I am the tree

Not just my thoughts, as leaves at the mercy of wind and rain or snow, who tumble and lift and twist but will not release from my branch. Sometimes bright green or vibrant or not at all.

Not just my desires as branches solid yet pliable and willing, lifting and sagging, bending with that wind and that rain. Sometimes breaking in dispare from a storm or the weight of snow.

Not just my body as a trunk, the years adding in rings, the bark hardening and becoming brittle. Sometimes eaten or pecked at devoured or decayed.

Not just my heart as roots wound and thick, outstretched, breaking the hardened soil and grounding me to the earth. Sometimes cut or pruned from negativity, making them turn and curl like toes grasping for the moment.

No. I am the tree, solid and tall, whole in all seasons and all weather.

Ducks in a tree

Lillies reflecting blue sky and warm breeze. A tree that bends and grows, still full of life, foliage young and healthy, reaching out over the water, horizontal and not quite ready to reach and touch the sky like the others, yet it is a resting place for those weary of the effort to continue to swim and search.

There was this tree. It was not damaged at all. It was growing out over the water with its limbs reaching up to the sky, full and healthy as if some magical part of it was below the water’s surface in triangle pose. As I got closer to it I realized that there were ducks relaxing on the trunk. It was a very strange scene yet right now, for me, very normal!

Sometimes we take a huge leap, an unimaginable gamble, because we believe in ourselves. We know that somehow our desires will be met even though our loved ones think we’re fools because there is no reason to think otherwise.

Sometimes we try something new, so new that we’re not even sure how to navigate it.

Sometimes we choose to grow out over the water instead of straight up like everyone else and still we thrive enough to offer shelter to those in need, and sometimes our leap is appreciated even though it might be seen as unconventional as ducks in a tree.

Out of the frost

chirps of cardinals, wind pushing cool air onto my cheek rosy with frost, fresh and tingling almost burning, my steps rhythmic crunching and crunching as I move forward in my desire, the desire to change the landscape of my life from frost to mud, then warm sun, golden

Out of the frost I move with conviction to change.

Hats and hats

I’ve been making hats big, small, different colors and patterns. They’re crocheted around and constructed from the inside out so that I’m making a bowl that just keeps getting bigger. They’re awful but I can’t stop making them. It’s something about the process, the circle round or the fact that it’s a bowl I’m not sure but I keep showing up at family member’s homes announcing that I’ve arrived with another bag full of ill-fitting hats. Maybe it is a way for me to start a new year, a new ring around my life.

The forest’s exhale

Crunchy steps under spiked boots on mud and ice. Slow drops on branch tips unable to decide if they were liquid or solid. Rain and 37 degrees making wet clothes from the rain and from the sweat. Raw wind as welcome relief from my body overheating, yet the air was fresh. The forest’s exhale was a gift. Despite the unpleasant conditions, the externals, the air brought me to the moment. The perfect moment when my sweaty body was refreshed. The misty raw air, hitting my face was wet and wild and alive, and I was free from that which was unpleasant.

May this year bring you the freedom to be wet and wild and alive and not be pulled out of that beautiful moment by externals.

When

When the warm winds blow melting ice and snow, removing winter for just a day, all that remains is the reflection of deep blue sky and leaves brown limp and soggy.

Even though it is painful beyond belief, the clarity you receive from a tough conversation is worth it because you have the opportunity to heal and move on.

“The lotus is the seat of great sages and saints, buddhas and bodhisatvas, all those who have refined their consciousness to a state where they can root themselves in life’s muddy soil and use its fertility as compost to blossom the soul.”- Sally Kempton

Ugly wisdom

Moss and saplings cover and intrude under a canopy of blue light. Uncomfortable frustrating experiences creating a space of knowing, a kind of wisdom. Wisdom based on fear, making you mindless and almost superstitious.

The ugly wisdom.

The kind that compels you to park in the same area, sit in the same area and walk the same trails because they work, they are familiar. The burl, the reaction, that brings you to respond with a quick no so that you don’t say yes.

The ugly wisdom

Soon comes a gentle breeze expelling last nights rain off your leaves. Soon comes light and with it change.

trunk

“From her heart grows a tree” whose bark has peeled and chipped, now leaving exposed wood growing moss and green creatures fertile with new life to pass. She is solid below the surface, and confident the new chapter will take root.

Thank you Melanie. See her post here. I hope I did this right! 🙂

https://nature-led.org/2021/07/27/from-her-heart-grows-a-tree/

Sweet

Large bloom of white, protecting and surrounding, standing out in the forest, deep dark and rich. Fragrant small buds like children holding the future of the species, fertile. Sweet, oh so sweet nectar abounds as the forest begins to awaken to long warm summer evenings of growth, swollen with life.

Sometimes we just need to know that we are protected. We need to know that our needs will be met. Once we realize that they always are, that this journey we call life is as it should be, then we can taste the sweet nectar. Then we can swell with life. Then we can live.