Whether you are still at school, at the start of your career or maybe just dissatisfied with where you currently are professionally, it helps to think of life as a journey that does not have to be clearly mapped out or make sense from the outset. What is important is what you learn from each station and the decisions you make or even revise along the way.
The following is a recount of my personal journey to where I am today. You will see there is a reason that my Instagram and Facebook profile names contain the word “Lebenswege”, which is German for “life journey”.
I am never going to be a teacher
When I graduated from school in 1992, the guide at the jobcenter advised me to choose chemistry as a profession. My long term goal was to “do something about our environmental problems”, but he told me that this way I would get a “broader horizon”.
So I went to study chemistry at the Carl-von-Ossietzky-University of Oldenburg and loved everything about it. Back then, I met my former chemistry school teacher and solemnly vowed to him that I would never, ever become a teacher 😉
Being a researcher is not what I had in mind
My Diplom thesis was about heavy metals in soils and I spent the time researching for it at the agricultural campus of the University of Nottingham. Before that, I had spent three months on an Erasmus exchange in Derby, where I had fallen in love with Great Britain, the language, the culture and the people.
For my graduate studies, I enrolled at King’s College, London in 1998. There, as part of my PhD thesis, I looked into hydrates and wax crystals which form in natural gas and crude oil pipelines. Even though I still enjoyed life in England, in 2002 I decided to move back to Germany to be closer to my family again.
I spent two years at the University of Potsdam as a post-doc working on sensors for measuring protein C in blood. Soon I realised that the expectations within the academic system were for me to spout buzzwords and make noise to rake in grant money. This was completely add odds with my personality. The thing I enjoyed most was teaching students and supervising their laboratory classes, which should have given me a hint or two. My overall dissatisfaction with my life as a researcher soon led me to leave this job.
Looks like I am going to be a teacher after all
After moving to Brunsbüttel, another on of my great loves, I started remotely studying “applied environmental sciences” at the University of Koblenz, cut short when I saw an ad by the Schleswig-Holstein Ministry of Education for lateral entrants into teaching at schools here.
From 2005 to 2007 I did teacher training in Glinde. Afterwards, I worked at schools in Dithmarschen. I found that (contrary to my promise to my former teacher years ago) teaching was exactly my thing, as was the extra training as a reading coach. However, the bureaucracy and restrictions on how I was to do my job were not. Eventually, it was time for another reorientation.
Coaching as an extension of my repertoire
From 2012 to 2014 (parallel to my teaching at schools), I did training in systemic coaching with Conzendo. This course was transformative. For the first time in my life, I failed an exam at the first try. At the same time, I experienced the joy of accompanying people through tricky processes. My plan back then was to terminate my teaching contract and just do professional coaching.
Eventually finding my place
What actually transpired, was that since 2014 I have been self-employed as a professional teacher and tutor, cooperating with the adult education center in Brunsbüttel, the tutoring institute “Studienkreis” (for the Elmshorn, Quickborn und Krupunder branches) and the Lerncoaches in Halstenbek.
Currently, I am close to finishing the Danish course and enjoy brushing up my French on Duolingo. I am looking forward to all the new knowledge and expertise I am going to pick up in the coming years. It very much looks like I myself will never be done learning.
Conclusions from my journey
My journey did not exactly take me where I had set out to be. Looking back, I could not be happier and all the stations on my way were transformative stepping stones. I took valuable lessons from being a researcher, a school teacher and a coach, as well as a lifelong avid learner myself. Now, I get to accompany and support others through their learning processes and exams.
If you are not sure about what you want to do five years from now or are confused about if you chose the right path, I am here to tell you a few things from my experiences:
Nobody has to have it all sorted from the start. You are allowed to make adjustments along the way.
You don’t have to let certificates or diplomas dictate what you do for a living.
If you feel sad on a Sunday, and celebrate each Friday, take stock and see what you can change.
Nobody is irreplaceable. You don’t have to stay in a position just to “not let the team down”.
When you find the place you are meant to be, you will know. You will do your work with a smile on your face.
I wish you (and everybody else) that you may find this special place in life where you can do what you love and what you are excellent at for people who appreciate you. That you find this place sooner rather than later but also that your journey to this place may be educational and amazing.
What about you? Was your career also far from a straight line? Did you also pick up many different lessons to combine them in your very own special toolbox?
Eto pulled the door shut and made her way through her family’s backyard. She left through the gate and took off into the forest.
She waited underneath the tree they had climbed up so often through the years. They would probably not have the time to meet like this for much longer, now that they had graduated from school. Time to be adults now. She rolled her eyes. Still, the air was warm and fragrant, and there were birds chirping all around this wild piece of land.
When Adu arrived, she was out of breath from running. “Sorry, dinner took longer than usual. Ato is home for a visit, so we had to listen to his long winded stories about some financial success or other before we even started eating.”
Eto laughed and pulled down the rope ladder. “I am glad my first sibling lives far enough away. I am sure Eki’s stories are even more tedious.”
They went up the trunk and settled on the roof of the treehouse they had built together. There they reclined to observe the dark blue sky turning a deep purple and to listen to the insects’ song.
Adu stretched lazily. “I am glad my parents never found out about this. ‘Nothing good comes from up there! Keep your head where things are real and your eyes forward on your task!’ If they knew, they would explode!”
Nobody knew where this tradition had come from, but it was the way things were. Stay on the ground where things were solid. Be realistic and do your duty. Even the treehouse was pushing it, and Adu had not been easy to convince that it was a good idea.
When it was so dark that they could hardly see each other anymore, Adu took a small lantern from inside the folds of her jacket and lit it. She laughed: “So like you to forget to bring a light! By the way, my parents want me to join the order. They did not tell me in so many words, but I just know that’s what they want. You know?”
Eto sighed. “I know. My parents are the same. They have been on about how it would be a great honour for the family.”
“It would be an honour for you and me too, I guess. Perhaps we should tell the recruitment cleric that we have been friends for years, so we would love to stay together when we join?”
Eto sat up, frowning. “Don’t you mean ‘if we join’? I am not sure it’s right for me. And not only because of the robes clashing with my complexion.” Her grin fell when she saw Adu’s face.
“You know, I think it’s time to be real, Eto. I didn’t get grades as good as yours, and being a member of the order helps in getting a respected place in society. Besides, you are a second, just as I am. It’s kind of trad-”
“Don’t remind me. It really does suck to be second. Eki was allowed to even leave town, what about my choices?” With her long, grey arms, Eto gestured back towards the lights of their little town. “Is this all there is going to be in life for me?”
“Why does there have to be more? I mean, it was fun, when we were kids, but we aren’t any more. And I can’t see myself joining without you. Please, just this once, can’t we do something I want?”
“You just said it yourself, you don’t actually want it. You just follow along! And you want me to follow along with you? So I have to chant all day and make others obey stupid rules? I thought we were friends!”
Adu’s voice rose in pitch as well as volume: “So did I! So what if just this once I decide to go along with tradition and my parents’ wishes? We are not the only ones on this planet! There is something like contributing to community! Also, we have been waiting here for long enough now, and honestly? I kind of agree with my parents: If you ask me, nothing will come from up there, good or otherwise! Take a good, honest look up there, even the last remaining bright spots have long disappeared from the night sky! So maybe we should stop waiting and start joining everybody else and just live?”
