My best friend the tree sits with me day after day. Some days he looks as though he is struggling and I will him on as I sip my tea. Some days he looks radiant and powerful and I look up to him as my mentor. He is, you may remember, half a tree. Some years ago, he lost his friend who had stood so close to him that he was only able to develop on one side. He is gnarly but elegant in his dancer's pose.
This week he has been helping me. The familiar cloak of nothingness was placed around my shoulders and I have been walking at a stoop trying to hold it up from crushing me. So I sat and looked at my friend to see if I could garner strength from him.
His Spring and Summer vibrance has faded and, although his leaves have turned into crisp and bright yellow flames, singing loudly when the sun winks her wink at them, he is losing cover and he is being stripped to the branch, exposed.
He taught me to hold fast. It will not last. It will pass. Just keep on. Hold the day and the night will follow. Surrender to the night but make it wait when light appears. Wipe your face, dry the tears. All will be ok. Ok is enough. Just when the caterpillar thought it was all over, it turned into a butterfly. Hold fast. Make tea. Eat nourishing things. Sleep with intention. Light a candle to soothe the dark. Walk outside when there is light. Every, single, day. Keep to a routine.
He knows his stuff. And soon enough, he will dress and we will grow some more together. What would I do without him.
The room above the garage
A Moodscope member
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