woods

‘Only the weak are cruel. Gentleness can only be expected from the strong.’

–Leo Buscaglia

A couple of years ago I was out in the country with a good friend of mine, giving him a hand in clearing some trees on his property. There was a ramshackle house on that piece of property that hadn’t been lived in for years. We were clearing the trees to make a path for the demolition equipment to come in and tear what was left of this house down so a new one could be built.

We hauled logs and trees that had already fallen. This area had not been visited by anyone in quite some time and was quite overgrown. We didn’t bother with any of the larger trees but anything under forty feet was fair game. We were in the middle of the woods and it was just us. My friend had two Stihl chainsaws and was cutting the trees down. I was hauling the logs out out of the way and stacking them to be cut into firewood later.

We took a break- there were a lot of trees left to take down. My friend had two chainsaws, one for each of us, so we decided to divide and conquer. When we got started again I grabbed a saw and found that I could not get it running. I yanked the pullcord. Nothing. To be safe I topped off the fuel and the chain oil. I adjusted the choke. I gave the pullcord another tug. When it still wouldn’t start I assumed that I wasn’t pulling hard enough. So I pulled harder.

My friend stopped me and told me to be gentle, otherwise I would rip the cord out. I kindly let him know that I was an extremely gentle person.

He laughed. ‘Maybe gentle of spirit,’ he said and gave the cord an easy tug. The saw started right up.

That man, always with the truth. I thought I was being gentle….

The truth of the matter, and what became clear that day, is that behind any kind of power is gentleness. Not everything in this world can be beaten or bullied into submission, though there have been times in my life where I liked to think so. As with the chainsaw, gentleness sometimes IS the power. Out in the woods that day, the one who was gentle was the one who was cutting the trees down and that person was not me.

Gentleness is often seen as a sign of being weak. This is not true, despite what has been demonstrated to us throughout our lives. While brute and strength and force have their place, without something gentle behind them they serve only to divide and intimidate. Gentleness serves as a means to connect. It acts as a vessel for strength, holding it and giving it purpose. Behind every great leader, parent, speaker, or creator of things there is something gentle. Without that everything dissolves into fear and chaos.

This is the lesson of the Lionheart. To find gentle is to find power. The road to finding those is courage and bravery manifested, which are traits of someone who is Lionhearted. It’s not an easy road for certain but the best ones never are.

This blade is a 6in filet/boning knife, built from 1/8″ O1 tool steel stock. It was commissioned by a man who has quite a bit of Lionheart in him, and was the inspiration for the namesake of this knife:

Rough cut:

Filework on the blade choil. This makes it easier to sharpen and provides a visual aid in creating symmetrical plunge lines:

Profiled:

Initial work on the bevels. Removing too much steel will cause it to warp in the forge. Ready for heat treat:

Hardened:

Removing more material after heat treat:

Hand sanding:

Satin finish:

I should have drilled these earlier, but here we are:

Rivet holes in the scales. The wood is Redheart:

Ready for assembly:

Profiled:

Shaped:

The Lionheart:

Be gentle with that chainsaw….

“Take the time to know
How alone you are in this world
Just to find
Death is on your mind
As you stand still, you realize where you are
In her world
Aged and bright
My moon after the tide”

Craft Spells- Komorebi

(you can read about the initial inspiration for the Forester here)

I love the forest. I’m fortunate to live in a larger city that is in close proximity to the woods. I have good friends who live on farms in rural wooded areas. I occasionally house-sit for one of my good friends who lives out in the sticks and I will tell you that as a city person there isn’t anything much better than being able to wake up to a place like this:

I think what makes the forest such a special place these days is that it gently brings you into the moment. Not all at once, and not all of the time. Sometimes I go into the woods and all I can think about is how I am going to get my health insurance paid or why I didn’t wash my dishes before I came. Both of these are valid concerns and also a prime example of not being with yourself, or being present- how am I supposed to experience the here and now when I am consumed with shit that will be dealt with later? It’s a thing: once you start noticing that you aren’t being present with yourself you can start to work on it.

When the presence does happen it’s quite wonderful. It’s as if you can see what you are doing and where you are going without any judgement. I try to capture those moments. There’s a vulnerability in the forest because you are so open. Everything is. And it’s empowering and humbling. There is no posturing and no bravado. You can feel your place in things and it feels so safe. At least for me. These are the places where you can really feel your being: There’s a word in Japanese called komorebi. Literally translated it means “sunshine filtering through the trees”. This page explains komorebi a bit better than my understanding of the depth of it permits me. What I do know is that it conveys a sense of wonder at something that would be there whether we are present to observe it or not. It just is. I dig that.

The seasons of the woods: summer…
And autumn when the leaves fall:And winter:And spring:

This is where the Forester comes in. Something that that looks like it just stepped out of the woods, without pretension or affectation. Something to help you be present with yourself and to find the power and connectedness in being vulnerable.

I found a green cutting board that I thought would be interesting to work with. I liked the idea of being able to take something green with me when I couldn’t get to the woods.

…and I hated it. I though it was ugly and it wouldn’t sand up or polish the way I wanted it to. So I cut it off and put an oak handle on instead.

She is made with O1 tool steel, white Oak handle scales, and brass hardware. She was bought by one of my good friend’s father, who is a bit of a Forester himself.

May wherever you are be where you are supposed to be. This is the lesson of the Forester.

groundedinfire

lessons, journeys, and wonders

Knifemaking: Chainsaws, Being Gentle of Spirit, and the Lionheart

Knifemaking: presence, vulnerability, and the Forester