I have a framed image in my bathroom that Janet gave me when I moved. The picture is black and white and it is of a single tree; the simplicity of the color and object saying, “I am truth.” Trees do this to me. I fell in love with the picture when I first saw it and every time I note it’s presence, I remember what falling in love feels like.
Trees have deep roots that reach into spaces we cannot see or know of and sometimes their roots wrap themselves around other trees or rocks in their determination to grow and remain and when I think of this it never ceases to move me. Trees survive and they know strength, perseverance, stretch across a life time and tell a story of power and existence. I cannot always understand the language of trees, but I can try. It is a worthy attempt.
Trees speak the truth.
I have cleaned house and have no room in my life any longer for what is not true. It has made me love those that remain more deeply. It has made me love myself.
Laugh at the way my throat catches when I see evidence of strength and survival in the midst of pine beetle kill or the aftermath of fire or an enormous blow down; you cannot hurt me if you do. I will only feel sorry for you. I understand hanging on, survival and finding the way out of disaster and recreating who I am, and am grateful I do.
I wish everyone felt and felt deeply when spying the sight of roots wrapped around a boulder that seek soil and don’t give up, with graceful branches weaving to the music of the wind regardless of the weather.
This is what I wish for you today in any case.