Pinecone Pass
By Stephanie Kemp
Pinecone Pass.
(A rip off and ode to Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott)
Every time I come to this mountain with its gorgeous canopy of trees, fresh air, clean sky, confident sun (or clouds……or rain……or snow), lyrical winds, infinite space, tease of possibility and promise of time (even if it’s a quality not quantity visit), one thing derails my bliss:
The pinecones.
No matter how long it’s been since I have been here (and I try to come here all the time), the forest floor and concrete driveway and creaking steps and wrap around porch are covered with so many pinecones and pine needles that the ground isn’t even visible.
When I pull up to our cabin (we have a cabin!) I think one terrible thing:
I don’t deserve this.
This leads me to more terrible thinking:
How could I be so reckless, allowing this much tinderbox kindling to collect?
I could burn down the neighborhood (or the whole mountain!)!!
This is California, for God’s sake!
What must the neighbors think?
(You know, the neighbors who can clearly all afford to have people take care of their pinecones and property…Or worse - can take care of it all by themselves!)
Only Real Grown Ups should have a cabin in the woods!
(And what about my back?! It will never be able to help my hands pick up all those pinecones!)
Nevermind that I am a full blown 58 year old who has worked really hard in her career while also raising two amazing daughters and totally loving (and mostly liking) her husband of 21 years?
Who CARES?
What was I thinking?!
(And which realtor friend from my real life also sells houses in the mountains?)
But now (ten years of owning this beautiful little cabin later), I am finally writing this down because:
But I digress…..
So, What is a Pinecone Pass, you ask?
It is the thing I do, every single time I come here (always against my initial will and always full of dread) upon arrival. I force myself to put on the gloves my sister in law gave me, grab my rake and broom (plus 12-15 massive black garbage bags) and walk out the front door…(because all I really want to do is read/write/sleep/walk/lie in the hammock/take a bath/“cook”).
My shitty thinking gets its ass kicked as I:
• Start to pick up one pinecone at a time (usually filling up all of my garbage bags)
• Remember how to breathe properly (and sometimes even sing out loud, almost properly)
• Drive to the dump (usually six runs, pre-pine needle)
• Keep going (even though I never ever get through all the pine needles, who could? It is a forest, for god’s sake)
• Am humbled once again by how much I respect (and fear) Mother Nature
The Pinecone Pass is such a fool proof game (and life, and thought) changer that I am at this very moment benefitting from it, even though I haven’t even done it yet. (I am still in the I only want to read/write/sleep/walk/lie in the hammock/take a bath/“cook”! part of the trip, especially because my deleted first attempt at writing this down was probably much better.)
See?
Shitty thinking is a beast.
This is why we (all) need at least some version of Bird by Bird in our personal development and future productivity arsenal. Or at least the ability to channel (at least a little of) Anne Lamott.
While Anne’s takeaway (via her father’s advice to her brother) is that when you blow off a huge school assignment about birds that is due the next day you just need to sit down and write about one bird at a time, mine is slightly different:
Before I can sit down to start anything at all that matters to me, I need to ground myself by taking a minute to tend to the little plot of Earth I am lucky enough to be standing on in appreciation and hopes of leaving it a little better than I found it.
I am sharing this just in case you have never read Bird by Bird, but might somehow be reading this despite the fact that it (currently) only lives on my computer.
(This might sound defeatist, but the shitty thinking will be history later today, after my gloves are off and I get back from the dump post pinecone pass.)
In a few hours I will be unstoppable…at least for a few hours (or days, or weeks, or months - you never really know how long a post pinecone glow will last).
Maybe this will be the title of my own (sure to be) forthcoming book:
Day by Fucking Day
(I added the F word only because Day by Day has been taken by so many other people who - also! - write books. Please believe me when I say I would never choose to swear like this, especially with something as important and permanent as my someday book title. Although this might not be true, as I am quite fond of swear words…….especially when I haven’t started my pinecone-ing yet.)
cc: daughters
(A rip off and ode to Bird by Bird, by Anne Lamott)
Every time I come to this mountain with its gorgeous canopy of trees, fresh air, clean sky, confident sun (or clouds……or rain……or snow), lyrical winds, infinite space, tease of possibility and promise of time (even if it’s a quality not quantity visit), one thing derails my bliss:
The pinecones.
