Transformation 

Throughout my (almost) seven decades, I have engaged in the process of change as directly as possible. No battling or fighting – but rather dancing with :) no matter what hardship. This guiding melody forces me to listen to whatever life is gifting me. To be sculpted & tempered with as much consciousness as I can muster. Desiring to learn, be present, be molded by the forces bigger than us. Growing – inner and outer transformation.  

 

Mama Oak’s transformation – evaporating into another Gestalt? – is a joyful and exhilarating dance and adventure, lasting three days. My allies, natural curiosity and courage, help me to be present with all my senses, body and mind. The kind, and extremely skilled crew of six and the foreman Luis allow me to be around the whole time of this very dangerous work. My agility and 360-degree awareness are the necessary skills. Observing, taking photos, knowing when to get quickly out of the way, and pointing out certain pieces of wood to put aside.

  

 

Much of the time everyone is covered in blinding storms of wood flakes getting blown all across the garden. The experienced crew has created a pulley system to guide the oak’s pieces safely to the ground. Huge parts of the branches and trunk are being sawed off by the cutter up in the tree. The person on the ground has to pay close attention to pull at just the right moment, steading the falling, dangling, swinging, at times wildly swirling big limbs down. One mistake could injure a co-worker or knock over my cottage in a second. I tell them I sleep there. Watching for hours, I admire how the laws of physics – e.g. gravity, momentum, unpredictable explosive forces of the wood – have to be well known and respected for everyone’s safety. Often, we break into joyful exclamations. Their work is exciting, strenuous, grueling, constantly at the edge of danger. It is “high” art – hohe Kunst – and science. I am buoyed by the joy that is present, the laughter, banter, the appreciation, nods and smiles. These tree work masters are beyond strong. Constant flow and movement, presence and awareness, in concentrated service to the demanding task of removing the oak. And in tune with each other, and all other elements, like ropes, tools, chain saws, as well as the hill, gravity, balance, winds. Thank goodness, the weather is unseasonably cool, the sun hidden behind clouds.  

 

The team is working intelligently, smoothly, lightning fast, and the caring for each other is palpable. After cutting and sawing huge pieces of heavy oak wood are seemingly floating downhill, magically balanced on their shoulders and carried down the winding uneven stairs (85 -90 steps). Then, elegantly, they let them drop onto the chipper’s platform. Another pushes the chunks closer to the frightening super power of the chipper’s big augur. It is hard to believe how fast that machine devours, spitting out mulch. The blades have been sharpened recently. We nod at each other, buried in grinding pounding sounds. Even Santos and Jorge shake their heads in awe. 

 

Each day, I myself run the 80 stairs about 30 - 40 times up and down. At the end of three days, even though my T’ai Chi practice has supplied me with strong thighs, I feel it in my body :) The workers cannot rest, they have to go onto another assignment, hopefully not as strenuous.  And Mama Oak did not go to rest; she is in my lungs and skin by now. Four huge truckloads of wood chips will go to a playground and garden in Albany. And I will always remember her complex musky fragrance – which easily could be an expensive perfume – lodged in my nose, throat, and heart. 

 

Besides taking stills, I also keep choosing oak pieces to be saved for two different wood workers. Each has educated me what to look for so they can make bowls for themselves and perhaps some for me. I have to go with the fast flow of sawing, loading, carrying down, quickly stepping out of the way. Sometimes I clamber my way back up on the hill’s terraces to leave the stairs open. When David and John show up to get their wood, some of the crew graciously help lift the unimaginably heavy chunks into their trucks. Both artisans will rough-cut the wood, then let it cure with specific recipes for about 6 months, and eventually turn bowls. 

 

Five of the crew for a moment’s rest 

 

The other oaks get lightly thinned so they can spread out their arms. Luis is floating up and down the Cork Oak, his artistic eye and skill shaping beauty and delight. She is now the star. On the last day, I get a big expensive black “sun-kissed” watermelon, despite being a little early in the season, hoping for a really good one. Yes, it is – juicy & sweet – appreciated and enjoyed by all. At the very end, I ask Demetrio if he could help putting my swing on the lower oak for extra compensation. He takes 15 minutes for an improvised version that will do for now :) 

 

All beings – plant human mineral animal – are constantly transformed by life. Being alive is astonishing, and unpredictable. There is danger, hardship, cruelty, loss, violence, injustice. And there is beauty, kindness, and gratitude, just around the corner. We might dread change, like I did with losing this old Coast Live Oak, but when awake, the promising potential of transformation becomes palpable. Life’s gift to us. Like in a churning cloud, our fears, ideas, resistances are tumbled and turned. No promise of permanence. Inevitably we are shape-shifted. In light of her own transformation, Mama Oak said to me: “You can do this.”  I chose to say yes. Immanent, she leaves me on an open road, my destiny wide open…  

She leaves me gifts unimagined…. and some yet unknown…