A Giant Falls

I am here in Mishawaka, IN, my hometown, with my parents -  in my childhood home. A lot has changed since I left here, but I love the things that are still familiar.

Each morning I head down the hill to the St. Joseph River and walk along the banks between two city parks where I spent many of my early summers. During WWII there was a WPA project here that resulted in beautiful stone work all around the city. One of the projects was in Battell Park. It is a rock garden and waterfall from the top of the hill down to the river's edge. Half way down, on either side, are places to stop and rest that we called "thrones". They, too, are constructed of field stone totally befitting the royalty ensconced there. Kings and queens all...

When we ceremoniously made our way to the bottom - with great pomp and circumstance - a low hop over the wall put us underneath a massive weeping willow. It's branches hid us from view, shaded us, and trailed in the current along the bank. Pure magic.

Last week I was walking on the opposite side of the river when I found myself across from the rock garden. Something was off. It looked strange. Then I realized what it was and tears sprang to my eyes. The giant willow was still there - but it had fallen and was lying on its side in the river. An icon of my childhood had succumbed...to what? Old age? Illness? Nature's laws? Treachery?

I sat awhile, pondering the meaning of it all. It may sound crazy but I know it is important - maybe even profound. Here's what I have so far.
I am here with my parents who are 85 and 91. They are doing pretty well, yet, as hard as it is, I must come to grips with the fact that we are in life's final phase. These giants of my life will not live forever. I have been privileged to rest in their shade and protection for almost six decades. The willow in the water made me stop and realize the depth of that blessing.

Things are not always what they seem. I had walked past the willow just a few weeks before and all seemed well. So...no matter how you appear on the outside, if you are being eaten from within - whether from illness, disease, sadness, fear, anger, shame, secrecy, or bitterness - you will fall. It is only a matter of time. Take care of what you can - now. It would be my honor to help you.

Pay attention. Perhaps the willow fell because the ground beneath it was washed away. Maybe the root system couldn't hold on. What if it just got off balance and reached the proverbial tipping point, when a good pruning could have fixed it?

What comes up for you as you read this account? What would you add to my list? Please take a moment and share your thoughts - whatever they may be. It doesn't have to be about my willow tree. Just listen to the voice that is calling you into motion.

Blessings,
Beth

Vulnerability = Courage

Famed shame researcher Brene Brown is a TED fellow who says vulnerability is our most accurate measure of courage and is the birthplace of innovation, creativity, and change. I agree. Treat yourself to these two short videos!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=X4Qm9cGRub0

http://www.ted.com/talks/brene_brown_listening_to_shame.html

Blessings,
Beth