Gingko Trees in the Fall: Thursday's Reflection

NOTE: I am going to take a short break--a fall break--from posting. I will return on Tuesday, November 12.


"Today is the day," announced my husband.

A few days before he had learned that gingko trees all drop their leaves at the same time--all their leaves--and as I drove through the neighborhood to meet a friend, I discovered that seemed to be true. 

The leaves on some of the gingko trees were yellow-gold and others were still summer green. That made no difference. The gingko trees were blithely letting go of all their leaves, and cars and streets were covered in piles of shed leaves. 








Now you know I love a metaphor, and this one is obvious, but too good to pass up. 

I wonder what leaves I need to shed. Why shouldn't today be the day?
What collection of past hurts and slights need to go?
What painful memories need to be transformed into a new season?
What illusions and denials need to float away?
What attachments need to disconnect?
What would happen if my branches were allowed to breathe and open to the sun? 
What would be possible if I graciously and gracefully created space in my life for new growth? 
What stories have been told over and over again without new understanding? How would it feel to write a new story? 


How odd it would be to see a gingko tree in the Minnesota winter still holding onto all its leaves. Wouldn't we wonder what was wrong with that tree? Well, I need to ask myself that same question. Here you are, Nancy, 70 plus years, in the autumn of your life, how are you preparing for your life's winter?

I would like these years to feel lighter. 
I would like more emotional and spiritual space in which my essence can thrive. 
I would like to be the tree I was created to be. 

I think that means letting go of the leaves that no longer serve me or those who love me; the leaves that weigh me down, instead of giving me life. 

So, why not let today be the day. 

To close, here is an unpublished poem by visual artist Janet Higgins, who is in my writing group. You can often see her work at Highpoint Center for Printmaking. Thanks,Janet, for allowing me to share this poem. 

      Time -- like a River --
      Freezes, Cracks and Falls
      Around my head....
      Scattering illusions and
      Whispering secrets from a
      Time almost forgotten --
      Re-member the path to
      The Garden...
                         

An Invitation
Is today the day for you? I would love to know. 

Highpoint Center for Printmaking