There is a proverb that says, “He who wants to rule the world should first grow a small garden.”
Based upon experience, that act will teach a lot, including humility.
I keep this flowering apricot as a deep lessons. It is old. It is scarred. Some portions are dead. It has dieback. Yet in all these years, it has been the first to bloom. When all other dreams and trees lay dormant, it shows me the possibility each year.
From something almost grotesque comes beauty. Each year it never fails to receive my stillness and appreciation. And each year, I remember what it whispers, “I am living. I am dying. I am living. I am dying. I am living.”
I find wisdom and peace in that. It is not negative at all. It is all about reaching for the beauty still to be found, no matter how gnarled I become. It is a perfect voice coming through nature.
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