My Life As A Tree

There was a sapling long ago

                                                            Planted in the ground to grow

                                                            The blowing of the raging wind

                                                            Taught the sapling how to bend

                                                            As the rain came pouring down

                                                            The sapling learned to grip the ground

                                                            As the sun rose in the sky

                                                            The sapling raised its branches high

                                                            Now the sapling is a tree

                                                            Standing here and shading me



I have always been fascinated by trees.  When they first start out they simply like a stick in the mud.  When they are first planted they need lots of water, sunshine and tender loving care.  Often while they are still young they are staked or tied off to help them stand against the wind.  As they grow, branches grow in different directions.  Sometimes lightning may split the trunk and both parts continue to grow.  After a few years, it is no longer the perfect little sapling first planted.

It is a lot like life.  When we are born we are perfect.  The first few years, we are protected and nurtured.  And then we go into the world and start getting bumps and bruises.  Sometimes our branches get bent or broken.  Sometimes we make the wrong decisions.  Some things can be undone.  Most cannot, so we learn to grow anyway.  When I look at a tree, I see all the forks as decision points in my life.  I see some things that I have allowed to be a major part of my life and become a part of my trunk.  I see some things that I tried but they didn't really fit so the growth was stunted.  Sometimes a raging wind has broken off branches. 

When I look at my life, I often wonder who I would be had I made different choices.  Who would I be if I had never made a wrong decision?  Why couldn't I be perfect?  As I was reading an email from a dear friend today, the answer came to me.  My imperfections, my scars, my tears, my pain are all part of what makes me exactly who I am.  My imperfections give me character and make me a character.  And with the love of those around me, and by loving myself, I am as perfect as I can be today.  Tomorrow I will be more perfect. I will be standing strong.

Copyright 2011 Ramblings by Dawn.  All rights reserved.