Tuesday, November 1, 2016

One Tree, One Word, One Day

This morning, while walking my dogs (my writing coach and therapist!), I lamented that there are not more trees in my neighborhood. I carried this thought with me for about a block, until I turned the corner. In front of me, one old, thick tree covered in moss. It struck me how perfect this tree was, or this tree and its moss companion. They are moving, ever so slowly, through life just how they should.

I felt silly, lamenting the paucity of trees, with this perfect tree in front of me. And then, I noticed another tree, and yet another. The dogs did what they needed to; we returned home. I sat in my chair, wrote a bit on the introduction for an edited book I am working on. I wrote this. My home is warm. The sky is grey here in Tacoma, just how I love it, just how it is supposed to be. I am loved. I give love. I have help. I am of service. There is that tree. There is writing. There is today. 

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