Tag Archives: tree planting

2016 New Beginnings

Second day of a new year, and I wish all my followers of Liberated Way abundance, health and happiness in 2016.

This blog is retired, but the occasional post like this will appear.

2016 stands before me like a freshly ploughed field, a fresh opportunity to harvest something through choices and deeds that I will feel good about.  People at this time make new year resolutions, often too many, too ambitious and without sufficient motivation to carry them through to completion.  I shall make three resolutions as follows:

mother_tree

This is the Mother Tree of my oak saplings.  It fell in a storm in 2013.  The tree lives on in my memory as a symbol of my dream to find personal happiness, motivation and serenity through my choices and deeds in life. 

1. Planting trees.

I have found homes for my eight oak saplings in their third winter of life. My largest oak sapling “Branwen” shall in the autumn be planted in Stanway in Colchester in a parish council graveyard, whilst its sister oak saplings will head to a wood on the opposite side of Colchester near Greenstead.  My business will fund a tree planting scheme during 2016 in the “Greenstead Wood”, which is now held in a trust so that nobody can sell it if the owner dies.

2. Selling a board game.

After gaining my first orders for an interpretation of a game found in a possible Druid grave in Colchester, and positive support from local archaeologists, residents and media, I will begin marketing the game locally in Colchester.  When I moved seven of my oak saplings to the Greenstead wood, I also took my a game board with me, which we played in that wood.  The game I believe is the same one as the Celtic storytellers call Fidchell or Gwyddbwyll, which means “Wood Wisdom.”

3. Building an artificially intelligent entity.

The film Golden Compass describes a world where people have companion animals called daemons, which are manifestations of their inner selves.  I have a deep desire for my own daemon like those of the Golden Compass, which might be possible through artificial intelligence.  Many frustrations, needs and ideas converge in my desire for daemons, which no doubt will alarm some people with vested interests in the toxic paradigms that infest this world.

  • websites coded and run by daemons.
  • elephants, rhinos and refuges for wildlife watched and protected by daemons.
  • the deaths, injuries and suffering inflicted upon patients in UK hospitals due to negligence and bad administration prevented by daemons who can monitor everything, and run all administrative processes, leaving staff to care for patients.
  • daemons working alongside human counterparts to manage projects.
  • specifically children, a totally loyal daemon that can protect their privacy, security and interests.  The age of corporations such as Google that can snoop on the personal information of individuals would be ended by the daemons.
  • replacing left-brain approaches with right-brain processes to AI.
  • challenging the obsession of developing AI based on humans and animals, with one based upon plants and eco-systems.
  • exploring ideas in nature, philosophy and animism such as the concept of genius loci in AI.
  • changing the rules to focus human society on sustainability (action in harmony with nature); experience (mother of wisdom); senses (mother of knowledge); creativity (right-brain focus); and reason (conclusions based on senses, experience and the common patterns of nature.)
  • wiping out top-down, centralised, command-and-control systems with a decentralised, localised and independent thinking set of systems.

Nothing big you understand, but rather a personal exploration of ideas I have through AI daemons.  To me, the greatest thing I could obtain is happiness, motivation and serenity, which would come to me in abundance from exploring AI daemons, but the implications for human history and society might be profound.

New beginnings

What the caterpillar calls the end of the world the master calls a butterfly.

My fallen comrade, a tree, which dominated a field boundary.

My fallen comrade, a tree, which dominated a field boundary.

The eve of the Celtic new year, marked by what feels a new cycle in my life.  The eve of the first day of winter, the land marked by the passing of Storm St Jude.  The last 24 hours is like a rollercoaster of creative connections, like pieces of a jigsaw, connections fall into place, revealing the picture of solutions to long-standing challenges such as business branding and the direction in my life.

Escape from death

I returned to my camp site in the wood, the nighttime temperatures fell to a new low of 5 Celsius, I am testing my limits in nature, I passed the night challenge comfortably.  I had enclosed the camp on all sides with a boundary of branches, cut in half by the fallen tree, a victim of St Jude.  I previously considered locating my tent under the tree, had I done so, potential death.  Had I been standing under the tree at the wrong moment, for I had stood under it as St Jude smashed into the wood, I would be dead.  I am thankful for good fortune of life, the fallen tree and my escape from death teaches me about the impermanence of life, that life is a risk.

Spirit of Place

I believe all places have a spirit, essence, or life.  When I camp I ask the spirit of place to protect me and my belongings when I am there, for life is partly random chaos, thus there is a risk of harm from random events.  I would like to think the spirit of place watched out for me, I suffered no harm from the fallen tree.  From challenge, a hidden blessing, the fallen tree offers satisfaction of needs for a seat, protection from the wind and a place to hang clothes. This morning I made a dedication to the spirit of place in the Roman fashion:

“To the Spirit of this Place, Alexander faithfully fulfills his vow.”

A gift from ancestors

This morning, I cut through Cymbeline Meadows, in a field I find a tool from my ancestors, at least 3000-years-old.  The stone tool shaped like part of a pickaxe, the sort one might use to carve out a hole in the ground to plant crops by hand.  I shall visit the archaeologists to get their view on this tool.  The find is ironic, for today I was planting acorns.

Visit to a fallen friend

I pass where the oak tree I named “Castle Tree” fell, a tree whose death I grieve. There are thirteen cows in this field where the tree fell of mixed variety, some with horns, that like to shelter near the fallen tree from the weather in what is a field exposed to the elements.  I practice mindfulness and respect for the cows, who are at the other end of the field, mindful to what the cows do, and respect for their unpredictable nature.

Cow guardians

A pheasant flies away at my approach to my fallen friend, another unknown creature is moving amongst the fallen branches.  It is a sad scene of destruction.  The tree stump stands tall at the field boundary, a monument to my friend.  I look for acorns on the ground, there are none.  My mindful attention notes the cows galloping towards me, forcing me to run to a gate in an adjacent field.  The cows gather like watchful guardians on the other side of the gate, wary of me, sniffing at me as I talk to them, rejecting my offered grass.

Gathering of acorns

On the other side of the gate I find acorns that I was seeking from my fallen comrade.  I collect fourteen acorns, all brown and cracked, some with little roots seeking life-giving anchor into the earth.  Like a loving parent I place the acorns into my breast pocket.  I climb over several gates to avoid the watchful cows, I make my way to civilisation.

Challenges and Blessings

In civilisation I find pots and compost, I plant and water fourteen acorns, placing them at a location I thought was safe.

I visit a retail store in Colchester, purchasing two items for £2.00.  I tender £10.00, I leave the shop discovering I have been given £13.00 as change.  I look at the strange blessing in my hand, which should have been £8.00 rather than £13.00.

I return to my home in civilisation.  A challenge, as my landlord has been gardening and has disposed of some of the planted acorns.  I am upset, I keep my composure, there are no arguments.  I recover acorns, but one acorn is lost, I am now down to thirteen acorns.  The landlord offers additional pots and compost – a hidden blessing.

Thirteen appears a significant number today: thirteen cows; thirteen pounds(£); thirteen acorns.

The challenge over the acorns reveals another hidden blessing, the delay means I am available when a business customer turns up with little warning at the door with the final items that completes a jigsaw of a major business project.