Last evening I wandered up my local hill in the still golden light of a windless night. Evenings like this need to be savoured in the capital of breezes. I have a favourite spot to sit by an abandoned gun emplacement from a previous era. Wild plants patiently burrow through the concrete. There’s a grassy patch to sit in the retreating sunbeams. I enjoy being immersed in the landscape here. In the distance, the Kaikoura mountains peek over the water, framed by Wellington’s hills rippling into the sea.
I didn’t arrive at my usual spot last night. Another couple had already settled there and I didn’t want to disturb them. Standing nearby, slightly disappointed that my cherished spot was taken, I wondered where to wander. Then I noticed a nobbly pine tree bathed in light on the other side of the hill. I liked the look of its gangly limbs. Curious, I headed in that direction.
En route I met an old man with a dog who’d been chasing rabbits (the dog, that is). He sat there with great contentment (the man and the dog). We swapped some words. The man said with a twinkle that “life’s really amazing sometimes.” I smiled and said “it sure is.” Then I continued on my way.
There wasn’t a clear path to the tree so I started to make one. I bush-bashed through thorny gorse, enjoying the simple delight of darting and weaving through weeds. Then I stumbled on a trodden path. Following its curves around the hill, I soon met a small handmade sign with “Pine Tree” and an arrow painted on it. A few minutes later I reached the tree.
I smiled. This pine had received some special attention. There was a tree house hiding in his limbs. Some of his relatives had been fashioned into planks and nailed into place. Without further ado I pulled myself up and manoeuvred through a series of small platforms.
As I perched near the top of the tree, looking at the sea through the flickering light, I felt incredibly grateful. Life’s been really challenging recently. This magical moment was a welcome gift.
Making metaphors
A story came to me as I sat in this tree. This short walk represented a lot about life for me over the last few months. I’m in a liminal space (i.e. a period of transition). All my paid work has dried up. My savings are draining. I’ve tried heading in familiar directions. I’m not meeting with success. I’ve been standing on a threshold—letting my gaze wander over the horizon for more places to explore.
I’m trying to stay as open as possible during this challenging phase. I’m looking at lots of options. I’m keeping my attention on where I really want to go. I’m not getting distracted or feeling limited by where I’ve been before.
In the landscapes of my mind I’m already moving in a different direction. There’s an image growing like that tree. I don’t know how to get there, or even if I can. I’m just making a path one step at a time.
It feels like I’m bush-bashing right now. I’m travelling through some rough spots, going up and down. I’m following my curiosity and making lots of changes.
I’m starting to find some openings too. I’d really love to find a little sign with an arrow on it soon. I wish that life had more clear pointers like this (or at least that I could see them). In the meantime I’m staying active and attentive. I’m accepting the uncertainty—knowing that not-knowing is needed to learn something new. And I’m remembering that life’s really amazing. Sometimes it’s just not what we thought it would be.
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thanks nick; as ever, i really want to salute you for the depth of your reflection and insights. i especially liked your analogy of bush bashing, and the sense of surrendering to the uncertainty whilst staying active and attentive.
as (another) one who has just been through a similar period of waiting through the unknown with just a trusting that the next steps on the path will unfold … i salute your courage in being willing to step into the uncomfortableness.
best wishes; and i look forward to the next part when it emerges!