Night, the beloved Night, when words fade and things come alive
When the destructive analysis of day is done, and all that is truly important becomes whole and sound again. When man reassembles his fragmentary self and grows with the calm of a tree.
Antoine de Saint-Exupery
Inspired by a poem shared by Robyn Gordon the other day, in her wonder-full blog, I started thinking about how we (I) can remain calm in this ever increasingly crazy world......
I am reminded of a tree. Tall, steadfast, seemingly unflappable.......
Always loved trees as a child, still do.
I hugged them, climbed them, grew them, pruned them, walked through woods filled with them, preserved fallen leaves from them, and strove to learn the names of all of them.
In trying to remain stress free in a stress filled world, I think I should be more like a tree.
No stress.
Nothing to worry about, except when someone approaches you with chainsaw in hand, a heavy wind rips you from the ground, or a forest fire reduces you and your forest to cinder and ash.
But, do trees worry about that happening? I am sure not.........
Unless, of course, one is a tree in a Christmas tree lot, whether a full bodied spruce, or a tiny Charlie Brown twig- they might have an inkling of their specific purpose in life, and what is their fate..... but, still, they live each day as it comes, not looking back, not thinking ahead, living in the moment.
A tree has nothing to do but grow skyward. Nothing to think about but absorbing the sun, loving the rain, and growing taller.
The world continues flailing wildly around them, and trees just look up.
Trees are blissfully unaware, just lifting their arms to the sun, drinking in the rain, firmly grasping their "feet" to their little spot of earth, and going thru' the inevitable motions of the seasons.
With, apparently, 'nary a care, thought, or worry.
Oh, to be a tree..............
