This is what you shall do

I read Whitman’s poem last night. Really a worthwhile read.

This is what you shall do:
Love the earth and sun and the animals,
Despise riches, give alms to everyone that asks,
Stand up for the stupid and crazy,
Devote your income and labors to others,
Hate tyrants, argue not concerning God,
Have patience and indulgence toward the people,
Take off your hat to nothing known or unknown,
Or to any man or number of men,
Go freely with powerful uneducated persons,
And with the young and with the mothers of families,
Read these leaves in the open air,
Every season of every year of your life,
Reexamine all you have been told,
At school at church or in any book,
Dismiss whatever insults your own soul,
And your very flesh shall be a great poem,
And have the richest fluency not only in its words,
But in the silent lines of its lips and face,
And between the lashes of your eyes,
And in every motion and joint of your body.

A New Year’s Message from a Dying Tree

This picture is emblematic of how Nature teaches lessons. This tree appears dead at first glance, but there is that one living branch, somehow surviving out of a bole that is in the process of decay. 

The more I’m in the woods, the more I see how closely intertwined death and decay are with growth and abundance. It’s relatively obvious that decay feeds life; moldering earth gives birth to abundant plants.  

But this picture offers something deeper: the stubbornness of growth, the overpowering will of life and creation even amidst its likely end. 

It is an appropriate lesson for a new year. Turned into a metaphor, perhaps that tree is a cherished dream long held that is beginning to slip away. But there is that one branch that still lives, if you focus your energy and passion on it.  

May you find your dreams and focus your will on what you want and need in 2023.