The Dead Tree

 

I was headed to work in Tehachapi Monday morning. It was heavily overcast. The mountains were not visible from a distance like they usually are. I was glancing around as we passed by orchards and farms before approaching the uphill climb. In one of the orange orchards one tree caught my attention. It had browned all over and stood out amongst the surrounding green trees. This tree was dead. It reminded me of a ficus tree that stands in front of my house. That tree is dying. It is just a matter of time before it begins to collapse. 

My thoughts drifted to the pets in our family that we lost when I was growing up and more recently my sister’s dog who had to be put down to end its suffering. 

Part of personal growing up has been the changing perception towards death. Death of loved ones, people known to me, or even death of people not known to me, but importantly the reaction to the passing away of people who meant something to me. Grief and sadness do occur as immediate natural reactions now like before but these are short and less intense. What lingers much longer and feels more intensely is a sense of deep gratitude. 

We often don’t take time to observe the finer dynamics that occur in our interactions with people in our lives. How they shape us each day. How we adapt ourselves through these interactions. How the smallest of these seemingly unimportant moments enrich our lives. How the goodness in them is constantly in a giving mode through these interactions and yet, in the crazy bid to keep pace with life, we stupidly become accustomed to taking these for granted. The second folly that occurs from us,as we avail of the goodness of the people around us, is the dependency that we subconsciously acquire, physical, emotional or both. With these dependencies, without our knowledge, people become means to an end. Wants become needs. 

One of the benefits of spiritual growth has been to identify the avenues of physical and emotional dependence and outgrow it with a conscious effort. Perhaps this deliberate separation is what has created more room for gratitude in the mind because the other person’s goodness is now more visible from that distance. 

Take it one step further. When the spiritual awakening allows for recognizing the eternal divine presence in all creation, you begin to weigh everything in the same measure as you do your human companions. Animals, birds, trees, flowers, fruits, rivers, oceans, mountains, clouds, rocks, walls of your home, furniture, clothing, food, water, books, car, phone. Everything. You recognize the purpose each entity is serving and the natural reaction becomes a feeling of gratitude. Several undesirable traits like entitlement, need, attachment/dependency, greed, compulsiveness fall off. You experience freedom in its healthiest form and afford the same freedom to the other entity. 

When I saw that dead tree from the moving car this morning, it occurred to me that this tree must have borne juicy fruit season after season for so many years until it’s time on earth was done. Its allowance for a visible presence was coming to an end. It stood there to remind me of something deeply reverential. The beauty in quiet acceptance of the finitude of life, along with a seamless presence of gratitude for that life. 

The pets we lost created sadness and pain when they left. The emotional dependence on them at the time precluded the full experience of gratitude. Today after many years my mind is recognizing the gratitude I owe them for the unconditional love and joy they brought for us to experience while they lived. 

The tree outside my house has stood there providing shade, protecting us from the intense heat of summer for nearly two decades. Its life is soon coming to a close. Sadness is inevitable but that will be forever replaced with gratitude and remembrance. 

I can’t begin to enumerate the endless list of people, plants, animals and objects that have similarly, very quietly, enriched my life thus far. I just wasn’t equipped earlier to observe closely and experience the gratitude. Yet the ability to recognize and appreciate it now is a testament to the growing up.

 

The lifeless orange tree had taught me something profound about life. Can I consider it lifeless? It is perhaps the best example of the fact that every entity is a manifestation of the eternal divine presence. Living and non-living are separations only in name. 

The saree I wore to work yesterday was a linen with jamdani motifs in its pallu. Paired it with a cotton Ajrakh print blouse. 

Sharing some pictures taken from the car. The sky was beginning to clear somewhat as we approached Tehachapi. 

The tree that led me into reflection couldn’t be captured in the camera because I wasn’t ready with my camera when I spotted it. But it is etched in my memory forever. If it hasn’t been removed from the place by the time I’m in the area again I’ll take the picture and add it in this space. 

That’s the tree in this post. We were on the road again on Saturday and could stop briefly to get a photo.