Day Two: The Dead and Hanging Leaf

I awoke, feeling rested, happy, healthy. After a snow-filled trek to the bathrooms, and a stop at the office, I went back to my hermitage feeling full of the goodwill and warmth of the main building, along with a carafe of coffee (tea can be for later!), a full water bottle, and an empty bladder. I strode energetically back to my cabin to do yoga or read or meditate or whatever the heck I wanted, actually. The luxury of this freedom and self-care was only slightly dampened by my ever-present awareness that I had in fact brought more than a backpack full of thesis readings and books. But I reassured myself work was not what I had come to do, it was there for me if I felt the desire to work. At my last retreat, I felt so rested and cared for that my creativity and industry were bursting at the seams. If I felt that way again, my things would be here. And if I didn’t, the goal was to be ok with that.


So I burrowed into the recliner by the door with my Merton book, thinking over the now foreign-seeming events of last night. God bless a good night of rest. And I looked out the window at a pair of withered, brown leaves, hanging from a tree. They shook and blew in the wind, and I marveled that this one twig was the only one on the whole tree that hadn’t fallen with winter. At first I thought how strong they must be, and then looking again at their impoverished, shivering circumstance, I realized how clear it was that they weren’t meant to be there any longer. These two pock marked and wrinkled leaves simply hadn’t found a way to let go, even though what they held on to brought them no joy, peace, or community with the rest of the forest. (Ok, that part I’m projecting, but, go with me here). Initially eager to identify with their strength, I now realized I still in fact had plenty to relate to, as they shuddered in the wind, too strong, or perhaps too weak to fall to the ground and begin again. They are my reminder, I am not here to cling, I am here to be a part of something bigger than myself, and that can only happen when I let go of what I think I am, who I think I need to be, where I came from, to embrace the new whole of possibility.