Why wood rules. Cut it, split it, stack it, haul it, burn it. Passing by an older teacher seemingly struggling with splitting a huge pile of logs, I offered to help. His reply was swift and short, "go find your own damn wood." I have come to fully understand this response. Other than swimming long distances, I have yet to discover a faster way to the zen zone. Strike the up-ended log in the sweet spot and behold the purity of kinetic release. Find a steady groove until the forearms tire and then start stacking, a true sublime pleasure. Like building cairns, interlocking the logs into a solid cord which holds its ground through coming seasons is utterly gratifying.