Sit Under a Tree and Learn from Nature

A feeling of discomfort that I know only too well. It’s the same feeling that comes on Sunday evening when another week beckons at the office. The same feeling that comes when the long-awaited annual two-week vacation is almost over. I remember exactly the same feeling a few years ago when I was on a trip – I was sitting in a small cafe in Bali when I realized that I had half of my trip behind me. It hit me hard. The Party would be over soon. The glass was more empty than full.

This feeling, one way or another, has accompanied me for most of my mature life. Now that I’m sitting in my favorite place under that old tree, I can feel it again. The days are getting shorter and colder. Soon the trees will be bare. I can’t say exactly, but it feels like the sand of time is running out. There is a hollow feeling in my chest.

For years, I would go to great lengths to avoid this feeling. I would take care of a mundane task. I was working out, working out, reading, meeting my friends, texting someone… anyone, open a bottle of plonk, watch another box set, go for a beer, even meditate or practice Yoga. Anything to stun me and escape this feeling.

No matter what I did, the Feeling never really went away. He’s still here. I don’t think I’m alone. I think most of us spend our whole lives running away in one way or another.

As I sit, I feel the gentle Breeze on my skin. I can hear the leaves stirring gently. The blue sky above invites a broader perspective. It’s not just about me. I am just an insignificant blot in the overall picture. I am a small part of a much larger whole. The tree I’m sitting under has been here for a long time and will probably be there long after I’m gone. I feel a softening, a relaxation. I know this Place. I feel safe here. I don’t need to run anymore. I don’t need to escape this feeling or avoid it. I can just sit quietly here and be exactly as she is with my experience.

A fear that if I die, I have no longer lived my own life. Maybe I didn’t fulfill my purpose.

When the Plane tree under which I am sitting finally dies, it will have fulfilled its purpose. It should not be oak, beech or ash. He should become a Plane tree and he will die if he did.

We always think that we have more “time”.

It’s time for a change. It’s time to be true to ourselves. It’s time to be brave. It’s time to do what we’ve always wanted to do.

Deep down, we may know that we are on the wrong track. There must be more to life than that? We tell ourselves that we still have time.

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published.