Sunday, October 6, 2013

The Sap inside the Tree


It's weird how I always have to say that. But it makes me feel better to have somewhat of an opening word.

I always find first words the to be hardest to write. But after that, an abundance of words always flow from somewhere, out the tips of my fingers, slipping neatly onto the screen.

I've been thinking of a million and one things I want to write about---a million things I want to say, the stories I want to write. But I want to say them all at once. And wanting to do that all at once paralyzes me, makes me feel as though I have too much to say, too much to do, too many ideas, too many stories.
 How can I ever find time for all the things I want to accomplish?

Then I remember, and say to myself. "Stephanie, you can't do it all at once. Nobody can. You have to start where you are. And take bite-sized pieces, chip away at the things you want to accomplish, one word, one page, one paragraph, one day at time. All I have to do is take time---make time, and remember that everything you've ever accomplished has been one little action at a time, one little blog post at a time."

So instead of writing a million things. I will write what I am feeling right now. Nothing more. 
 How much more easier that seems,even though I have a checklist of things I should write about. 

But I won't "should" on myself. It's not a very nice habit.

So, here I am. Here you are. You, me and the Autumn cold.  Together for a moment.
There's a stillness in the air. A stillness that is reverent, quiet, meek. The trees bare of birds, the sky a stark blue that seems almost bleak to me. The quiet almost hurts my ears.  It's almost as if the trees know what is coming. Their changing leaves sag, like weary garments aged and decaying. The seasons shift and move. Autumn is here yet again. It's biting tang reminds me that winter is coming, that summer really is over. It's almost as if someone has died, a spirit warm and gentle, good, and green.

Yes, the melancholy time of year has arrived. A time where a primeval wondering lurks in the back of my mind of an accounting to my time spent in the summer. Am I prepared for the winter? Did I do all that I could? Did I really enjoy the sun so that I can remember its warmth in the dead of winter?

I hope so.

A season has passed, and a new one is upon us. A cold calm of the harvest rests over the tired land. 
 The tree's sap has turned inward. 
 All that was lush and lavish is left behind to preserve the roots. 
 The abundance of summer is gathered in. 

I am reminded once more that nothing lasts, only changes. Nothing we possess can we keep.
All the extra things we thought we needed are lost in the frost. 
Only the sap that gives life to the tree matters. Only the essence of who we are, and the love that we carry preserves us through the "winters" of life. That is what keeps us warm.

 Every day is different. Even if much seems the same.
Just like a diamond, each moment is faceted with a colorful array of feelings and emotions, actions and reactions. There is so much good we all can do, so much beauty we can enjoy, see, taste, touch. 
 We just have to be awake to the moment to fully enjoy it. 

Life is short. 
Be gentile with yourself and others.
Keep warm.
The frost is only as powerful as the sap inside the tree. 

Until next post,

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