Humility in the Trees

Early one morning before the sun came up, I was out walking in the field and talking to Hashem. Everything around me looked so enchanted. I was especially admiring His trees and how each one was so different from the next. I noticed that some trees were in full bloom; branches bedazzled with vibrant, colorful leaves, while others looked like they had seen better days, as their leaves were dry, wilted and in the process of falling off. Still, no matter what stage they were in, each tree was perfectly bent in its own direction assuming its now unique shape and size.

Next thing I knew, the moon caught my eye. Something was different about it that morning. I couldn’t stop staring at it.  It was glowing so beautifully; yet, it almost looked like there was a misty coat of oil smudging its surface. As I walked along, my eyes trained on its light, a dense bouquet of leaves on a tall tree suddenly blocked my view. The same leaves that moments before were so lush and beautiful had suddenly become an obstruction, a hindrance to me, blocking my most beautiful view of the moon. The light simply could not get through its gargantuan mass of leaves.

I continued walking past that big tall tree until I was able to see that magical, surreal, early morning glow again. I just kept on staring at it, walking, and admiring it until I had the most amazing view, striking in magnificence. It was the sight of the moon behind a tree that was barren and leafless. Skeletal-like, the tree could have been a witch with pointy cooked fingers, but now it was playing the part of a vine-like frame, etching the moon into elegance.

All the other surrounding trees with their big, fluffy leaves, all decked out for Fall, standing so proud and full of themselves, suddenly reminded me of a band of prom queens with puffed up dresses, too much lipstick and an abundance of jewelry: beautiful, but demanding a high price. They left no room for the light to shine through.

This image immediately triggered a memory of the final days of my father’s life. He was in the hospital and had nothing left but his last few breaths. No fancy clothes on his body, no nice shoes on his feet, no color in his cheeks, no hair on his head, no wallet in his pocket, no ring on his finger, no food in his belly, no fat on his bones, no business acquisitions on his mind. Nothing but the most basic of basics that life had to offer: a hospital gown to shroud his frame and a few tubes in his nose to help sustain him. He was like a tree with bare branches after all his leaves had fallen away.  And yet, the most brilliant light radiated from him. Without all of the worldly things and thoughts that used to surrounded him and take up space, the light of G-d had more space to shine through. And everyone around him was able to see it.

It can be sad to watch a tree wither.  And it’s heartbreaking to watch a person’s life force fade. But these processes are an essential part of life.  It’s these transitions from one phase to another that help us reflect on our progress and purpose, and it’s dying that teaches us so much about living.

As living, pleasure seeking, comfort craving beings, we can get easily obsessed with wanting material possessions. We tend to mistakenly think these acquisitions are going to bring us happiness or fulfillment so we work hard to attain them. We use our precious life energy to chase things down but sometimes we pursue them for the wrong reasons. And when we do, our proliferation of ‘stuff’ blocks the true light.

I once heard a quote that can be a good litmus test to see if we are chasing after things for the wrong reasons, “We buy things we don’t need, with money we don’t have, to impress people we don’t like.” Of course we need things and shouldn’t feel bad about ourselves when we want them. Many things truly enhance our quality of life and our connection to Hashem.  But when faced with those extra things that the world tries to market to us, we should ask ourselves why we want them. Do we really need them? Or do we want them only to make someone else jealous, to fill a void, or to show off?

In many situations less is more. Now if only I could put this wisdom into action instead of wanting another useless bracelet that I just saw at the mall!