Modern humans: we're often in a hurry to start the new, move forward, go for our dreams. While this may be positive, in all the rush towards "progress," do we pause long enough to gain wisdom from what we've created in the past?
Here in the Pacific Northwest Coastal area, I've been introduced to the ecological necessity of "nurse logs." These old logs nurture and help develop the seedlings of future trees with their own dead bodies. Literally. From naturalist David Attenbourough : “A seed from a neighboring tree that lands on [a large dead tree can] thus get sufficient light to germinate. Being perched there brings another advantage: the bark of the [dead] tree is very fibrous and holds moisture like a sponge so the young plant does not lack for water. As the seedling sprouts, it sends down roots. They grow over...the log and down into the rich soil beneath. As they gain strength, these roots thicken. While they are doing so, fungi are feasting in the wood of the log. Slowly it rots and begins to crumble away providing more sustenance for the young trees. After several decades, the log has been reduced to moldering fragments. But the young seedlings still hold their position high above the ferns for their roots have now become so thick, they support them like stilts.”
The old supporting the new: in the waning days of 2016, I may not remember all the many moments of aha! and breakthroughs, but I'll take time to reflect on them anyway. As well, I'll take time to do a quiet life review in order to note that all of my life's adventures--whether "negative" or "positive," painful or joyful, embarrassing, proud, monumental, small, productive, destructive, loving, cranky, et al--have supported this moment, and my future moments. All of them. No exceptions.
Proving once again (to me, anyway) that there really is no death--only a changing of forms.
Wishing you a reflective, peace-filled journey. Elke