Hope

I look out again from the hospital window. 

Last night the storm raged; torrential, violent rains and winds doing their best to uproot the vulnerable trees from the earth, or minimally bend them in half until they cower under the bullying of the squall. Yet now, brown and barren from winter’s slumber, these same trees reach towards the morning sky, branches like fingers trying to catch the clouds.  I wonder… if I went out and listened carefully, would I hear whispered giggles as their boughs played like gleeful children?

The sight of this peaceful sky, warmed by the near-spring sun, causes me to spontaneously breathe deeply and loosen my body and mind’s tight grip on current circumstances.  The word “hope” rises to the surface of my brain.  These trees, though wind-swept and seemingly lifeless, shroud the vital sap of renewal surging just under their surface, patiently waiting for their time to burst forth in buds, blooms and colorful new life. They are a testament to patient mindfulness, to releasing their control and honoring the intentionality of their season.

The lesson is not wasted.