The morning air touches me with the crispness of autumn. I don’t feel as reluctant this time to the coming season. It cannot be slowed by my denial. I will find ways to embrace the falling temperatures and bare trees.
The house is empty with just the two of us and the dog. She has become our new companion on our outings and she is delighted. The nearly 13 year old is more puppy than old dog. Her joy surprises us and we coo over her as young parents do to a newborn. Silly.
I touch on my thoughts of this digging in. I think I will stay with the tree metaphor and the roots. I have been looking at pictures of trees and home décor that include branches and leaves as we get ready to do a facelift on our home. Could be it was percolating in me all along. This metaphor of life.
The neighbor’s house is set close to the long lived trees in our little development. I have envied their view. The host of trees holds wild life and there is constant activity. I saw that one of their trees had fallen from the recent rains and wind. Next to the downed tree is an old reaching tree with scars revealing branches removed. It was probably done to lessen its weight and give better steadiness against the elements. Hope for a longer life. Necessary, I guess. I am drawn to keep a tree as it is. As if pruning might bring pain to the tree as bits and pieces of itself are taken away.
What does this all mean to me? William Bridges, an author on transition recalls this experience is much like moving from “householder to forest dweller”. What are my fears as I move from the roles I have held so dear to know the person that held these roles so dear? What makes me reluctant to move in and dig deeper? To look at my roots? Branches? To prune. What do I need to let go of? What expectations and thoughts about me are necessary to discard so I can live fully. Knowing will help me. Realizing them will move me into the forest.
