What do I want to be when I grow up?

Which road should I take?

I don’t know what to wear!

Do I take this job or that job?

Where do I want to live?

Ah, decisions, decisions!  Or, in my world where a different word is used, ah!  Choices, choices!  Don’t we make choices every single moment of our lives?  You bet.  Every day we choose to respond to the alarm clock (or not), get to work on time (or not). . .  Read More…

Hello.

Are you a sitting tree, here for me?  I see a spot where I can cop a squat — right in the crook of your several trunks, here is where I’ll think some thunks.

I mean, thoughts.

You stand quite proud and mighty strong, and you’ve stood here so very long, being right where you belong.

How much thought did it take, for you to finally make the decision to be here, instead of there?

Perhaps none.

And what about your branching; is this some kind of tree dancing, where one trunk chooses to be four?  Seems to me, these four do give you more ways to branch out; so much easier to extend in whatever direction you intend.

Do you decide how your branches will grow?  They go up, and around, then high, then low; and as they change, and furl around, do you make a happy sound, one that only trees can hear?

Your internal choreography — delightful to see!

You make me smile, so I’ll sit awhile, and I thank you for inviting me.

I’ll sit and wonder, I’ll be still and ponder how lovely when we get to sit upon a strong and steady  tree.

Yes, I’ll sit a spell, nestled in this four-trunk tree . . .

Then I’ll say Goodbye, California, thanks for the past six weeks!

There’s nothing new, its all been said so many times before; in every land, in every language, and on every shore.

We’re born to be happy, born for joy, we’re meant to be born free. Read More…

I started out quite small, you know.  Infinitesimally small.  A tiny seed, dropped by my parent tree, set free by a gentle breeze.  Drifted to earth.  I lay there, still as could be.  Fallen leaves began to cover me.  The world got cold, and in a few months I was blanketed in snow, in a deafening silence.

I just lay there, blanketed, quiet, inert.  But something was stirring, I remember that.  Soon I began to feel a bit of warmth.  I felt something within me reaching down into the earth, and it felt good.  It felt so good, that something else within me began reaching upward.

There I was, this tiny little creature, reaching downward and upward at the same time.  Was something wrong with me?  Was I confused and didn’t know which way to go?  It kept happening; as I reached farther down, I also reached farther up.  Continued warmth increased my activity.  I noticed other creatures like me — doing the same thing.

For a while I stopped wondering what was going on in me, because I was so curious about what was going on outside of me.  Strange, wonderful, curious events all around!  Seeds sprouting.  Crawling creatures on the ground, and in the ground.  Hopping things.  Winged creatures in the air.  Strange sounds, all different, yet making some kind of music,  and I sensed a harmony unfolding.  Four-legged creatures of all sizes and shapes appeared, and their own unique sounds enriched the music of the forest.

I realized that I was making no sound.  I must be a silent creature.  And I don’t move, either; I seem to be — oh, what’s the word — rooted in one place.  This is MY place to be.  Silent is MY way to be.

The warmth grows stronger, the light is more intense, and it moves me to open all these tiny buds on my limbs — I dress myself in layers of green.  Each day my dress expands and enlarges, and my limbs continue reaching upward, and now even outward.  Creatures find their way up my limbs, onto my leaves, and they do curious things.  I see nests being built, webs being spun; I see beehives developing right here on me!   I think I’m a habitat.

This feels right.  I accept the creatures, and I grow in my understanding of relationship.  I have friends.  I don’t stand alone.  I am the silent, still being that allows and accepts it all.  I stand strong but in willing surrender.  I am tree.

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PS the Hot Air Balloon Mass Ascension scheduled for this morning was cancelled due to stormy weather.  We enjoyed the vendors’ wares and the other spectators wandering around with us at the launch site; we smiled and acknowledged that we were embracing the disappointment as a gift of some mysterious kind.  Besides, there’s always tomorrow!

HOW BAD CAN IT GET?

• Jobless, and unable to feed and clothe your children? 
• Homeless?  Broke and evicted?
• Stuck in a bad relationship?

I didn’t pluck these examples out of thin air.  I lived them.  I was not a victim.  I created each of these situations for myself by the choices I made. Read More…

They must often change, who would be constant in happiness and wisdom.  Confucius

I believe . . .  I think . . .  Seems to me . . .  Maybe . . .

These are words I use a lot, most often at the beginning of a sentence.  I’m now challenging myself here: why do I do that?  These words speak of uncertainty.  Am I uncertain, and uncertain about everything?

Do I want to be certain? Is this even possible?

Beliefs change.  Thoughts change.  Appearances change.  Realizations change.  Am I okay with this?

I was told that to grow is to change, and to change often.   This makes sense, and I see the evidence everywhere in nature — and nature is where lessons lie, right?  For me, anyway, since nature is where I choose to immerse myself.

Nature speaks of change; of seasons; of being true to one’s uniqueness and one’s purpose.  She speaks of harmony; and of acceptance, and surrender.  Nature just is.  This is what I love, and what I want:  to just BE.

Nature tells me that, in this uncertain world, there are three things I can be sure of —

I am.  I grow.  I change.

Where do your certainties lie, I wonder?