Living each day much muchier
When people are on the point of drowning, all they care for is their lives. But as soon as they get ashore, they ask, “Where is my umbrella?” Wisdom, in life, consists in not asking for the umbrella.
I sat under a tree yesterday for about an hour. It was a very companionable tree. It stood there, minding its own business.
It transpired. It sheltered. It rustled and made patterns of light on the ground. It was beautiful.
I didn’t expect anything more from it because it was a tree. It was perfect, just as it was.
I tried to learn something from the tree. I’m restless, distracted and anxious at the moment. Nothing feels right but I can’t pinpoint what’s wrong.
So I lay back against the solid trunk and imagined it was perfectly content to simply be there and be a tree.
Am I likewise content to be there and be myself?
Can I breathe, eat, sleep, write and dance and let that be enough?