Tag: Eckhart Tolle

The Elegance of the Season of Now

My mother, daughter, and I stand next to one another in front of a sunny window on a January day. The trees outside are bare on this crisp and clear afternoon. “The trees will be so pretty in the spring,” I say, instantly regretting my words.

I’m learning to appreciate the elegance of the moment in which I find myself. I think of a saying I’ve always loved, “Yesterday is history. Tomorrow is a mystery. Today is a gift…that’s why they call it the present.”

Like rings marking the age of a tree, the figures in the hazy reflection represent three distinct generations. Each woman feels a certain amount of relief and discomfort about the season she is in. They all fight the urge to get stuck reminiscing the past or dreaming of the future.

My mother is the most deeply rooted of us. She is a towhead little girl, a beautiful bride, a young mother, a devoted grandmother, and a grieving widow. She says she didn’t expect to live so long and doesn’t want to be a burden. How I wish she understood she’s no more a burden than a stately tree providing solace, shade, beauty, and grace.

I’m part of the sandwich generation, those of us firmly in the middle of adult children we still worry about and parents who need our care. I’m retired now, leaving me to find identity within my relationships. I am a little tired and no longer young, but I am still growing.

At thirty-one, my daughter is in full bloom. She faces the daily excitement and anxiety of a demanding profession in a bustling city. She is a newlywed and first-time homeowner still unsure if she will choose to become a mother herself. If not unaware, she is at least indifferent to her skin so soft and supple, her body so long and lithe, her mind so sharp and strong.

The three of us stand silent, deep in our individual and collective thoughts. The significance of our coming together for just a moment to look out the window at the trees, mysteriously dormant yet pulsing with life, is palpable.

The trees stand strong, bold, and elegant against the bright blue sky. They hold both the memory and the promise of green leaves and fresh blossoms, but on this cold winter day they are living fully in the season of now. §

“Realize deeply that the present moment is all you ever have.” 
~Eckhart Tolle

The Elegance of Letting Go

About this time every year, nature gently reminds us of the elegance of letting go. Colorful falling leaves release their hold and dance and twirl in the autumn wind, gracefully showing us the way.

There’s a scientific reason deciduous trees lose their leaves in winter. It’s a process called abscission. Rather than fruitlessly expend energy during the harsh winter months, trees shed their leaves to conserve resources. The process helps trees retain water and keeps them from blowing over. As a bonus, fallen leaves add replenishing nutrients to the soil. In a beautiful act of self-preservation, trees let go in order to stay healthy and alive. 

The trees’ annual decluttering process might initially inspire us to let go of a few material things ourselves. Broken things. Meaningless things. Uncomfortable things. Too many things. Perfectly wonderful things that no longer suit our season of life.

It’s no easy task to rake all our physical clutter into a big pile like so many fallen leaves. Harder still is letting go of intangible things that clutter our hearts and minds. As we watch the autumn leaves cut loose and fly, what can we let go of to help protect, replenish, and nurture the very root of our being? 

Ancient Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu said, “When I let go of what I am, I become what I might be.” We convince ourselves we must tightly cling to old memories, thoughts, and behaviors, and we spend precious energy feeding them and keeping them alive. Letting them go finally frees us to rest, grow stronger, and be happier. 

If I was still teaching, I would assign us to draw a tree with falling leaves. On each leaf, we’d write something we’re ready to let go. Those little leaves would probably hold some very powerful words like worry, resentment, guilt, hurt, and anger. What would you write on your leaves? 

Poet May Sarton wrote, “I think of trees and how simply they let go, let fall the riches of a season, how without grief (it seems) they can let go and go deep into their roots for renewal and sleep. Imitate the trees.” Autumn is such a beautiful time of year. Let’s follow its lead and elegantly let go in preparation for a season of thanksgiving, peace, and hope. §

“Sometimes letting things go is an act of far greater power than defending or hanging on.” ~ Eckhart Tolle