Dying to Live
Monday afternoon I drove down Harrison Blvd and took in the scenes that were… war-torn. The amazing snow we had on Monday morning had wreaked devastation on the trees. It looked like a tornado had ripped through. Warren’s comment was, “now, I know why trees shed their leaves before winter.”
I am ashamed to say I had not ever thought of the aerodynamic reasons for trees to shed their leaves. As my friend Andrew Bailey noted from a biological standpoint, “You either make your leaves small and slick (needles) or you drop them and grow new ones in the spring.” I have always understood this seasonal life cycle and I have always tried to learn from the wisdom of that… but this was a very dramatic teaching to demonstrate what happens if we try to hold onto everything. We become bloated, overdrawn, weighed down… and ultimately break apart.
Here again the words from last Sunday ring in my ears “The Lord is my Shepherd… I shall not want….” No one sets out to collect and keep and hold onto masses of things. No one sets out to be a hoarder of stuff… or books… or space… or memories… but we all feel the temptation to do so… we all use the same rationalizations, “But what if….”
Hearing Warren’s thoughts I realized that in order to live – to survive, and even to thrive – we always have to do a bit of leaning into death. We have to let go, knock dust from our sandals, and prune off the things that are holding us fast or that we are holding fast to in order to keep ourselves moving gracefully into this present moment and whatever surprises it may bring.
What are you clinging to? What is clinging to you? Where might pruning be in order?