They scowled at each other until Adu grabbed her lantern and went to climb down the ladder. Eto scrambled after her.
While she ran after Adu, she called out, “Wait! I am sorry! Come on, wait for me!”
Adu stopped but did not turn around, her shoulders drooping. In a very small voice she said, “I have always looked up to you. But I am not like you, Ets, I am not that good with opposition.” She turned around at last, her purple eyes shining with tears.
“Perhaps we can talk about this tomorrow? Let’s just enjoy school being over tonight, okay?”
They hugged and Adu whispered against Eto’s shoulder, “Okay. For the record, watching the sky with you definitely wasn’t a waste of time.”
Eto sent one more longing glance upwards, only to find that the last remaining bright spot had, in fact, not disappeared. She blinked twice, then elbowed Adu and pointed up: “You see that too, right?” Adu actually took a look and nodded wide-eyed.
“What? How? It went dark ages ago!”
Eto’s face lit up “This can’t be the last bright spot. It’s in a totally different place. This is something new! Erm, wait… Is it just me or is it getting bigger?”
They watched with open mouths as the previously tiny point of light grew into a fiery streak across the sky. Soon they could hear it screeching downward, louder and louder, until it hit the ground behind the ridge in an explosion of blue dust and white flames.
The two of them stood very still, then looked at each other. They started walking at the same time. In the light of the lantern, they made their way through the undergrowth and up the incline to reach the crash site. There they found a heap of hot metal shards and bent rods with little boxes still halfway attached to them. A gleaming yellowish rectangle lay on the crater’s rim.
They walked closer taking small steps. Even though it had been warped a bit upon impact, the markings on the rectangle could clearly be seen: To the left a couple of lines intersecting in one spot, to the right two strange bipedal beings, one of them lifting their right arm. At the bottom was a row of circles, one of them big and nine smaller ones. An arrow connected the fourth circle from the left with something that looked like an image of this thing that had fallen from the sky.
Eto knelt down and traced the alien images with her long fingers hovering above the plate. She was quiet for a while, then glanced up at her friend, a new sparkle in her eyes, and asked: “So what do you say now? What should we do with the rest of our lives?”
Did you like this story? You will find more in my blog!
This is the last post in my series about activities for the eight holidays throughout the wheel of the year. We are now at the winter solstice.
Almost exactly two years ago, I wrote a blog post about the winter solstice on the 21st of December. There are a few traditional threads that weave through it all:
Christmas/Yule of course, the Christian holiday as well as the feast of giving gifts and being cosy
the beginning of winter
the return of the light in the darkest of days
Nature‘s hibernation
on its shadow side kitsch, commercialism and for some a heightened sense of being lonely
My thoughts about this day crystallised into the following main themes: Optimism, withdrawal, regeneration but also community and agency or self-efficacy.
In the following paragraphs you will find suggestions that may help you experience these themes more tangibly, also some descriptions of my own activities and experiences. I will keep adding new thoughts and ideas in the future.
You can find another perspective and additional insights into this time of year in last year‘s podcast episode of The Wonder about the winter solstice.
Venturing outside
These days, it gets dark quite early in the afternoon and the Northern German winter does not exactly seduce you to step outside your door. The autumn winds have taken most of the leaves from the trees in my region and lately it was surprisingly cold so that everything got a good freezing through. There have not been large amounts of snow worth mentioning.
Currently, the hedges are see-through and the fields are asleep under a blanket of snow. The light is just magical and it’s almost time to go iceskating.
Close by, there are many sloes and initially I had planned to pick some after the first short frosty periods in November. On one of my walking rounds at the beginning of December I realised however, that the bushes had been all but completely emptied. Either someone had felt even more peckish for some sloe jam than I was, or the animals had eaten them. Seeing as I have a good number of jars of rosehip jam in my pantry, I feel generous about the sloes. Next year I will observe them a bit more carefully to find out what happens to them. Funnily enough, there are still many wild rosehips glowing dark red in the hedges.
There is just enough snow to leave hearts on car window. Meanwhile, the sun illuminating the last remaining three sloes disappears around 4pm.
What does your neighbourhood look like at the moment? Do you have snow? Do you also notice how 5pm masquerades as deep night? Which fruit still cling to the branches in your area?
Gardening in the winter
You can find advice on gardening in December here and here. Of course, what will flourish and when you have to do certain tasks depends on the region you live in.
The following is an inspiration for next year: There is a German tradition of cutting a few branches off fruit trees on the 4th of December and putting them in a vase inside your home. These so-called Barbara branches will then be in bloom around Christmas and thus be an ideal representation of hope for the return of Spring.
My neighbours’ maple tree, a squirrel trail on my patio, the bird feeding station and my current view from the front door.
I did not get around to do much in my own garden the last few weeks and then the cold came. I really hope that the barrels that were still holding rain water are going to survive the expansion of the ice. After this very dry summer I was so happy to be able to collect a good amount of water and later forgot or maybe did not have the heart to tip it out.
A lot of the old brownish plant bits are still left standing also because I heard this helps the animals. Next year I want to rethink and sort out what kind of winterproofing I want for my garden. And for myself.
One of the few activities still going on is serving seeds for the birds and squirrels. And marveling at the beauty of the holly bush in my front yard. It was planted by the family who lived here before us and it so wonderfully fits the season. We also took a few clippings for our Advent wreath.
There are still some rosehips left in my garden and the ilex is even more beautiful with a little hoarfrost on. I hope the rainwater barrels will survive. This year, I decided not to cut the hydrangeas.
Between the solstice and New Year’s Day I will sit down and plan a bit ahead which vegetables I want to give another chance and dream about how I am going to integrate steps into the inclined bit of lawn that connects the patio and the actual garden. Also I want to decide on a border that will help me keep the slugs and snails at bay. Apart from that I can foresee a session with a little fire in the brazier and that is going to be it for my garden in 2022.
What is the current state of your garden, balcony or windowsill? How have you winterproofed your garden? Which plans for next year’s planting are slumbering away in the back of your mind?
Meditating in the winter
Apart from my own meditation there is a broad variety of other choices to be found online, covering different styles and durations. I would suggest the search terms “winter solstice“ or “yule“ in combination with “meditation“. There are also yoga flows suited for the occasion, especially relaxing flows or just repeating Surya Namaskar until you feel satisfied. Another option would be to create a fitting atmosphere and just quietly meditate on one or more of the themes of the day.
Getting Creative
There is no lack of crafting tutorials for snowmen, Santas, angels or candle arrangements. Maybe for a change you might like to make your own incense cones? There is a recipe here which says that the cones have to dry for a couple of days. But then they don’t have to be lit on the actual day of the solstice. Like the Barbara branches, this is also something to keep in mind for next year.
If I can manage it in time I would like to make a miniature stone circle from salt paste to use in my focus. But that really is all for my crafting this time of year, which really is supposed to be about getting comfortable. So less may be more, especially around Christmas.
I made a mini cardboard easel for my focus which I can present different pictures on throughout the year following these instructions originally meant for making a phone stand. Now I am going to create a new picture to put on the easel to focus on during the following weeks. This is also great for displaying a card for the day.
