That little birch tree (Lessons From A Tree – Part 2), taught me such a lot as I sat in my chair wondering if I would ever get outside again. Intellectually I understand much of what she has to say but emotionally I often take a while to catch up. Nonetheless there is solace in having somewhere to go for answers.
Do the answers come from the tree, from a higher self, the Universe, God?
I don’t know and I don’t care. Since we are all connected and our electromagnetic fields extend all around us, as do those of all living beings, how can I know where it comes from? Does it matter, if it helps?
Not to me. If I get answers, support and ease from that which causes me distress that is all I am concerned with.
Did we choose?
Looking at that little birch I wondered:
- Why she is growing there?
- What is it about that spot that provided the seed with exactly what she needed to grow?
- Did she choose or was it random?
Of course we can ask the same questions of ourselves. Did we choose to grow here? Many people speculate about that and some believe they know the answer. They believe we choose our parents, economic status, country and so on. I don’t claim to know. I don’t really care. I’m not wedded to any answer. I am more interested exploring ideas and what they might mean, what light they might shine on life.
So like the little tree we find ourselves alive and living. Like the tree we have to get on with it.
However, it seems that perhaps unlike the tree, we humans make meaning out of what happens to us. This becomes the filter through which we then view the world. At times this filter, our perceptions, can make it very hard to just get on with it. We ruminate over the past and worry away about the future. This makes it a challenge to actually be here in the lives we have.
I don’t know if trees worry and ruminate away about things, I suspect not.
In the moment
Watching this little birch I think not. I think she is in the moment, present to whatever is happening to her. She has to bend and flow with what comes her way. One day she is basking in sunshine, not a cloud in the sky, not a breath of wind. The next day it may drizzle all day, a fine grey haze of wetness coating every leaf till they become heavy and drip.
Does she complain that it’s not nice today, that she can’t do x, y and z? I don’t think so.
Another day the wind blows hard bending her branches and whipping off her leaves. Does she complain? I don’t think so. I suspect she just gets on with it. Her branches are designed to let the wind flow through and around them, the odd leaf is shed but generally she weathers what comes her way.
This little tree knows how to BE. She is a lesson in mindfulness.
- What would it be like if we were more like her?
- How would we feel of lapped up the sunshine of our lives, the moments of pleasure and joy?
- Could we find the gratitude in days that feel more grey and overcast?
- What would it be like if we could bend and sway with the wild crazy days that feel like they will blow us apart?
Questions to ponder, ideas to consider as we move through our day.
How would that little tree deal with this?