Inner Monologue
Hey, Tree! Yeah you, Tree, the one just standing there with the bushy leaves. You know, you're too short and too wide. Are you even a tree? Maybe just a bush? Your leaves aren't really green enough. I can see some patches on you where your bark is missing. I wish you would sway a little more to the left when the wind passes through. Could you work on that? And why are you just standing there like that? Why don't you DO something after all? You're not doing enough, not being very P-R-O-D-U-C-T-I-V-E. I mean, I know you like create an ecosystem and make oxygen, but, whatever. Big deal. Do more. Oh, and by the way, you certainly aren't as cool as that other tree over there. Why can't you be more like her?
What a ridiculous speech to a Tree! Absurd! But it's what we say so often to ourselves. What I say to myself. What if we could see ourselves as trees – each one unique, perfect, "doing" exactly enough, being who we really are, and living our best lives? Let's go easy and take more care. Relax. Let's be trees, at least for a little bit.
Comments 2
Thanks for the wisdom, Hannah! I had a discussion last week about our scraggly Russian olive trees, that can barely pop out leaves, no less fruit or anything else. The other woman said she couldn't bear to get rid of hers, because after all, they were here before our houses came along. They belong here. My tree counterpart might be one of those, and it's good to remember that, I, too, belong.
How and why and when did I miss this blast at the mighty Cedar. She stood there and took that frontal assault with dignity, knowing full well that she isn't the beautiful soft gray-green of the Russian Olive, nor does she smell as good, (unless cut into). Perhaps her strengths come from her age. She deserves respect.
I learn from coming to the defense of the Cedar, that it is so much easier to advocate for others, easier than for ourselves.
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