The Cedar Spoon

During our last spring break at Earth Native, among Central Texas’s Juniper, Oak, Mesquite, and Cactus, our family found peace away from digital distractions. We gathered, each immersed in our projects under a canopy of trees, reconnecting with the earth and each other in a circle of creation.

Compelled by a spontaneous urge, I chose to whittle a spoon from a cedar branch. With no prior experience, guided by intuition rather than plans, I started carving. As my family’s quiet activities hummed around me, I slowly uncovered the spoon’s form, feeling each curve and learning the wood’s secrets.

Hour by hour, the spoon began to take shape. The process was both an act of creation and a meditation, a way to connect with the present moment fully. The rough outline of the spoon emerged from the cedar, each curl of wood removed bringing me closer to the final form. It was a process of discovery, of letting go of excess to reveal what was meant to be.

The final steps—carving, sanding, and oiling—felt like the end of a conversation with the wood. This simple spoon feels a bit like a symbol. A reminder of intuition’s power and the joy of discovery.

I rediscovered an important concept—it’s the quiet moments, the simple acts of creation, and the company of loved ones that shape us, reminding us of the essence of living a life grounded in the real, the tactile, and the deeply human.