My mini cardboard easel.
Listening to or making winter music
The current holiday has to be the one with the longest list of music and songs of all genres, vocal or instrumental, traditional or modern. Being a big fan of the season myself, in the beginning of December I start listening to a lot of this music all day long. It amazes me to see how many versions there are of all the old and new Christmas songs.
I will list mainly pieces that offer a different perspective or are more about winter and darkness rather than “traditional” Christmas lore.
We will start with winter set to music by Vivaldi, Haydn and Glasunov. All three of them express their own personal relationship with winter, the freezing processes in nature and the festive season. Fanny Mendelssohn Hensel composed a series of pieces one for each month of the year. Her “December” evokes images of someone walking through a blizzard and then enterin a safe and warm building where variations of a Christmas song are played. On my search for fitting music I came across an exciting instrumental album by Miguel Berkemeier called “Music for Yule – Winter Solstice songs“. He mixes modern, classical and archaic style elements and borrows from traditions from a range of European regions.
Metal never disappoints, so you can find a large number of cover versions of Christmas songs, much to my personal delight. The band August Burns Red are not the only one to have put together a dedicated Christmas album. It includes covers but also original pieces like “Flurries”. This instrumental is about a child who unwraps presents and discovers that one of them is a sled. The child then goes outside for a wild sledding session in the snow. Swansong also offer a composition of their own: With majestic riffs and impressive camera flights across a beach and a snow covered forest, “Winter Maiden” tells us about some kind of Snow Queen ruling over her frosty land in a coastal area without ever aging herself.
In my actual collection of old school CDs I also have one by Loreena McKennitt and one by the Medieval Babes. Here are two songs I picked out as examples: “Good King Wenceslas” and “Carol of the Bells.”
There are many popsongs about darkness and winter. “Sounds of Silence“ Simon & Garfunkel is actually about offering resistance under adverse conditions and about trying to overcome the separation between humans.
And in the naked light I saw
Ten thousand people, maybe more
People talking without speaking
People hearing without listening
People writing songs that voices never share
And no one dared
Disturb the sound of silence
Simon and Garfunkel, Sound of Silence
To me this fits the subjects of community and agency. In times of darkness and cold, the best we can do is to take care of each other and stay connected.
“Winter“ by Tori Amos connects wintery acoustics with the topic of how the relationship with her father keeps her warm on the inside but does not save her from growing old and after many years asking herself where all the time has gone.
I get a little warm in my heart when I think of winter
And even hand in hand sometimes we face the night alone
From our darkness light will grow
Put your ear to her, the night might even whisper up her secret
Gaia Consort, Secret womb of night
Even though this could just as well be said about any night of the year, it seems particularly relevant to the winter solstice. The darkness is the place we retreat to by ourselves to be able to return with new light and new realisations. Sometimes we have to be very quiet to hear what is actually important. On the one hand, the intensity of the song seems to contradict this message. On the other hand, at the same time, maybe it does not. I for one am sitting here with a big grin and goosebumps and looking forward to the longest night.
Reading
If there is one novel jumping up and down in front of me for attention these days, it is “Hogfather” by Terry Pratchett. At the beginning of the year, I also mentioned this book in another context. In Terry’s Discworld, its version of Santa Claus is abducted. Death ends up in the predicament of having to substitute for the Hogfather to ensure that at the moment of sunrise enough people believe in the sun’s returning. The story includes a lot of “HO! HO! HO!”, silly office parties as well as a few sociocritical thoughts about the injustice of how presents are distributed among different people. Eventually, there is a literal life and death race between the Hogfather and his antagonists and in the end most of the people involved have learned major lessons. In 2006 the novel was made into a film, which of course I have on DVD and watch every December as a tradition.
Not all poems that fit the occasion are explicitly about Christmas. I remember reading this first one in school when I was young. The mixture of tiredness and tenacity fascinated me. The narrator considers going to sleep, some would say giving up and dying, but there is a very convincing reason for him pulling back from those thoughts and going back to his everyday life because he has promised to keep going.
Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening
Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.
My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.
He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there is some mistake.
The only other sound’s the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.
The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.
Robert Frost
The second poem manages to lyrically summarise my main thoughts about the winter solstice: The experiences and rituals going back millennia, the warmth of being among fellow humans, the promise and the dreamlike quality of winter:
The Shortest Day
And so the Shortest Day came and the year died
And everywhere down the centuries of the snow-white world
Came people singing, dancing,
To drive the dark away.
They lighted candles in the winter trees;
They hung their homes with evergreen;
They burned beseeching fires all night long
To keep the year alive.
And when the new year’s sunshine blazed awake
They shouted, reveling.
Through all the frosty ages you can hear them
Echoing behind us—listen!
All the long echoes, sing the same delight,
This Shortest Day,
As promise wakens in the sleeping land:
They carol, feast, give thanks,
And dearly love their friends,
And hope for peace.
And now so do we, here, now,
This year and every year.
Welcome, Yule!
Susan Cooper
Asking questions
These are the questions that might be helpful to ask yourself or the oracle of your choice around the winter solstice:
How have you made your home and yourself winterproof?
What gives you hope and what is your own contribution to your hope for brighter times?
What is your hope based in, either within you or outside of you??
Whom do you love to think about?
Whom would you like to give a meaningful gift to?
Which particularly lovely gift did you receive this year?
How can you keep this gift safe?
What do you dream about in this long time of quiet and darkness?
Focussing on your most important findings
I will put together my own focus, gathering all my findings and then add a picture of it here.
What about you?
What are the most meaningful answers to the questions above, the most fitting quotes or poems? Is there a piece of music that you can condense into a word, a phrase or a symbol? Did you find an object outside that deserves to be showcased on your focus?
How can I contribute less to polarising the world?
There are some things that I have “known” intellectually only for a long time. Some of them I have read or heard about and thought: “That makes a lot of sense.” Yet a lot of these things only really take effect on my life when they settle further down in my awareness and click into place on an emotional level. I am not always sure about how this happens and if I have any influence on it. Sometimes this process surprises me very quietly.
What does a “but” really mean?
One such realisation is this: Whenever we say something followed by a but, we cancel what was said before. For example “I am not XY, but…” or “I do like XY, but…” Often we do not actually mean to cancel the XY. In other cases the “but” gives away what we really would have liked to say. Either way, this does not exactly establish a solid relationship or boost an existing one. And our relationships are what communication is ultimately about.
One easily feasible alternative was my takeaway from an interesting talk. Whenever you feel the impulse to say “yes, but”, try saying “yes, and” instead or maybe “yes, at the same time”. This recognises what the other person and I have in common instead of emphasising our differences. Back then, I thought this was very plausible and mentally helpful and planned to use it in conversations just to see what would happen.
Living in polarising times
Then came the pandemic, and it cannot be just me who notices a lot of polarisation and actual as well as apparent contradictions. So many fierce debates, so many relationships in danger of breaking over different world views.
In my coaching training I was deeply affected by a method called the Tetralemma. It is designed to loosen emotional and mental blockages that seem to prevent a decision. Two apparently opposing objects, situations or stances are repeatedly circled around, compared and combined in a way that on a meta level creates a new perspective that excludes neither the one or the other and feels surprisingly relieving.
