A splendid re-emergence

There isn’t much to do in the face of illness or death. I just sit in its presence: not waiting but being.

As winter takes hold, the trees that danced with red, yellow and orange leaves just six days ago reveal their bare nakedness: the humble skeleton of strength that births spring, holds life and pauses with death. Such pride it takes to stand utterly bare in the face of all others. Still tall. With purpose. Still offering shelter to other living creatures.

The squirrels scamper around without apology. The birds burrow deep into hidden nooks.

One tree in particular has a vicious vine wrapped all the way around it, from base to treetop. A strong vine: thick, determined. I want to cut it off the tree, saw right through it. It is nothing but a noose. A self-determined noose.

Who knows how long it will take to tear down this tree. Gracefully, the tree pays it no attention. It continues to grow. But the vine will be the death of the tree one day. Some day. And I don’t like it.

The vine reminds me of some people who have entered into my life with malicious intent. People I welcomed into my life unsuspectingly. Who would presume that people have agendas of taking away the happiness of other people? I mean, I thought that was left for politicians and serial killers.

Unlike the tree, I am free to walk away from people who are not kind. Thankfully, I am free to choose my friends, and free to request from friends and family both that I be treated a certain way. But this tree, it isn’t free in quite the same way. This tree lives with whatever comes, and nobly makes the best of it.

Perhaps there is a lesson there.

For the past three days I have been home recovering from a stomach bug of some sort. All my plans and intentions for the week fell away as I had to rest in order to recover.

Honestly, there has been a part of me that asked, “Why this week? Why, when I had so much momentum, did I get hobbled by illness?”

The truth is this: momentum is always there. Sometimes it is hindered by circumstances beyond our control, ie. a vine or an illness. However, like the tree, I keep growing whether I intend to or not. The key is to see this and honor it and make the best of it rather than falling victim to thoughts of failure.

As I say that, the reddest Cardinal I have ever seen just lighted upon the tiniest branch of the dormant vine tree. The purpose of the tree is still there. The tree is still needed whether it has leaves or not, whether the vine is wrapped around it or not. Similarly, though my external activity might not look exactly like I had intended for the week, my purpose has not changed. My activity has altered to accommodate my current circumstance but my purpose has not.

For the first time in my life, I see this so clearly. My purpose, like the tree, does not alter even though my activity might. I am here doing the very things in life I am called to do. A tree goes dormant in winter to conserve and create energy for the upcoming spring. I am like the tree. Conserving. Generating. Cultivating. Readying myself for one splendid re-emergence. Thankfully mine is just a matter of days….