Joe Cocker and I are chopping wood today.  Actually, I am the one chopping while Joe sings and gives me encouragement.   My CD player perches atop a step ladder in front of my shed, its cord disappearing into a clutter of tools.  Joe sings hoarsely into the crisp and very windy fall day.

”Lend me your ears, and I’ll sing you a song…”

The wind cuts across Joe’s words.  Baccaro Point tells me the gusts are 60 kilometers per hour.  The chopping leaves me winded, while the wind leaves me breathless.  I fight my way through the large pile of logs in front of me.  I couldn’t do it without Joe.

”…Oh I get by with a little help from my friends..”

While most good Nova Scotians have already cut and chopped their wood last spring and are now onto other things, like preparing for lobster season, I am just getting started.  Chefs refer to this phenomenon of being hopelessly behind as being “in the weeds.”   With winter only a month away, I am definitely in the weeds. 

Joe helps me face this.  He accepts my plight and cheers me on.  I am able to remember what I love about chopping wood.   It gets my heart pumping and my blood flowing.  It is my version of aerobics and Joe accompanies me.

“Love lift us up where we belong
Where the eagles fly on a mountain high…”  

Wall Street is collapsing, the global markets are in meltdown and the world teeters on the brink, but nothing can stop me from chopping wood.  It is my only advance upon the world and a state of well-being in it.  It offers blood-pumping exercise, warmth in the winter, and a measure of independence from Scotia Power.  When you stop to think about it, there is precious little these days that is good for  body, soul  and pocketbook, all at the same time.

“The road is long and there are mountains in my way
But we climb the stairs everyday…”

As I realized last summer that I was in the weeds with wood splitting, my good friend Skipper suggested I consider a mechanical wood splitter.  The winter before, Skipper, together with his sidekick Radar and son Garrett, had come to my rescue one January day with their gas-powered splitter.  In one day they knocked off six cords of wood, adding them to my pathetic pile next to the shed.
 “You might want to consider one of these,” said Skipper pointing to his machine.  In humiliation, I nodded.   Because we enjoy “free” energy here on McNutt’s, thanks to wind and solar, I opted for an electric wood splitter from Canadian Tire.  I convinced myself of its time-saving benefits and ignored a vague sadness within
. 
Sometimes I wonder if we lose more than we gain with new technologies that, in my case, split wood.  On the one hand, we free ourselves for other things, but, on the other hand, we lose a full and integrated connection with life.
When I plugged the sleek machine in and began splitting the first few logs, it blew out our electrical system.  I watched in horror as the wind turbine stopped in mid-spin.  This was a sign, I thought to myself.  Next time, pay attention to vague senses.
 
Canadian Tire was kind enough to take the machine back with full refund.  Now, I am back to splitting wood the old fashioned way, and I couldn’t be happier.  I am at five cords and counting.  Ok, two were left over from last winter, but still, I am on top of my game.  A few more cords ought to do it.  And I am not even tired.  And neither is Joe.

”Feelin’alright… (oho)”

Rev. Greg Brown
Executive and Life Coach
greg@gregbrownonline.com