Becoming Tree-Like

 

“Suddenly there it is in silhouette - a single, noble winter tree, black against the pale sky. You stop because you must. What is so compelling here? There is a magnificent, creative loneliness in it - the way it stands isolated in the wide reaches of the fields, darkly melancholy. There is struggle in the twisted writhing branches, as if growth and survival have not been easily come by. There is strength in the way it has been exposed mercilessly to the storms. Yet is has endured, taking on dignity with the visitations of frost, snow, and ice. There is acceptance in its open display of imperfection. Most of all…there is honesty in the starkness of a winter tree. Stripped of all pretense and embellishment, nothing is there but the tree’s own truth. Before the eyes of all it lives the way it is - nothing more. In its utter, exposed openness it is a kind of prayer.” Mary Jean Irion

This is the image and prayer I contemplating in this wilderness of Lent. It speaks eloquently and resoundingly to me! 

In its “magnificent, creative loneliness” I feel a connection with all creation as well as a gentle hope.

I want to be like the tree.

I want to embody endurance and openness, dark melancholy and something compelling, like truth stripped of pretense.

And…I want to recognize the dignity which the tree represents in every other creature. 

Accepting the imperfection is always the hardest part for me and yet I return again and again to the stillness of forgiveness in that midst.

I believe the “struggle in the twisted writhing branches” is like the struggle of “good trouble”, not invited or even caused but welcomed as a stranger.

From this acceptance comes growth, toward the sky!