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I think we could all use a little more good stuff in our lives these days, don’t you?
The past few weeks I have been obsessed with leaves. Autumn leaves.
I’m not sure if we are having an unusually gorgeous fall, or if my intent focus on the leaves makes it seem that way. (That’s often how it works: the closer you look, the more you see and appreciate.)
What I do know is that my walks lately have been treasure hunts, as I look for the prettiest leaves. Neighborhood streets I have walked down many times have a different dimension to them now. I thought I knew these streets, but this season I have fallen in love with the flaming smoke bush on the corner, the maple one block down. How have I not noticed how truly amazing they are?
What was the difference? I was leaf hunting.
When my nieces and nephew were younger, we used to collect autumn leaves and dip them in melted beeswax. The wax preserves the colors, sometimes it even makes them brighter, and gives the leaves a smooth, slightly rubbery feeling. While the colors do fade over months, it’s a way to capture autumn a little bit longer. This is a project I learned from my friend Molly, but it speaks to my former Waldorf school student soul (pretty much everything with beeswax does).
It’s also calming—looking at nature, gathering it up, slowly dipping each leaf, one by one, as the honey smell of melted wax fills the kitchen. Because I know about layering pleasure (read about that here), I eventually turned on the classical music that reminds me of childhood and it was even better. Such a slow and meditative process.
At the same time, it felt surreal to know that, as bombs drop in the Middle East, as families mourn their dead and those taken hostage, I am dipping pretty leaves in wax. That is the truth.
But one thing I’ve learned is that beauty and pleasure are solace and fuel; we need to tend to our spirits if we are to be of help in this world. So I speak up, I make phone calls, I reach out to support those more impacted than I am, and on the weekend I dip pretty leaves in good smelling wax and this helps me continue on.
[These lessons came through Katherine North and adrienne maree brown (who wrote the book Pleasure Activism). Highly recommend the work of both women.]
Soon the kitchen was filled with more and more wax leaves, and I kept collecting new ones with every walk. I found the most beautiful specimens in front of a local sandwich shop. I noticed some smoke bushes have gold markings on them that look like aboriginal art. I saw a particularly spooky looking maple a block away from my house. All this beauty I had never noticed.
There is so much to appreciate, if only we stop to look.
I dipped so many leaves I started giving them away: a few leaves tucked into a care package for my niece in college, a bit of autumn from home. A box went to a friend who has young children (I hoped they would find the leaves as magical as I do, and they did). A bag tied with ribbon went to a friend who was having a hard week.
It might sound odd to give wax leaves to people—but some years ago, on a whim, I mailed a box of these leaves to a friend who was living in California and said she missed proper autumn. I thought it would be funny. But when she wrote back to say she loved them, she also said her mother-in-law was dying and she had been crying on the kitchen floor the day the box arrived, so you never know whose spirits might need lifting.
I want to break this down, because here is the important part. This little project did wonders for me because it incorporated so many things that make me happy:
• Being in nature
• A treasure hunt
• Making things with my hands
• Good smells
• Nostalgia
• Music
• Visual beauty
• Celebrating the seasons
• Experimenting/learning something new (some leaves preserve better than others!)
• Preserving
• Sharing
• Doing something nice for others
This list is not going to be true for every person. I know these are my happiness triggers, because I’ve spent time sorting out what lights me up (read about that here). It takes time and intention, but once you get clear about your personal fingerprint of delight, you can incorporate more of it in your life.
In the beginning I was deliberate about incorporating, but it’s become second nature to me now. I know if I go toward what I find interesting and intriguing, I will generally hit some triggers along the way. This one had so many, I wanted to share it as an example. It really made me so deeply happy.
This is what kept me sane on a week when, not only did the world feel full of destruction and horror, I was also dealing with personal things that wrenched my heart. Hard times are when I lean into these practices even more. It’s only pretty leaves, but sometimes it’s much more.
I’m going to add an additional layer of delight this weekend when I have some kids over to make the leaves with me. [Let’s just say that craft projects with children ARE NOT pleasurable for everyone, but again, I know my triggers; they do actually make me happy.] And I’ll drop off leaves for a few more friends. I like the idea of them decorating Thanksgiving Day tables around town.
I’ll list a few tips below, in case anyone else wants to make some. For the rest of you—what are your wax leaves? What is that project or activity or even place that ticks your boxes? I’m reminded of a friend who swears that happiness, for her, is a new Lego project and a glass of wine. Everyone has their thing, whatever it may be.
We’re going into a busy holiday season for some, but perhaps take a few minutes this weekend to make a list of things that make you happy. In hard times, in busy times, you may be glad to have those resources to fall back on. I know I am.
Sending autumn leaves and all my best ❤️🍂
For wax leaves:
• Collect fresh leaves that still are a bit juicy (not dried) and have good stems.
• You can store leaves in a plastic bag in the refrigerator until you’re ready to use them, but over a few days they may develop brown spots and lines.
• Use natural beeswax without color dyes (can be purchased in a block or in smaller pellets). Natural beeswax will be golden color when solid.
• Heat beeswax to liquid using a crock pot or double boiler (I’ve used a microwave as well, but the wax will need to be re-zapped regularly to keep it warm enough).
• If using a crock pot, you might want to initially melt the wax by placing the insert in a pan of water on the stove, as it can take a long time on the slow crock pot heat).
• Dip leaf fully into wax, holding the stem, let drip dry for longer than you expect. Place on newspaper for final drying.
• For crafting with children: take safety precautions and let an adult do the dipping. You know your kids better than I do, so decide if they can be calm around hot wax.
• If the wax dries cloudy on the leaf, it needs to be hotter.
• Let any leftover wax solidify in the pot or bowl used. I have always been able to pop the disc out (try freezing the bowl, or heat it very slightly if it doesn’t come out easily), but your mileage may vary. I have an old crock pot I’ve converted to full time wax melter. I would NOT do this in an Instapot, for fear of ruining it.
• Don’t display leaves too near a fireplace, heater vent, or candles, they may melt.
Tara, this all rings so true. The more look, the more we see. 🙏💛
I usually go on a creative bender with quilting, knitting, or sewing. But I’ve finished a lot of things this year, at a cost of deep cleaning time. I’ve done something every day this week to bring the tidy back. Even if I can only do one drawer, that’s progress--and it’s adding up. Today I emptied the coat closet, vacuumed cobwebs from the ceiling, and put things back more orderly than I found then. I discovered a very dusty jacket that I probably haven’t worn in 4 years. Tomorrow I’ll wash it so I can donate it. This weekend I’ll do similar in the living room; I need a very clean space in order to welcome Christmas decorations into it. The lesson I take as a maker of holiday magic, is that it doesn’t just happen--you have to make it happen. I can’t get excited about putting up a tree if I’m worried about cobwebs and clutter; so, this is how it’s got to be.🤷🏻♀️