My Tree and My Final Years
During quarantine time I snuck away to be alone and reflect a bit. I tried my hand at painting for the first time in decades. I am trying to start nature journaling with the kids and cannot believe how much I am learning from observing nature so closely. It has proven to be so therapeutic and I understand more and more why scripture points to nature to teach us valuable lessons. Drawing this tree I noticed so many things. See, I've always had a goal of growing old gracefully. It is so important to me that I do everything I can to take care of this body but that I don't become bitter at growing older. I want to take each season and glean as much from it, pour as much as I can into those around mead then move forward to the next chapter.
While I was drawing this grandeous tree I began to wonder. See what drew me to the tree was not as much its grandeur, though that was breathtaking if one took the time to notice it, it was all the imperfections in the tree. The white blotchy marks on it, the huge knot sticking out, the gapping hole in the trunk of the tree (that was reminiscent of Piglet's house in the Hundred Acre Wood.) 😍 The way the limbs grew crossways and downwards then upwards and sideways, almost as if they were trying to figure out which way they were growing while they were growing. I love the way the bark was not smooth everywhere. As a matter of fact there was more wrinkled bark than smooth.
It looked like it had lived. It looked like it had gone through some hard winters. As a matter of fact there were parts of the tree that I almost felt I could say, "Wow, that must have been a hard season, or a hard decade, but looked you kept going, you didn't die and you were able to grow such beautiful branches and leaves from that limb. You even thrived enough to produce nourishment for so many animals around you.
I noticed that the tree didn't try to hide all of its imperfections, that it didn't compare itself to the other trees around it. How silly that would be because they weren't even the same type of tree. It just stood there strong and tall reaching towards the heavens with all its imperfections, spots and lumps telling a story. Telling a story of life lived, of perseverance, proof that you can overcome harsh winters, violent storms. Proof that you can use your weathered life to keep giving life to those around you.
While I was drawing this grandeous tree I began to wonder. See what drew me to the tree was not as much its grandeur, though that was breathtaking if one took the time to notice it, it was all the imperfections in the tree. The white blotchy marks on it, the huge knot sticking out, the gapping hole in the trunk of the tree (that was reminiscent of Piglet's house in the Hundred Acre Wood.) 😍 The way the limbs grew crossways and downwards then upwards and sideways, almost as if they were trying to figure out which way they were growing while they were growing. I love the way the bark was not smooth everywhere. As a matter of fact there was more wrinkled bark than smooth.
It looked like it had lived. It looked like it had gone through some hard winters. As a matter of fact there were parts of the tree that I almost felt I could say, "Wow, that must have been a hard season, or a hard decade, but looked you kept going, you didn't die and you were able to grow such beautiful branches and leaves from that limb. You even thrived enough to produce nourishment for so many animals around you.
I noticed that the tree didn't try to hide all of its imperfections, that it didn't compare itself to the other trees around it. How silly that would be because they weren't even the same type of tree. It just stood there strong and tall reaching towards the heavens with all its imperfections, spots and lumps telling a story. Telling a story of life lived, of perseverance, proof that you can overcome harsh winters, violent storms. Proof that you can use your weathered life to keep giving life to those around you.
As I head into my 40’s now more than ever before, I want to live the rest of my years like this tree. After all, “Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride! -Jeanne Mayo (adapted from a quote by Hunter S. Thompson)
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