"After you have exhausted what there is in business, politics, conviviality,
and so on - have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear -
what remains? Nature remains." ~Walt Whitman
and so on - have found that none of these finally satisfy, or permanently wear -
what remains? Nature remains." ~Walt Whitman
When I was a child, I loved to climb trees. I was trapped in a home where domestic violence and abuse occurred daily. But climbing, reaching, climbing high into a tree, that is where I could relax and breath. I was free, as I experienced each tree as being alive and aware, helpful in my efforts at escape, and a guardian of my invisibility from hell below.
From that vantage point, I was safe. I watched as the world and her people went about their social and business lives. Perhaps it was the magical thinking of childhood--or maybe just magical me--but I saw through the walls of the homes in my neighborhood; there were no secrets. Yet vision is a two-edged sword: in loneliness I watched as the other children played happily far below, their sweet laughter sad and untouchable and fatal. High up, this heart beat against the breast of a tree and longed for a place among the laughter. But greater than longing was my fear of belonging, and so I trusted only nature, yet remained distantly curious about this drama of humans.
Compelling motivation for my professional career as a psychotherapist.
Decades later, I'm still in that tree. Watching. Curious. The difference now is that after having walked a path--a very long path--of self-awareness and acceptance, there is some insight that focuses my vision. As it turns out, you're never really wrong about yourself, wherever you are along this path. I still understand and trust trees, experience my greatest happiness when walking, hiking, or climbing quietly anywhere nature. She is my church, my lover, and my Mother's breast. In writing, I seek to honor her and be completely true to myself. I am allowing myself to plant, garden my spirit, and fully blossom--this is the wisdom from the cold winter's morning: Let go, let die what is dying, go deeply within and discover the fields that are fallow. Renewed, empty, longing for new seeds, life welcomes you home. Sow the new seeds mindfully and in harmony with life.
From that vantage point, I was safe. I watched as the world and her people went about their social and business lives. Perhaps it was the magical thinking of childhood--or maybe just magical me--but I saw through the walls of the homes in my neighborhood; there were no secrets. Yet vision is a two-edged sword: in loneliness I watched as the other children played happily far below, their sweet laughter sad and untouchable and fatal. High up, this heart beat against the breast of a tree and longed for a place among the laughter. But greater than longing was my fear of belonging, and so I trusted only nature, yet remained distantly curious about this drama of humans.
Compelling motivation for my professional career as a psychotherapist.
Decades later, I'm still in that tree. Watching. Curious. The difference now is that after having walked a path--a very long path--of self-awareness and acceptance, there is some insight that focuses my vision. As it turns out, you're never really wrong about yourself, wherever you are along this path. I still understand and trust trees, experience my greatest happiness when walking, hiking, or climbing quietly anywhere nature. She is my church, my lover, and my Mother's breast. In writing, I seek to honor her and be completely true to myself. I am allowing myself to plant, garden my spirit, and fully blossom--this is the wisdom from the cold winter's morning: Let go, let die what is dying, go deeply within and discover the fields that are fallow. Renewed, empty, longing for new seeds, life welcomes you home. Sow the new seeds mindfully and in harmony with life.