Essay
All the leaves are brown…or are they?
As I walk on the gravel and dirt path in the park, I glance ahead and see that both sides of the pathway are lined with impressive piles of brown leaves. However, if I keep my eye on a spot in an upcoming pile, I notice that the leaves are not all brown at all. They are green, yellow, red, and orange. They are mottled, torn, intact and disfigured. And yes, some are just plain brown.
The other day, I found what I thought was the perfect leaf. It was from a Japanese maple, I believe, and it was beautifully uniform in its bright but somehow deep red tones. I carried it home and then put it down carelessly on a table in the laundry room while I went about my day. When I found it a few days later, it was curled up and mottled, dark brown and all dried out.
I thought about it and decided that the leaf was still perfect. It was just doing what it is supposed to do; budding, growing, thriving, then turning, falling and drying up to go back into the earth from whence it came. Still, I rued my perfect leaf.
So often, in life, we also strive to be perfect. We compare and contrast. We criticize and tweak. We make what we think are improvements which sometimes turn out not to be better, after all. And somehow, we cannot easily accept the passage of time and the mandatory rituals of the life with which we have been blessed.
We will have different stages of growth and decline. So will our children, our parents, our friends and our loved ones. We can celebrate where they are, and help them highlight what is most beautiful, and we cannot change the passage of time or the inevitable march of life onward toward death.
So, I try to appreciate every perfect imperfect leaf and every perfect imperfect person. I want to enjoy who they are and whatever stage of life they may be in. I want to help them feel joyful, loved and secure in their personal dignity until their very last minutes as living beings on this earth.
This is my mission. Please contact me if you believe I can be of service to you as you make your way.
With loving intention,
Nancy
October 28, 2024