Sounds like Buddhist philosophy? That’s because it is. Funnily enough, my usual reaction to anything Zen is to not want to invest too much of my time and energy in it. So what? Not this but also not that? And how am I supposed to not do this “Not”? And also not want to not do it? Without not doing nothing? This way of thinking exhausts the cognitive parts of my brain. Which it is meant to and if I do not pay attention for long enough, this method really works 😉
“The Guide says there is an art to flying”, said Ford, “or rather a knack. The knack lies in learning how to throw yourself at the ground and miss.”
Most of us would think it to be an amazing feat to distract the thinking brain effectively for the time it takes to fly past it. Arthur Dent, the novel’s protagonist, actually does learn to fly, even if not intentionally. He misses the ground when he stumbles trying to escape a monster, because at the right moment he is distracted by a piece of luggage he lost at the other end of the galaxy a few years ago.
On the 2nd of February I signed a contract with myself for the coming year 2022. One part of it was the promise to keep an awareness for “yes but” situations in my day-today life and switching the phrase to “at the same time”. In the beginning this was a bit like using training wheels, at the same time the internal effect was fascinating. It is a bit like sliding two transparent images on top of each other. Both images can be clearly discerned and at the same time they add up to something new. They merge and at the same time neither of them dissolves into the other. Both can exist and neither is arbitrary.
Where is this long lost piece of luggage when we need it?
So how can I make such a helpful realisation percolate into deeper layers of my consciousness or even click into place? It seems that one part of the trick might be to be as unintentional as possible, another one of my specialities. At the same time, it helps to practice an attitude that appreciates simultaneousness, as well as has a clear view on where whateverism begins. A view on which opinions and behaviours are outside of what we will accept as respectable.
The clearer we are about our boundaries, the more thoroughly we define and know our own values and positions, the bigger and softer a space we can afford others or also the apparent fractures and contradictions within our own Inner Team. And the more enriching the simultaneousness can be. Since going through the Tetralemma process a few times, both as a coach and a coachee, some aspects of my personality, the ones who are less strictly stuck to the thinking mind, have definitely caught the bug.
And one day I will give the advanced Tetralemma steps a go in those “yes but” situations: “Neither of these” and “not even this”. One day when I am really feeling up to a bit of Zen. Until then, the “at the same time” approach will make my life a lot easier.
What do you think?
What are your experiences with the phrases “yes and” or “yes but”? Have you used the Tetralemma method yet? How do you usually handle real or apparent contradictions? And how do you help realisations trickle down from the cognitive level so they anchor in your emotional consciousness from where they can really affect your life?
The old man looked at the ducks on the lake. “It’s very nice of you to share your bench,” he said.
Paul just nodded. It was a chilly November afternoon but dry and not too windy. He had always liked the park and this spot at the lake.
“Look! Someone from the home has given me grapes. I don’t even like those. See here, they cut them in half. Whole or halved, what difference does it make? These people are so odd.”
“Why don’t you give those to the ducks? Apparently grapes are good for them.” Paul remembered coming here as a little boy to feed the ducks pieces of bread. Things definitely had changed since then and you weren’t allowed to get rid of your stale bread like that anymore.
The old man stared at the container, then threw one piece at the birds. This caused a bit of a fight among them. “Huh, seems like you’re right,” he said and threw a few more grapes. Then he sighed.
“I wish my son would come and visit me. We could sit here together, him and me. Talking about the old days.”
“Sounds like you had some great old days together.” Paul smiled.
“They weren’t all bad. Mind you, we had your misunderstandings. Words were had.”
“Did you mean them?”
“I don’t actually remember. Maybe I did at the time? I really wish he was here. The people in the home tell me he comes to see me all the time but I just don’t know. Maybe they have him mixed up with someone else? Look at the grapes they gave me and I don’t even like grapes. You look like him a little.”
Paul could still hear his father’s angry voice. That had been so long ago and they both were very different people now. Those fights about really irrelevant little things were just so much water under the bridge now. He leaned against the back of the bench, watching the ducks who were still squabbling over the last bits of fruit.
“You were right, they really do seem to like grapes, don’t they? My son would’ve known, too, he’s clever like that. You remind me of him a bit, but I think he’s a bit taller than you.”
“So what has your week been like? Were the nurses nice to you?”
The old man’s face lit up. “They really were! We played Snakes and Ladders and the red haired nurse let me win!”
He went on to talk about his amazing board game victory while Paul listened to him.
The story had just about fizzled to an end when Paul’s phone rang in his pocket. After a quick look at the screen, he turned towards the man on the bench next to him. “Would you believe it, it’s 4pm already. Let’s go, it’s time for you to get some cake at the retirement home, I heard there’s going to be lemon drizzle today. Isn’t that your favourite, dad?”
There was a parcel on the doorstep when Helen came home. She bent down to pick it up and figured that the postman had misread the address. Theirs was number 13 and this package was supposed to go to whoever lived at number 31. Well, great.
She went inside to drop her bag and check the answerphone then left again, the box under her arm. It was heavy for its size and made a sloshing noise as she walked. It also gave off an unpleasant smell that reminded her of a hospital. Or, strangely, her compost heap. People ordered the weirdest things online these days.
Three quarters down their cul-de-sac, Helen’s stomach sank as she realised the proper owner of the package. She slowed down her steps and wondered if she should just put it down at the gate and hope for the best. Instead, she took a deep breath, ignored the goosebumps and said to herself “Oh, don’t be silly! What do you think is going to happen?”
She walked the last steps to the gate at the dead end of the road and up the path to the old house everybody avoided. Warm amber light shone from all its windows. Rose bushes bloomed abundantly in the crisp November air while soft smoke curled up from the crooked chimney. It all looked so cozy that Helen wondered if her neighbours had got it all wrong.
There was no doorbell so Helen was just going to knock. But before her hand connected with the door, it opened and a wrinkly face and pale blue eyes appeared.
“Mrs. Gray, this has been left at my door by mistake. So I thought I’d give it to you myself.”
The old woman had the wispiest white hair that tried hard to escape the bun at her neck. This seemed at odds with the blue jeans and dark purple hoodie she was wearing. Mrs. Gray beamed at Helen: “Oh, that is just so lovely of you! I bet it is quite heavy too. Won’t you come inside and have a cup of tea? The kettle has just boiled and these days so few people come to visit me.”
“Um,” was all Helen could come up with. She had mainly wanted to get rid of the package. “I don’t know. To be honest, I think I should go home and get started on dinner.”
“Come one, just the one cup! It would help me so much if you could carry the box inside, too. I have been waiting for it to arrive since the day before yesterday. I hope it is still alright anyway”
“What is it anyway?” Helen asked and then remembered. Whatever it was, it had probably gone off, judging by the smell. She cringed and hoped Mrs. Gray would not notice anything before Helen had left.
“Ah, you know,” Mrs. Gray flapped her hands. “Stuff. Hobby related ingredients.” She opened the door more widely and grinned waggling her dainty white eyebrows. “There may even be cake. And please, call me Edith.”
By now, the parcel felt like a stone in Helen’s arms, so she shrugged. “Alright, but I don’t need any cake. Or tea. Just show me where you want me to put this and I will be out of your hair in a minute.”
