Here is my final reflection from last December. At some point I’ll write a follow-up post on why in the world I decided to post 10 reflections on a tree here. Thanks for putting up with this :)
December 8, 2022
You surprised me. You surprised me twice, in fact. First, I didn’t think you had it in you for me to write ten journal entries about you. This is a shameful admission. All confession is, but there’s healing in it. Second, I didn’t think I had it in me to write ten journal entries either. I would remember I had to write about you and often felt at a loss just before sitting down at my computer. But there was so much in you, and me, and between us. You helped me realized how inattentive I often am and how healing attentiveness can be. I have been inattentive to you, of course. There was so much in you, and on you, that was right in front of me that I didn’t realize until I began this exercise. Exercise is, of course, the right word. I’ve exercised my attention. I’ve also realized how little attention I pay to what is going on within me. I was grieved by a student death by suicide, and then another death by suicide shortly after, and just kept going as if I don’t need to do something with that. Yet I remember sitting down to write about you, slightly annoyed if I’m honest, because the day was already hard enough and I just wanted to go to bed. But you, my tree, gave me the space I wouldn’t give myself. Thank you for allowing me to write and cry a little. Thank you for giving me the space I didn’t want but desperately needed. Thank you for bearing me through my various seasons as I observed you in yours. And now, a blessing:
I bless you in your humbleness. You are neither the tallest, the widest, nor the most “picturesque,” but the meek shall inherit the earth.
I bless you for creating space. May you, too, be given a wide space to be who you are and to flourish.
I bless you for nourishing our fellow creatures with food to eat and branches on which to rest. May you find rest and nourishment and long life.
I bless you for nourishing my own soul in ways I could not have imagined.
I bless you for teaching me how to pay attention. May you have many more students who learn from you in unexpected ways, and may it bring you great joy.
May you grow down in winter and up in summer.
May you bear much fruit.
May you be like a tree planted by streams of water in a dry and weary land.
May you be remembered even as you have remembered.
Amen.