Pile o’ Sticks

On consistency in action.

What if you did one small thing consistently?  What would you have a pile of at the end of the season?

Living in New England we like to have a wood fire in our houses in the winter.  This year I haven’t been able to have a fire because the chimney inspector found some cracks.  But I still have a pile of wood neatly stacked in my yard.

It is a long tradition.  It is part of my DNA.  Part of the cycle and rhythm of life for hominids living and surviving in cold climates. For millions of years, since the discovery of fire, we have been the collecting and storing wood against the coming cold.

I don’t know why but I get a supreme sense of satisfaction looking at a well-cut, well-stacked cord or two of wood in my yard.   I enjoy the practical act of gathering, cutting and splitting those worthy New England hardwoods.  Part of the secret, inherited knowledge is which woods are best for the fire and which are not.

At the risk of starting to sing Monty Python’s ‘Lumberjack’ song, my favorites are the oaks, the ashes and the sweet-smelling wild cherry trees.  I’m not picky, I’ll take what I can find in the hardwood category, but I am a connoisseur of the finer species.  When you put a weighty chunk of well-dried red oak in the fire it fairly glows with splendid warmth.

In the spring you gather the wood.  Maybe you cut some trees down.  Maybe you find some uniquely fallen trees to scavenge, provided by the winter storms.  Thusly participating kindly in the cycle of life. With axe and machete and chain saw you reduce the trees to movable lengths and logs.

You trim the small branches for kindling and pile the brush for compost.  You drag, and carry and flip with great sweating heaves the large logs. You stack them to begin the drying process.  Because among the secrets passed down is that dry wood burns hotter, safer and more easily.

Then, over the course of many long summer evenings or Saturdays the chain saw sings and the logs. are reduced to fireplace lengths.  The maul, wedge and hammer follow quickly with that satisfying heft, strike and split that reduces the lengths to firewood.

With any luck the splitting and stacking is complete by summers end so that the last warm, dry days of August and September can work their magic on the drying firewood.  Once the wood is stacked and covered it is left to rest, like a harvest of new wine, a testament to a man’s synchronicity with the seasonal cycles.

Which is a long way of saying, I’m always on the look out for wood to gather for my hoard.

This year, in a spell of temporary insanity, my wife and I got a new puppy.  Ollie is a border collie and he’s the love of our life.  But he is also very high energy and needs to get outside every day for some sort of exercise.

I’ve taken to walking him in the woods behind my house.  It’s just about a mile loop through the forest.  A few times a week I’ll take him for a walk to let him burn off some energy.  I suppose it’s good for me as well, although I do not lack for exercise.

Back in October one of my neighbors and his dog were attacked by a rabid coyote on this same loop.  I took to picking up a stout branch to have as a defensive cudgel cum walking stick at the beginning of our walks.  Our woods are filled with downed branches and other flotsam with the winter storms.

Then, each time as Ollie and I returned up the driveway, I’d toss the stick by my wood pile.

Here’s the thing, (and yes I’m just starting to get to my point 659 words in), fast-forward to today, fours months later and I have accumulated a rather large pile of sticks.  I would estimate my pile of sticks is close to a 1/8 cord of hardwood.  Let’s say – 10 fires in the fireplace.

If you look beyond the symbiotic accumulation of BTUs, this large pile of sticks is a great visual reminder of the power of consistency.

My coach is always preaching that the secret to success is not effort, it’s not volume, it’s not striving – it’s consistency.  If you stick to your plan.  If you simply show up every and do the workout.  Over time you will accumulate your own metaphorical pile of sticks.

The smart people who I try very hard to pay attention to are always telling me a simple truth.  That while people wildly overestimate what they can do in hours or days, they wildly underestimate how much they can accomplish with consistent action over months and years.

Put the sticks aside for a second and think in terms of your health, your mind, your relationships.  What is the equivalent of picking up a single stick?  Maybe it’s reading for 20 minutes?  Maybe it’s writing for 20 minutes?  Maybe it’s loving for 20 minutes?

What could you accomplish in a season of small actions?

In 20 minutes I can probably read 20 pages.  If I do that 3 times a week that’s over 3,000 pages a year which is a laudable 16 or so books.

In 20 minutes I can write 500 words. Guess what?  At the end of a year that’s a 80,000 page book.

You get my point.

What makes it difficult is the point of view, or the frame of reference.  When you wake up today you are stressed and loaded and behind.  You look at that book or that blank page and roll your eyes.  Your monkey mind won’t let you be kind to yourself, even in these small stick-sized ways.

Start today.  Be kind to yourself.  Set the bar low.  Pick one thing.  Do it 3 times a week.  Give it to yourself as a gift with no expectations.

Start your pile of sticks.

Who knows?  Maybe in a few months you can be backing in the glow of a warm fire?