The Magnolia Experiment

I’m conducting an experiment beginning today. Can I get away with documenting a project on a public blog and keeping it a secret from my husband?

After arriving home from wandering the hillside around 6pm (wow! Daylight saving is amazing!) I found myself gazing up at our beautiful, resilient magnolia tree, covered in spiky and choking creepers, yet still flourishing and flowering when nature calls its name. 

“Why am I not compassionate towards these suckers?” I wondered at the spiky mess, teetering at the tip top of the tree on groaning branches. "They’re just doing what nature also calls them to do, as it calls all life to survive, finding ways to climb higher and higher, grow larger and larger. Wha makes the magnolia tree's molecules so much more superior than the ivy's?". I swallowed the guilt, reminded myself they were mostly lifeless, and with exhilaration embraced my anger at these snakes suffocating an innocent tree of such beauty.

This is something James has talked about doing for a while. How much can I liberate the magnolia before he notices? 

Tearing at 'weeds', no matter how philosophically questionable the concept is, gave me a feeling of (perhaps long lost?) strength. I love the slight fear, those times you forget you’re up high and you’re focusing on reaching out to unhook some stubborn old vines from a fork at the top of a tree…then look down and realise a fall would mean a broken limb - at least. Then carrying on. I'm a warrior for the magnolia (so as when people fight in wars with the chance of losing their lives for a 'greater cause', in my case the greater cause being life itself? But what about the weeds? Us humans are so good at finding justification for our biases). 

So all the thoughts I've had today about happiness, all the times I felt so utterly grateful for life and moments that had me burst out laughing culminate in learning how damn good it feels to climb a tree and tear down ivy. Compassion can sit on the balcony and watch me – I’m going to keep tearing till it’s gone, and keep loving every minute of it.

Sometimes you’ve just gotta clear away things to allow the real beauty and strength beneath it all to flourish.    

Is that a tree in front of the Magnolia? The sheer density of my newfound enemy, now down to a tangled ball, is illuminated by its own silhouette.