TantricSoul

Is there anything in life more constant than change?

The leaves have all turned brown, many of them have let go from the branch and allowed the cold, gusty, winds of this season of change to dislodge them from their perch, and yet still the stubborn ones cling to their branch, their old life, resisting the time, the call of change.

Yet life has a cycle and no matter how much the leaf clings to the old branch, the old form, they all will, in time be met with a gust too strong to resist. For isn't that how life changes us, tree or human? It blasts us with the winds of change until all that needs to be shed, so that we can regrow, falls by the wayside. Until all that's left is the core, the deepest parts of who we are, and this part must survive, not by hiding away, or seeking shelter, but by staying open, in the light, even when the light is weak and chilled, even when the gusts break limbs, the secret to change is found in allowing it all to be as it is.

For to resist, is to deny what is, and life will not be denied its cycles. The trees or humans for that matter that must weather this process, do themselves a kindness by allowing it to proceed, and hurt themselves greatly by fighting against what is.

The tree itself has changed, its nourishment being stored within for the dark, cold, bitter time ahead. The core of this being holding within the nutrients it needs to reemerge when the time is right and the season of change brings warm, pleasant winds, and when those winds do come, and they will, once again this being will surrender to cycle, to the need to grow, the process of rebirth.

And so I ask myself do trees have more faith than I? On some level, perhaps cellular, do they know, that the only way to become a beautiful, vibrant, plush form of life once more, is to let it all go, and withstand the winter, naked, unarmored, non resisting, knowing, perhaps trusting that in time, they will emerge once more, not in the same form, but in a form as equally alive, or even more beautiful than the old form was?

And what lesson did my time of observing this tree give me, how much more can I let go? How many more leaves do I have that are still clinging on to the old branches? If the gusts that have blasted me through this time haven't been enough to shed it all, and yet have felt strong enough to up root me, then by clinging on to the remaining parts of old desire, wants, beliefs, what type of storm could I bet setting myself up for? For one thing I do have faith in, life will keep sending these winds, making them colder, more violent, more intense, until all those leaves are gone, for until they are, there is no place for the new ones to grow.

Life teaches, and we learn and change, or we don't and die some form of death.

Yet I can't help but wonder, does that tree long for spring? Does it watch the sky as the nights grow longer and colder and feel pity for itself? Does it rejoice when the sun stays high in the sky longer and longer each day? Does it weep sap in honoring what has been lost or changed? Does it measure change the way I do?

No i think that tree is wiser in the ways of life than I. And it would seem that the squirrel agrees.

Humbly,
~TS