Edith led the way inside. The corridor was much darker than the brightly lit windows had promised. The lack of light may have been the reason why it also felt longer than it realistically should have been. There was an open door to the left, which Edith slammed shut before Helen could even think of peeking through. They entered a room via another door straight ahead. There was a table on which Helen dropped the box. She tried to cover the sloshing sound with a groan of relief.
“So what would you like? How about trying my own homemade herbal infusion mix?” Edith bustled away in the direction of what seemed to be the kitchen. “Make yourself comfortable on the sofa!”
“I really can’t stay, so there is no need at all for you to go to any trouble!” Helen called after Edith. She rolled her eyes, stared at the ceiling for a bit and then went over to try and sit on the sofa. The two tabby cats and the brown animal that looked a bit like a lizard presented a bit of a problem. Helen did not mind pets usually. These three, however, did not bother to hide their displeasure at having a visitor in their territory. The lizard stared even harder than the cats.
“Oh, you cheeky little rascals, let the nice lady sit!” Edith shooed her pets to the left, so she and Helen could squeeze onto the newly liberated part of the sofa. She pushed a chipped mug at Helen who sniffed its steaming brown contents gingerly.
“So, when did you two move here? I remember when all the area was forest, before the street was paved and the properties developed. Back then my house did not even need a number.”
“A couple of years ago,” Helen said, her eyes scanning the room for somewhere she could place the mug without having to lean over too obviously.
“It’s good to see you are not superstitious about your own number. Quite a few people did not want to move in at number 13.”
“Oh no, neither of us believes in that kind of nonsense,” Helen laughed. Out of the corner of her right eye she noticed Edith looking at her intensely then quickly breaking into a grin and clapping her hands.
“Well, it is a good thing that you came here to deliver the missing ingredients for my latest experiments. I had run out a while ago but now I can get back to work at last. So thank you very much again!”
Edith stood up and walked to the table, fishing a big knife out of the front pocket on her hoodie. She used it to cut along the side of the box which released a cloud of greenish vapour. At the same time the cats crept back up towards Helen, hissing. The lizard seemed to have materialised on the back of the sofa directly behind Helen’s neck. When its tongue shot out to touch her skin, Helen jumped up.
“I really, really have to go, I am sorry Mrs. Gray!”
“You haven’t even touched your tea, Helen! How am I supposed to-”
Helen felt a cold creep up her spine. She pushed past Mrs Gray who put up a surprising amount of fight and hurried through the long dark corridor. Helen heard Mrs. Gray tumble to the floor and at the same time something small scurrying after her.
At the gate she stopped to catch her breath and look back at the old house. It was completely dark and half covered in ivy, some of its windows broken. In the light from the street lamps she saw that the bushes on the front lawn had totally wilted away.
Helen stared in disbelief for a while, then decided she did not want to know after all, and ran all the way home.
How to refill your batteries at the beginning of summer
This is my summer solstice post in my series about activities for the eight holidays throughout the wheel of the year. We are now at the beginning of summer.
Almost exactly two years ago, I wrote a blog post about the 21st of June. There are a few traditional threads that weave through it all:
the Summer Solstice
the beginning of summer and the holidays
St. John‘s Eve and the end of asparagus season
My thoughts about this day crystallised into the following main themes: How things are valued even more due to their transience, the importance of resting for gathering strength for less plentiful days, enjoying the current abundance around us, trusting in natural processes and preserving your harvest in time.
In the following paragraphs you will find suggestions that may help you experience these themes more tangibly, also some descriptions of my own activities and experiences. I will keep adding new thoughts and ideas in the future.
You can find another perspective and additional insights into this time of year in the recent podcast episode The Wonder.
Venturing outside
If it was up to me, the temperatures would be a bit lower in general. At the moment, even my cat seems to just melt into the floor tiles most of the day, even though we llive in the North of Germany. Apart from that, I am amazed (like I am every year) by how light it is outside at 5 am as well as at 11 pm. Some astronomical info on the side: The earliest sunrise of the year does not happen at the solstice but a couple of days earlier, depending on your latitude. I made a graph for surise and sunset times around the winter solstice. For the summer it should look very similar, just the other way around.
In some areas the grass is more than a yard high and some roses look like waterfalls tumbling overfences and walls or down some trees. Other plants climb up with a vengeance like wild hops, while the honeysuckle blossoms are getting ready for their great performance .
Gone is the tenderness of may. Instead, I am faced with an abundance of leaves, fruit and flowers in my region. The main colour impression is green with a couple of multicoloured dots sprinkled in between. In my area roses are a very traditional plant to grow but also the elder trees are still blooming in bright white. There is hardly any stretch of path where I cannot smell them. The lime tree flowers on the other hand, are just about to open in a few days and release their fragrance when the elderflowers have faded.
Everywhere there are colourful accents. Some meadows have already been mown.
What does your neighbourhood look like at the moment? Which flowers can you see especially abundantly? What can you smell in nature around you? Are there as many butterflies around you seemingly soaking up every ray of sunshine they can get?
Gardening
In my garden several plants were no match for the army of slugs. Almost all of my sunflowers and all the courgette and pumpkin plants. Those that have made it this far now thrive more or less without depending on my intervention. I planted peas again, severely underestimating the way they stretch sideways when they do not turn out as pathetic as mine did in 2021. I am very much in love with how they fill one of my raised beds and produce blossoms and pods that thicken daily.
Roses, peas and as of yet unidetified flowers in my garden. I am very happy to ahve some well shaded areas to sit in, relax and watch.
In the same way that the time of illumination increases, the trees in my area (known for its tree nurseries) offer highly welcome shade. I am very grateful for the shaded corners in my own garden, being more of an autumn fan myself.
Two years ago I planted some climbing strawberries which are still a bit on the puny side. The wild strawberries, on the other hand, run rampant all across my garden without me having to do anything. Actually, me not doing much in the way of “weed“ removal was exactly what helped these little friendly presents of nature to flourish.
The manual that came with them told me I have to wait one more year before I can harvest the first asparagus. They still have to develop and gather strength to be able to withstand someone cutting pieces off them. The little trees they grow into are fascinating and beautiful to look at, as are the little shiny green berries. Another instance of non-intervention leading to an opportunity to observe something I had not seen before.
Last year I had bought some watering bulbs, this year I added two clay jugs that are inserted into the soil and some clay tips for bottles to also poke into the ground to provide your vegetables with water more evenly. So this year I have to spend even less time worrying about those plants I am most emotionally invested in. On top of that the content of my rain barrel lasts longer.
Before planting apsparagus I had no idea there would be gree berries. The tomatoes live in the grow box this year, because they were a bit cold outside last year. In contrast, the hydrangea seems to be very happy with the overall situation.
You can find advice on gardening in June here and here. Of course what will flourish and when you have to do certain tasks depends on the region you live in.
What is the current state of your garden, balcony or windowsill? What grows without you having to do anything or maybe even because of your non-action?
Meditating
Apart from my own meditation there is a broad variety of other choices to be found online, covering different styles and durations. I would suggest the search terms “Summer solstice“, “gathering strength“ or “regeneration“ in combination with “meditation“. There are also yoga flows suited for the occasion, especially yin yoga flows. Another option would be to create a fitting atmosphere and just quietly meditate on one or more of the themes of the day.
