements of the woodland and I am overcoming my fear of being eaten by the A.I. monster. I hope you will find it enjoyable and I hope you will visit your nearest woodland soon before all the leaves are hijacked by the wind and pathways turn to mud.
Apparently, it’s going to be misty tomorrow… time to get the cameras ready.
Postcards Without Stamps 