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ReWilding the Adult

Please add headphones for a full experience

We all have memories and dreams that take on fresh memory when told. Their original energy can be restored by simply retelling them, Told by someone other than the original author is even better. More magical, and maybe, more riveting so we pass them on, saving a life, maybe even our own. It can set loose a grip that needs loosening.

Without directing it to be lore, they can be hand me downs when we’re long gone .
A good story has meaning that we can make our own or we can take a piece of it and turn it into something else that we steal for ourselves. 
Isn’t that part of storytelling? 
But stories need people otherwise they vanish.

Whittling.. that often forgotten joy by creating something beautiful 
Out of the most basic of elements, wood and metal. 
Sliver after sliver, carefully cuddling that pocketknife your Dad or your grandmother gave to you. 
We can say the same thing about writing and all kinds of crafts 
and including our adventures. But use the best and keep it simple and let the tools give you what 
they’re capable of.

Like any hobby or sport, your ideas can be tooled or blinged up. But, I talk about it in its purest form, 
using a knife and fingers along with not so old imagination. All seem to retain their patina and the 
connection this way. It’s how they stay alive this way, selfishly and lovingly. Hands, fingers and wood, 
and knife. Wood is free and it waits for you outside or in your neighbor’s wood.

You could easily have your pick of knives at a craft fair for the cash in your pocket. The two, whittling 
and storytelling, are even better together. Ten minutes of silence between cuts and conversation can be 
a lifetime opportunity to create something beautiful or to retrieve a distant memory to share. Want to 
go geared up and be safe, wear a leather glove and you won’t come home with a slice in your palm. Or, 
is that the mystique?

Where do these story ideas come from? They come from the same place, that deep corner of our brains 
that pop with spark. Have you ever noticed that it’s easier to talk about nearly anything uncomfortable 
when you’re sitting side by side like in a car? You almost wouldn’t dare to take it on when sitting across 
from each other. But, when you’re sitting next to each other, words can be carved and considered 
before they roll out. They come out as truth. Try it, but first find a pocketknife preferably one that 
someone gives you. It’ll become a jewel in your hand and something that will hardly ever leave your 
hand. Now, it’s alive and should be put to work, creating. But, first, sharpen it. A dull knife is a 
dangerous knife.

For beginners use a soft wood like pine or basswood. It’s easier to cut and imagine with. Save the 
hardwoods for later when you’re more skilled. Softwoods are easy to find, especially the fallen wood out 
in your neighbor’s woods. If not, you can get the wood from Amazon or the local hardware store in your 
neighborhood.

The cuts to know are easy to learn but they do take some practice. But, becoming reasonably proficient 
is on you. Forget tutorials unless you’re trying to create something highly complex. Your hands and knife 
and mind will start to work together in unison. The muscle memory quickly forms cuz you hardly have to 
wait for an outcome. The outcomes are already there, constantly. You’ll discover new beauty, cutting 
boxes, trimming flowers, unimaginable projects come right out of your pocket. Imagine, pure joy. Immediate creation. Whittling and sharing your stories go together. Both meet all of the criteria for 
keeping your brain working. You can’t do either with no thought. You can do both together. Try it. Then ,
teach someone. Your daughter, your son, your nephew or your goddaughter. It’s a life skill you didn’t 
know you needed. It will never ever leave you. It’s a multiple sense experience.

It takes every one of your senses to do it right. And right is defined by you. Add a fire and friends and 
you’ll share something that will bond you for life. I promise. The remember when will never disappear. 
Why? Because of those senses. Each one is alive. The smell of a fire, the wood you’re carving, touch 
happens continuously. Even taste. That cup of coffee or the bourbon you’re swirling around a single 
cube, that’s smell too. Sight. Yup. And, your hearing will be lit up with sounds from every direction even 
if it’s a quiet.

Think about it. The stories are waiting for you.