Today I did something that I have wanted to do for a very long time. I bought a Wood Turning Lathe and all of the equipment that goes with it. Last Wednesday I joined a Woodturning Club.
A couple of months ago, beginning of February, I started turning wood. I offer to help Sister Audrey in her workshop at the Monastery. I have wanted to learn to turn bowls and candlesticks and whatever else for a very long time. I would love to make my own Chalice for Communion rituals. I didn’t believe that it was actually going to happen in this lifetime. But now it has.
At the beginning of February, Sister Audrey taught me some basics about working with the wood and the tools and the lathe. I made a couple of candlestick holders as my first practice pieces. Within a couple of days, Sister took me to work with her friend and mentor who teaches at the Woodturners’ Meetings. I have met him before, but not as one who wanted to turn wood.
When Audrey and I arrived at his workshop, he had a beautiful large piece of freshly cut cherry wood with bark still on it, mounted on his lathe.
He asked what I had turned, how long I have been turning, what I knew about the tools - how to handle them, since that is critical. I answered, two candlesticks from one piece of wood, I started recently, a couple of days. Didn’t know very much yet. I was looking forward to his instruction. He looked at the candlesticks, He looked at Sister Audrey. She said something that I found curious, “She’s not afraid. She just takes to it.”
Six hours later I had completed with their guidance, my first Ritual piece: A Womb Bowl to be used when I teach the Feminine aspect of God.
Now that I am learning more about working with wood and the power tools involved. I am developing a healthy fear of some of the machines. After nearly losing a finger today, Dave is insisting on a safety lesson regarding the equipment. I am grateful for the wisdom of Mentors.
So here I am. Finally, working with wood. I love wood. I pray while I am touching and caressing it. I start by thanking it for the gift of its life, for sharing its essence with me as I mold and shape, sand and oil, buff and polish to a shine.
Many life lessons in the wood. The Spalting - the deep dark lines that are formed as the tree ages and begins to rot. Who would have ever thought rot could be beautiful.? Maybe it is just the word we use and the baggage that comes with it.
I think of rot as simply being past ripe, sort of being mature on steroids. It is the accumulation of all that we have been, fermenting into something more than we ever dreamed.
I love the rot that is slowly taking hold. You know, more years completed than yet to come. On this plane, that is. I know I have an eternal soul and that I am here, like you are, for an amazing human experience so that my Soul can learn and continue to expand and grow. I believe that it is a privilege to be human and to have all of the experiences that come to me as total gift. Yes, even the ones that are unpleasant and sometimes deeply painful, physically, emotionally, spiritually…. I am often reminded that in the scriptures it was the pain of hot coals held by an Angel of God to the lips of Isaiah that prepared him, initiated him for his life’s call. What is my call and my preparation? What is yours? Did you know it at the time? What have you learned from that experience? Do you continue to wait?
Someone recently said to me, to watch for the new growth from GrandFather Tree who had to be cut down because of the rot that had taken his ability to hold his great limbs to the sky.
GrandFather Tree is the reason I am installing a woodworking room in my home. One of the first bowls that I turned was from GrandFather Boxelder’s spalted wood. Spalting is wood coloration caused by fungi and is primarily found in dead trees but can also occur in living trees under stress. Sounds like human conditions to me, aging and stressing. Kind of a fancy way of saying rotting, falling apart, you know the sayings we use for this culmination time of human earthly life.
Strange how we use words and over time meanings get messed with. What I have learned from GrandFather is that rot can be beautiful! The wood is darkly lined with secret stories that I will never know. His inner core has the distinction of a gorgeous vibrant red that is natural to the Boxelder and sought after by woodturners.
I have turned a bowl to remember GrandFather, my dear friend and prayer companion. You can see it here. It is the one with his distinctive spalting and red markings.
To my friends who have diminished in physical size from mighty trees standing as sentry before the rising sun, swaying in the arms of the wind. Transforming into candle holders, sentry bearers of a new Light, and wooden bowls turned with love and care to float upon the waters with the ashes of my Beloved.
As a Wood Turner, I am privileged to hold the sacred wood in my hands and feel the vibration of a life share. GrandFather who held me in moments of deepest prayer, Thank you. Amen.
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