Getting creative
To anchor the theme of the season in my mind I searched for a way to craft a miniature hammock. I ended up using this pattern, which I modified a bit in the second row. If you are interested in how and why I made one less loop at the end, let me know. Another tutorial shows you how to create a cash gift in the shape of a tiny hammock. This could easily be done with just a colourful piece of paper if you are not keen on putting a note on your focus. The description is in German but the photos are pretty self explanatory.
Traditionally, the summer solstice is another great opportunity to crowns made from flowers. It‘s especially nice for kids, maybe this time of year the colours can be a bit more vibrant than for the 1st of May. The main thing is to enjoy the opulence of the season. Instead of paper flowers, I decided to crochet some roses to place on my own focus.
I made a mini cardboard easel for my focus which I can present different pictures on throughout the year following these instructions originally meant for making a phone stand. Now I am going to create a new picture to put on the easel to focus on during the following weeks.
Mini cardboard easel.
Food and drink
If there is one thing I associate with Summer solstice, it is a last meal of asparagus, strawberries and sirup made with elderflowers.
Last year I learned how to make an elderflower champagne via fermentation. Here is a similar recipe to the one I am using. If the elder trees near you are still blooming, here is a list of recipes you might like to try. Just remember to pick only what you need and leave some flowers so there will be berries for the animals later in the year.
The flowers were allowed to relax for a day and a half in this pickle jar.
Listening to or making music
In her cycle through the year, Fanny Mendelssohn also composed a piece about June. Listening to it makes me think about sitting in the shade in my garden and watching the butterflies dance through the flowers. In comparison, the Prélude à l’après-midi d’un faune by Debussy feels much warmer, a taste of the summer to come.
No list would be complete without a mention of Vivaldi’s Summer. His version and also the one by Glasunov perfectly express the floating feeling of a hot summer afternoon. My research also made me come across “Apaisé, boisé” by Camille Pépin, a contemporary piece that transports me into a very summery forest with very old trees.
As with the subject of love for the 1st of May, pop music offers a large variety of songs about summer. One of my favourites is “Zu heiß” by Farin Urlaub, a German ode to just lounging around instead of joining any reolution anytime soon, because it is just to hot to rebel. We can postpone any kind of street fight until maybe autumn, right?
When I was a child in the 702 my father used to play his already dated records. One of them contained “Summer in the City” by The Lovin‘ Spoonful, a song deeply embedded in my oldest memories. Their good news is: „Despite the heat it will be alright.“ We just have to wait with any partying activites until the late evening when the temperatures have dropped a bit.
I did not come up with any proper Metal songs about summer, but there is always “School’s out” by Alice Cooper celebrating the weeks of freedom lying ahead and also Type O Negative’s not exactly refreshing but still enjoyable “Summer Breeze”.
Finally you could join Lisa Thiel or the Latvian group Tautumeitas in honoring the annual return of the summer sun.
Reading
The following poem by John Updike captures how we felt as children, when the long weeks of summer holidays were before us, promising sunshine, carefree hours of playing outside and just being able to live in the moment.
June
The sun is rich
And gladly pays
In golden hours,
Silver days,
And long green weeks
That never end.
School’s out.
The time Is ours to spend.
There’s Little League,
Hopscotch, the creek,
And, after supper,
Hide-and-seek.
The live-long light
Is like a dream,
and freckles come
Like flies to cream.
John Updike
There is an endless list of summer novels old and new. One book that I will add to my “to read“ list is “How to do nothing“ by Jenny Odell. In it she says:
“Our very idea of productivity is premised on the idea of producing something new, whereas we do not tend to see maintenance and care as productive in the same way.”
Jenny Odell
There are other similar books out there about how we can learn to cut back from the high level of activity we have grown accustomed to. Also I have seen some fun looking childrens’ books on the same subject.
Two stories I just have to mention are Shakespeare’s “Midsummer Night’s Dream” as well as Terry Prattchett’s “Lords and Ladies”, the latter being very obviously based on the former classical comedy. Both of them feature a royal wedding, a group of craftsmen doing their very best to put together a play for the wedding entertainment and the activities of the elves threatening to bring even more chaos into the situation.
Asking questions
These are the questions that might be helpful to ask yourself or the oracle of your choice:
What is growing in your life without you having to do anything?
What in your life actually profits from you not intervening?
How does not being able to keep hold of the moment help you enjoy it even more fully?
How can you integrate regular times for restoration into your schedule?
What does your conscience say about intentionally doing nothing?
Focussing on your most important findings
I have put together my own focus gathering all my findings:
My focus from the 21st of June until the 1st of August.
What about you?
What are the most meaningful answers to the questions above, the most fitting quotes or poems? Is there a piece of music that you can condense into a word, a phrase or a symbol? Did you find an object outside that deserves to be showcased on your focus?
The next holiday is going to be the 1st of August. Shortly before that date, I will blog about it and add all the link to the two mainposts.
Do you have a tradition for the Summer solstice on the 21st of June? What do you like to eat at the moment? Which fruit and vegetables are currently in season where you live? How does the concept of transience help you enjoy life even more intensely? Do you allow yourself the amount of rest that you need? How do you feel about rest and enjoyment without a guilty conscience?
‘I keep telling you, you have got all this totally wrong!’ Paul can hear Helen shouting through the open front door. He rushes in and there she is, paler than usual and face to face with a man Paul has never seen before.
The man wears a suit made from matte midnight blue material. He also wears an earpiece and black sunglasses. He leans forward into Helen’s personal space which does not seem to impress her or make her move away from him.
‘Is there anything wrong?’ Paul asks. It takes both Helen and the visitor a few seconds to look away from each other.
‘This only concerns your wife’, the man says, making air quotes around the last word. ‘I am only here for a couple of questions. Depending on your cooperation we will decide on the next steps.’
Paul feels a cold shiver creeping up his neck. ‘Wait, cooperation with what? What steps? And who is we? Helen, what is going on here? Do you know this person?’
Helen crosses her arms, staring at the man in the suit. ‘No idea. I have never met him in my life, he just turned up here and wants me to agree to this totally ludicrous story he made up about me.’
Paul is impressed by how she manages to look imposing even in her soft greyish tracksuit with her sandy brown hair in a messy bun. Still, the strange man does not seem too intimidated.
‘Mr Taylor, what do you know about your wife’s family? About her childhood?’
‘What does that have to do with anything?’ Paul responds at the same time as Helen’s face loses the last bit of colour. ‘She didn’t have any family left when we met but so what? Who goes around calling on people who have lost their parents? Who are you and on whose authority are you here anyway?’ Paul can hear his voice going up both in volume and in register.
The man pulls an identity card out of his pocket and holds it up for Paul to inspect, but really only long enough for him to catch the name J. Hunter. ‘I have already identified myself to Mrs. Taylor here. She should have known better than to drag this out for so long. You needn’t have witnessed any of this.’
Mr. Hunter takes a small folder from inside his jacket. It opens to reveal photos of a girl with braids the same brown as Helen’s hair and eyes the same bright blue. ‘You remember this, ‘Mrs. Taylor’?’ The man manages to enunciate the quotes now that his hands are busy holding the evidence. ‘We have spent decades to find you, I have to give you that. But then your kind has always been good at vanishing in plain sight, hasn’t it?’
