“Listen to the trees as they sway in the wind. Their leaves are telling secrets. Their bark sings songs of olden days as it grows around the trunks. And their roots give names to all things. Their language has been lost. But not the gestures.” – Vera Nazarian, The Perpetual Calendar of Inspiration

I have the good fortune to live near a wooded area. As I look out my family room windows, I am entranced by the beauty of of the October trees looking back at me. These majestic, silent spectators stand tall and strong dressed in their autumn finery. While it may seem as though they change over night, I have observed that leaves turn slowly. At first the color appears in small patches, then it gradually covers the whole leaf. Each leaf allows this transformation to occur in its own time. Before you know it, the entire tree has morphed from lush green to glorious crimson or golden yellow.  When the winds blow and the rains fall, the tree drops its leaves with ease, knowing new buds will take their places in the Spring.

We can learn much from trees as we witness their metamorphosis. They encourage us to welcome change into our lives, to be patient during the process, to drop what no longer serves us and to make space for something new to emerge.  

The next time you are crunching through a pile of leaves, give some thought to what no longer serves you and then let it fall away. Who knows what may come rushing in to fill the void. It could be something wonderful.

“He who has not looked on sorrow will never see joy.” Kahlil Gibran

During the last two weeks, friends of mine have experienced a variety of life changing events –  the birth of a first grandchild, the wedding of a son, serious illness of a mother and death of a father.  The juxtaposition of these events got me thinking about the joys and sorrows that define our human experience.

We are blessed to feel the elation of a new baby joining our family as well as the joy of two people beginning a life together  These events fill our lives with excitement and meaning. At these times, we often look more closely at new possibilities in our own lives and our commitments to ourselves and those we love.  Our family story continues in the life of a new baby and in the lives of a new bride and groom. The world seems “right” and we are happy.

Illness is difficult because we don’t want to see those we love in pain. It is however, an opportunity for us to develop compassion and to demonstrate our love by caring for our loved one’s needs. This can be challenging, but can also add depth to our soul. Of course the death of a loved one, especially a father is difficult to bear. When we lose a parent, we lose a piece of our story. This loss forces us to redefine ourselves and our place in the world.

Each of these experiences brings with it a gift to be treasured. It is easy to see in the case of a baby or wedding, but in the illness or death of a loved one – not so much. We have to dig a little deeper to find it. The gift is hidden in the pain and sadness, just where it hurts the most. That gift is a more compassionate and loving heart. Without it, we could not truly appreciate the joy and beauty in our lives. Without it we could not have a real human experience.