Mindful Monday Mission

I’m a tad bit late getting this post out to you today because I decided to give myself a break.  Self-care is not an over-rated concept.

Why am I working on taking care of myself?  I’m coming off one of those weekends that wipes you out emotionally.  I was with fabulous people and was exactly where I wanted to be, but the emotional commitment to be present there touched a whole bunch of core issues for me.

I felt like this Crepe Myrtle tree that I saw on my walk this morning.

Can you see how the bark has thinned and been worn smooth?  It looks exposed, doesn’t it?  That’s exactly how I felt this weekend, and continue to feel.

And notice in the apex of the tree that  a branch has either broken or was sawed off.  Up close, it looks like a scabbed-over wound.  Again, that’s my feeling as I walk through this week of the first anniversary of my mother’s death.

But what caught my eye and I hope you can see, is the new growth coming out of the wounded area of the tree.  Growth that is happening in spite of all the surrounding tissue and bark looking so vulnerable.

Hmmm . . . nature is a great teacher . . . if we but take time to observe . . . and live with our senses wide open (no matter how raw we feel).

That’s my mission today.  Can you describe yours as it relates to your senses?

 

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2 Comments

  1. Hi Beth,

    My heart goes out to you, it is always difficult when these types of anniversaries arrive. Nature does teach us so much when we take the time to notice. When we’ve had the wild fires in California in the past years, it is reassuring to notice the new trees beginning to pop through the burned hillsides after a period of time. It reminds us that life can and will renew itself.

  2. Beth Wilson says:

    You are so right about the renewal of life, Cathy. I’m actually thinking of that very thing as I take a break from writing my Thursday post–on the actual anniversary date. Here’s what is so cool–in the midst of a day of heavy grieving, I’ve been given the gift of spending the afternoon with a terrific 11-year-old boy named Oury. We played at Lego Land and later, after a dinner of burgers and fries, we’ll play Monopoly, coincidentally a game Mom loved to play. Life is give and take, the balance of passings and beginnings. I understand that I am blessed by both.

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