‘Okay, what do you suggest is my kind?’ Helen growls, even though Paul can see she has taken a step further back.
‘Mr. Taylor, the person you think of as Mrs. Helen Taylor is, unfortunately, a completely different person. A different being, to be precise.’
Paul reaches out for Helen and she grabs onto his hand hard. He can feel how cold her own hand is and smaller than he remembers it. They look into each other’s eyes.
‘Whatever you are suggesting, Mr. Hunter, there is nothing wrong with Helen. She does not vanish nor is she a ‘being’. She is my wife and I trust her. She has never done anything wrong for as long as I have known her.’
‘Precisely.’ Mr Hunter stows the folder away again. ‘Let me tell you about Helen Taylor: What you see here is not a human. Not even someone from this planet. This individual was planted here about thirty years ago. Most likely to spy on us, but new intelligence has come up which we are currently working on.’
Paul stares at Helen who seems to have shrunken a couple of inches. He looks at their hands, still clasped together.
‘Have you ever wondered about her parents or when and why they died? Why she does not have any other family?’
‘No, and I don’t care! I see no reason to—’
‘Have you never asked yourself why you two have never had any children?’
‘Bit personal, isn’t it? We agreed that we did not want any, that’s why! We don’t have to justify our private decisions to you! Who do you think you—’
‘Where was your wife born? Have you ever visited any of the places from her childhood?’
‘No, I haven’t! Well, but—’ Paul looks at their hands again. Looks at her ashen face. Helen is the one who lets go first. She crosses her arms and sniffles.
‘Paul, don’t listen to him. I don’t know what these people want. Just because I don’t want to go back to where I came from does not make me an alien. You believe me, don’t you? Paul?’
He takes a deep breath and faces Mr. Hunter again. ‘She is the smartest person with the biggest heart I know. She has always supported me, back when we met as students as much as today, every day. I don’t know where I would be without her. If anyone here in this room is definitely human, then it’s her.’
‘In all those years it never occurred to you that she might be too perfect? That her level of cleverness is unnatural? That she might simply be presenting you with an image she wanted you to see?’
For the first time Paul wavers. He remembers their friends starting families. They never actually talked about any of their own. Neither has he ever asked Helen about her childhood. If she does not want to talk about it should that make him suspicious?
To him, she has indeed always been perfect. But too perfect? No. What makes him love her are all her imperfections. Not how bright she is but how she does not have all the answers all the time and how she does not expect him to either.
‘I am sorry, Mr. Taylor. You are not the first human I have had to have this talk with. I don’t enjoy this, but you have to face the facts. And even if you don’t, we will have to take measures soon. This situation must be dealt with.’
‘I am not a situation!’ Helen shouts at Mr. Hunter who turns away and raises his left hand. Not to protect himself, as Paul at first assumes, but to touch the device in his ear.
“What? The wrong— No, not again! You know, just for once I wish I could send you lot out here by mistake and have you make them forget! We will discuss this!”
He sighs, turns back to Helen and Paul and says: “Mr. and Mrs. Taylor, I am very sorry about the inconvenience.” Then he pulls out a small black sphere and holds it in front of him.
“I am sorry love, of course I do believe you!” Paul starts walking towards Helen to pull her into his arms but before he can reach her, a bright light blinds his vision and he collapses.
He realised he had not touched his toes with his legs straight in decades. There had never been any reason to. Now he found himself among a couple of teens, some middle-aged women and one man well in his eighties, all of them managing to at least reach their ankles. His own fingertips were not even down to his knees. And even this made it hard for him to breathe.
Mia, the teacher in front, made it look effortless. She had the same sandy blond hair and blue eyes as Helen, which had instantly made him like her. At least until she started making them bend over, twist and move into a lot of not exactly comfortable shapes.
Two years of sitting while homeworking and then sleeping in a tent for the long-awaited festival weekend had done a number on his back. The orthopaedist had said that there was nothing wrong with his spine and it was due to muscle tightening from lack of motion. It had been an education reading up on all the things that happened to you just by sitting.
He had been advised to take up yoga, so here he was, finally rising up again into a standing position. He had spoken to the teacher about his lower back and she had told him to listen to his body and take breaks whenever he needed them. Paul really could have benefited from hearing this advice two years earlier and then also following it.
“Try and lift your toes any amount while breathing in. Try and lower them to the ground one by one and breathe out,” said Mia.
Paul stared down, only managing the breathing part. His toes just would not budge. On his left, the elderly guy repeatedly moved his toes up and down in an elegant dance. With his eyes closed. Eventually, Paul remembered he had to breathe out. At least his diaphragm was willing to cooperate here.
“Now, try and feel your centre of gravity and move it back and forth a bit, then left to right. Find a position where your weight is balanced evenly across your feet.”
Paul had never spent much thought on where his weight had been leaning. Then again, he had not been aware that standing upright could be called Mountain Pose. Giving it a name made it feel more intentional somehow. They had gone through all the cues twice before, but apparently Mia believed in repetition.
Paul felt beads of sweat forming on his forehead when he struggled to lift his sternum up while at the same time keeping his ribs back in, widening his collarbones, drawing his shoulder blades down and inwards and on top of that to relax his arms and keep breathing. Standing had never felt so complicated and strenuous before.
“Remember to not lock your knee joints and keep breathing,” Mia instructed them.
Right, the knee joints. Paul willed them to go soft, damn it! He very nearly fell over from the effort. When he was happy with his Mountain Pose at last, he saw that everyone else had bent down again. His lower back slowing him down, it took him a few seconds to join them.
“Right, now you have two options. Find Down Dog and breathe in. Either you wait here to follow my instructions through another series of Warrior Poses or you exhale lowering your knees to the ground, spreading them as wide as the mat.”
Paul observed the other students. None of them lowered their knees. Paul inhaled consciously. Then he let go and sank down with a sigh.
Mia beamed at him. “Rest your belly in between your thighs and see if you can lay your head down on the mat.”
Paul’s body just melted into the mat. He had expected this class to be a lot easier and at the same time to be much more difficult. Feeling so much at home in this simple posture was a welcome surprise. Paul had not known his body even had a sense of home like this.
“Stay here for as long as you want. I have a quote for everyone to focus on for the next couple of minutes. It is by Jigar Gor and goes ‘Yoga is not about touching your toes. It is what you learn on the way down.’”
Paul’s body decided to stay like this for the rest of the class, blissfully ignoring the other students and forgetting all about his back and his toes.
Helen lay dozing in her hammock on a warm July afternoon, when she heard a strange chomping sound from about three feet away. She was wide awake instantly. Paul had left for a business trip, and the neighbours did not usually turn up unannounced. Even if they did, they would call for Paul and Helen instead of go munching on the vegetation.