No matter how long it’s been since I have been here (and I try to come here all the time), the forest floor and concrete driveway and creaking steps and wrap around porch are covered with so many pinecones and pine needles that the ground isn’t even visible.
When I pull up to our cabin (we have a cabin!) I think one terrible thing:
I don’t deserve this.
This leads me to more terrible thinking:
How could I be so reckless, allowing this much tinderbox kindling to collect?
I could burn down the neighborhood (or the whole mountain!)!!
This is California, for God’s sake!
What must the neighbors think?
(You know, the neighbors who can clearly all afford to have people take care of their pinecones and property…Or worse - can take care of it all by themselves!)
Only Real Grown Ups should have a cabin in the woods!
(And what about my back?! It will never be able to help my hands pick up all those pinecones!)
Nevermind that I am a full blown 58 year old who has worked really hard in her career while also raising two amazing daughters and totally loving (and mostly liking) her husband of 21 years?
Who CARES?
What was I thinking?!
(And which realtor friend from my real life also sells houses in the mountains?)
But now (ten years of owning this beautiful little cabin later), I am finally writing this down because:
- I have had just enough (but not too much) coffee
- I am (slightly) trying to procrastinate
- I actually wrote it down earlier this morning, but then accidentally fucking deleted it
- I care that I am a full blown 58 year old who has worked really hard in her career while also raising two amazing daughters and totally loving (and mostly liking) her husband of 21 years!
- I don’t want to sell (or lose, or burn down) our cabin
But I digress…..
So, What is a Pinecone Pass, you ask?
It is the thing I do, every single time I come here (always against my initial will and always full of dread) upon arrival. I force myself to put on the gloves my sister in law gave me, grab my rake and broom (plus 12-15 massive black garbage bags) and walk out the front door…(because all I really want to do is read/write/sleep/walk/lie in the hammock/take a bath/“cook”).
My shitty thinking gets its ass kicked as I:
• Start to pick up one pinecone at a time (usually filling up all of my garbage bags)
• Remember how to breathe properly (and sometimes even sing out loud, almost properly)
• Drive to the dump (usually six runs, pre-pine needle)
• Keep going (even though I never ever get through all the pine needles, who could? It is a forest, for god’s sake)
- Can’t believe how strong my back (and the rest of me) actually is (although I do always check to make sure we have Advil in the house before I start clearing)
• Am humbled once again by how much I respect (and fear) Mother Nature
The Pinecone Pass is such a fool proof game (and life, and thought) changer that I am at this very moment benefitting from it, even though I haven’t even done it yet. (I am still in the I only want to read/write/sleep/walk/lie in the hammock/take a bath/“cook”! part of the trip, especially because my deleted first attempt at writing this down was probably much better.)
See?
Shitty thinking is a beast.
This is why we (all) need at least some version of Bird by Bird in our personal development and future productivity arsenal. Or at least the ability to channel (at least a little of) Anne Lamott.
While Anne’s takeaway (via her father’s advice to her brother) is that when you blow off a huge school assignment about birds that is due the next day you just need to sit down and write about one bird at a time, mine is slightly different:
Before I can sit down to start anything at all that matters to me, I need to ground myself by taking a minute to tend to the little plot of Earth I am lucky enough to be standing on in appreciation and hopes of leaving it a little better than I found it.
I am sharing this just in case you have never read Bird by Bird, but might somehow be reading this despite the fact that it (currently) only lives on my computer.
(This might sound defeatist, but the shitty thinking will be history later today, after my gloves are off and I get back from the dump post pinecone pass.)
In a few hours I will be unstoppable…at least for a few hours (or days, or weeks, or months - you never really know how long a post pinecone glow will last).
Maybe this will be the title of my own (sure to be) forthcoming book:
Day by Fucking Day
(I added the F word only because Day by Day has been taken by so many other people who - also! - write books. Please believe me when I say I would never choose to swear like this, especially with something as important and permanent as my someday book title. Although this might not be true, as I am quite fond of swear words…….especially when I haven’t started my pinecone-ing yet.)
cc: daughters