We often miss the little things the universe is trying to tell us. It’s not that we don’t want to listen, but I think we clutter our everyday until we simply can’t hear. For most people, spring is the time to clean, prune, and take stock. But, for me, it’s a time to let nature take over. Let the new growth cover all the scars of winter.
Instead I turn to the fall, when the leaves begin to drop and flowers fade. It’s easier for me to see what’s missing when the branches begin to bare. The stunning contrast of what once was and what is now is enough to kick my butt into full on clean mode. I sit back in my chair and map out which branches to cut. Of course, this is where you have to plan each step with care. If you cut the wrong one the tree might be lopsided or you’ll end up with a hole right through the center.
My first instinct is to cut the whole damn thing down. I can always plant another one…right? The downside is you have to go back through the nurturing and growing phase which doesn’t bother me, because that happens to be at the core of my skill set. I’m good at helping things grow into maturity. The problem becomes, once grown, I’m looking for something new to nurture; sometimes forgetting that nothing ever reaches true maturity until winter arrives to take it back.
I guess the point is I’m learning in the fall of my years that cutting everything down and starting new isn’t the answer. If I step back and prune a little here and there when spring returns the new growth will make each branch stronger. Life is a process of death and rebirth, a transition from the newness of spring to the youthful frolic of summer to the changing colors of fall to the decay of winter. I once heard someone say “Unto every season a purpose is given.”
My purpose this fall is to learn a new skill; to carefully prune what isn’t working so as the seasons change my tree grows back balanced, beautiful, and stronger.
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“A time to keep, a time to cast away…”