Okay, just stay low and take in only very shallow and quiet breaths. Do not make a sound and hopefully it will aaall go away by itself. Oh, God…
Unfortunately, the chomping did not go away. From the sounds of it, its source moved even closer to her cocoon of cream-coloured cotton. Torn between panic and curiosity, Helen lifted her head just enough so she could peek over the edge of the hammock. To her surprise, there was an elephant in her garden. An elephant. In her garden. It was close enough to her that she could see the wrinkles in the dark grey skin. She imagined she could even feel the warmth radiating from this unexpected intruder. It was quite small, so it fit in relatively well between the shrubs. But not so small that Helen felt totally safe with the situation. Very slowly and very quietly she withdrew again, her thoughts racing.
Okay, this is what an elephant looks like from up close. I like elephants. In theory. Right, shallow breaths, shallow breaths. Oh God, I need some oxygen. Hope it hasn’t seen me. It looked quite preoccupied with my plants. Aaaw, the plants! And they were starting to look just like I had wanted them. All the digging and grooming and the patience. And I am not exactly good at patience! Please, let it at least not eat the roses!
The urgent need for more detailed information outgrew her sense of doom and eventually Helen gave in and ventured another look at the animal, which seemed to be absolutely relaxed and happy to sniff at the leaves of the plants around it. I bet they have excellent hearing with those ears, Helen thought at the same moment as the elephant turned around and looked directly at her.
Don’t move. Stay very quiet. How good is their eyesight again? Those eyes look pretty small, don’t they? Wait, elephants are vegetarians, but I think I read something about attacks on humans. How dangerous can they be? Really? What do you have to do to make an elephant attack you? Does it depend on their general mood? This one looks pretty chill to me.
Helen realised her phone was on the table nearby. She had placed the hammock so that she could swing a bit, should she feel like it. This meant that the phone was probably just about out of reach. Helen and the elephant stayed locked in a weirdly calm staring contest for what felt like another minute, then it turned away again to pluck some petals off the rose bushes.
There go the roses. What a shame.
Neither Helen nor Paul had the greenest of thumbs. They tried, however, and the garden was the one thing they were tenacious with. Through the years they had managed to get the combination of shapes, colours and textures just right. Since their garden had a lot of shade from the neighbours’ tree, they had chosen mostly brightly coloured flowers: Creamy roses, white and light green hydrangeas, pink begonias, light blue violas. All of them easy to spot even in the shade. Even if your eyesight was not excellent. Maybe the dark red cherries were safe. They grew on the small tree near the hedge at the back end of the garden. The hedge with a brand new entrance, roughly the width of a medium-sized elephant.
Helen somehow gathered the courage to lean slowly over towards the table, her eyes not leaving her visitor for a second. When her hand was just a few inches away from the table, the elephant looked at her again and blinked. She froze, wondering if she should pull back her arm slowly or quickly. Eventually she went for slowly and hid again behind the cotton wall.
Should I call the police? The responsible thing would be to let someone know, right? We can’t have a wild animal running around in the neighbourhood. Why did it chooseour garden anyway? Why didn’t I hear it? What is going to happen, when all the flowers and shrubs are gone? When it eats something it doesn’t like?
A grey trunk reached over the edge of the hammock, ruffled and sniffed Helen’s hair. It began probing her left ear, which to a person whose only plan had been to lie in the shade in peace and quiet turned out to be unpleasantly loud. The trunk felt like it was all muscle, mainly because it was. The tip was a bit wet and left a trail of snot behind. It pulled at her shirt for a bit, prodded her feet, and eventually disappeared again. This did not seem to be too dangerous after all, even if a bit yucky. At this point, Helen remembered where the animal was most likely to have come from.
Oh yeah, those posters advertising the bloody circus all over town. Poor little creature, I wouldn’t want to be in your place. Dance like they tell you and there will be no trouble. Let people drag you up and down the country and parade you in front of others who see you as nothing but entertainment. Judging and punishing you for what they think of as misbehaving. I can kind of relate, you know.
Feeling more sympathetic than scared by now, Helen sat up so she could look at the animal again. It really did not seem to want to cause any trouble, just chew up her flowers. That seemed kind of fair, even though Paul would not love the new look of their hedge. Or how their pond got a thorough stirring around right now. Good thing they had decided not to put any fish in there.
I don’t blame you, Helen thought, anyone would try to escape that kind of life. I hate when people assume their expectations are more important than what others need. You know, society in general: As soon as you are a bit bigger than people would like or whenever anyone decides to trumpet a bit differently than the rest, things can get ugly so quickly.Okay, I admit that my problems don’t exactly compare to yours.It’s just, a lot of the time I feel like I could do more or be more if I did not hold back so much. Or if I maybe decided some decisions are not really mine to make and worry over. If I didn’t get into knots over nothing.
The elephant had started on the cherries by now. It was plucking them slowly, one by one from the branches, really savouring them with its eyes closed.
“So what is your name? Your real name? I wish you could tell me about your life and what you would want to do, if it was up to you. Apart from eating my cherries.”
The elephant did not answer, but it paused and stared into Helen’s eyes again for a long few seconds. It appeared to sigh and went back to the cherries.
“I know I should alert the authorities somehow. It’s the adult thing to do in a situation like this, right? Not that I have ever been in a situation like this one before. But what if I don’t? Would I be responsible for any damage you do elsewhere? You could stay in my garden for a while. Until all the edible plants are gone, I guess, but still. You would just have to keep the noise down. And I don’t know how much water you require. That might be a problem, because I would really like to keep the pond the way it is. Or, you know, there is a beach nearby. If you go back through the hedge and turn left, you just walk straight on for about a mile. Can’t miss it, and it’s just lovely. The sand is so soft and the water is quite warm this time of year. I bet you would like the beach.”
Suddenly, there was music coming from the table: “I don’t care who you are …” Helen leaned over and this time managed to grab the phone. “Where you’re from…” In all the excitement she had forgotten that she had set the alarm, in case she fell asleep. “What you do …” She hit the button to stop the music and switched on her browser. She half-heartedly searched the internet for information on who to call in case of a surprise visit by exotic animals.
“Is it okay, if I take a couple of pictures? Paul is never going to believe this otherwise. Well, he is going to believe that something happened to our plants, but this? Probably not.”
The elephant seemed to realise what Helen was about to do and lifted its trunk in an arc above its head. As if it was posing. Then it began a little pirouette. Helen winced.
“No, not like this! Stop! Just go back to doing what you did before! You don’t have to dance for me!”
The animal froze and made a small trumpeting noise. It seemed to shrug into a more natural stance, then remembered there were more of those nice little red things to eat.
Helen took a few photos. And there it was. Looking at the scene on the display, she saw this living creature as if for the first time. Without thinking about the why or the how or the why not. Without rational thought in general, just taking in how the elephant got this much joy from the simple yet perfect activity of eating fresh fruit from a cherry tree. Without negotiating or waiting for things to meet any requirements. Helen took a deep breath and decided to deliberately not make a decision and instead to just watch and wait. The lack of guilt she felt made her strangely happy with herself.
When the tree was finally devoid of any fruit, the elephant gave it a couple of shakes to check for stray cherries it might have missed, then sniffed and trumpeted once more, a bit louder than before. It trotted over to the hammock to spread some more snot onto Helen’s outstretched hand before it turned and walked towards the back of the garden. It waved its trunk as it squeezed through the new exit in the hedge, then turned left and stomped away. Helen hoped it was going to love the beach as much as she did.
