There are far better things ahead than any we leave behind.
Just yesterday, I was saying how much I love this big, old tree in my backyard, and how I’ve learned from it to let go of things that don’t serve me. This afternoon, I heard a massive crunching noise, and sure enough, it had dropped an enormous limb.
I really hope this tree doesn’t go into freefall and completely come down. Maybe it was just clearing house for the fall?
In the poem, When Great Trees Fall, Maya Angelou said, “When great trees fall, rocks on distant hills shudder, lions hunker down in tall grasses, and even elephants lumber after safety…They existed. We can be. Be and be better. For they existed.”
It’s peaceful, particularly now that the leaves are starting to fall and a breeze has rolled in.
The birds and squirrels mill about the yard, crunching across rust-colored leaves as they prepare for the chill to come.
A giant tree towers above the sunroom like a peaceful parasol. There’s something about its silent solidness. I wonder how such a huge tree can survive on so little – just the rain, the sun and the air – and why in the world such tall things don’t topple over.
The key is self-pruning.
Every so often, that tree will drop weighty branches that it doesn’t need anymore, ones that have rotted or overgrown.
That tree speaks to me without words. Let go of what doesn’t serve you.
Pain from the past, fears for the future. What might have been. It just weighs you down if you don’t release it. Once you let go, you’ll find you’ve cleared space for new growth. Seasons change, and life goes on.
Like the joy of the sea coming home to shore,
May the relief of laughter rinse through your soul.
As the wind loves to call things to dance,
May your gravity be lightened by grace.
Like the dignity of moonlight restoring the earth,
May your thoughts incline with reverence and respect.
As water takes whatever shape it is in,
So free may you be about who you become.
As silence smiles on the other side of what’s said,
May your sense of irony bring perspective.
As time remains free of all that it frames,
May your mind stay clear of all it names.
May your prayer of listening deepen enough
to hear in the depths the laughter of God.
John O’Donohue, For Equilibrium, a Blessing
To Bless the Space Between Us: A Book of Blessings
Part of the problem with the word ‘disabilities’ is that it immediately suggests an inability to see or hear or walk or do other things that many of us take for granted. But what of people who can’t feel? Or talk about their feelings? Or manage their feelings in constructive ways? What of people who aren’t able to form close and strong relationships? And people who cannot find fulfillment in their lives, or those who have lost hope, who live in disappointment and bitterness and find in life no joy, no love? These, it seems to me, are the real disabilities.
Fred Rogers, The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember
This is my cat, KitKat J. Snorington, binge-watching his version of Nature NetFlix. Just outside, a whole world of squirrels, chattering birds, and two raccoons (such frequent visitors, we’ve named them Rocco and Enrique) mesmerize him for hours. Until it’s time for his catnap (which lasts for most of the day, just FYI). At that point, he lives up to his name, and starts snoring – a ton. 🙂
“When you wake up in the morning, the cells of your body have pushed the reset button. And if you don’t reintroduce negative beliefs that you have about your body or about your ability, as soon as you wake up—then you have a fresh start.”
Esther Hicks, the Teachings of Abraham