Seventy-Seven.

77:366

77:366

This is not simply a photograph of a damaged tree in a cemetery.  This is a photograph of the day Resistance won.  Let me explain…

The Crest Haven Memorial Park cemetery is about a stone’s throw from our house, and the southeast corner of the cemetery is adjacent to a road intersection that we travel through just about every time we leave the house.  This beautiful weeping willow is prominently placed in that same corner of the cemetery.  There is not a time that anybody goes through the intersection where their eyes will not meet this tree in some way, either consciously or subconsciously.  I enjoy looking at this tree, and never would have guessed it was ready to make a major sacrifice to teach me about life.  Here is what happened:

About a month or so ago, I realized that this tree would make for a beautiful entry in this blog once Spring comes around and the tree begins to bloom.  How excited I was!  …And then about two or three weeks ago a storm came through our quiet town and this tree, which has obviously survived many, many storms in the past- including Hurricane Sandy, suffered a strain it was no longer able to bear and lost one of it’s major limbs. 

“DAMMIT!” …I said to myself.  : )

That storm was the day Resistance won.  Resistance is my archenemy.  It is all of ours, really, but I’ll only speak about myself here.  My resistance to take a photograph the day I had the idea led me to this present world where I will never have a picture of the tree as I saw it every day, up until about two or three weeks ago. 

Resistance uses many tools to fight us.  In this case, it used reasoning and rational justifications about why I should not photograph the tree when I first had the idea to photograph it, and the result was I permanently lost the opportunity to do so.  Specifically, I told myself it would have more color and beauty later- but I failed to see that sometimes, later never arrives.

The cemetery does not plan to remove the tree, but that does not matter.  I will not live long enough to see the limb grow again, nor will it grow in the same form as I knew it to be… not so long ago.  Procrastination and rationalization are a soldiers in Resistance’s army, and they served their leader well. 

However, Resistance won the battle but not the war.  Today is the day I won.  Today I decided the tree has even more character than I knew it to have just a short month ago. 

Today I photographed the painful scar unleashed upon the tree by the procrastination soldier and with it, I say scars are lessons learned- and never forgot.

— -W.

 

The limb changed but much else did not:  The tree still grows and begins to bloom on a beautiful Saturday morning.  The grass is still green and the sky is blue.  The tree still stands in that southeastern corner of the cemetery, and I still traverse the adjoining intersection nearly every time I leave the house.  And I will continue to see that scar- which faces the intersection directly, as if to underscore its point, and I will remember the lesson my archenemy taught me that day.

Carpe Diem.

 


I certainly wish I could take credit for coming up with the understanding of Resistance’s attack on us and our creativity, but I must acknowledge that credit is rightly due to Steven Pressfield, the author of “The War of Art,” 2002, Grand Central Publishing- New York, NY.

This book was a gift to me, and I’d like to pay it forward by recommending it to everyone in the world.  Check your local library.  : )

One final tip:  you can pan and zoom photos on your phone if you do not click on them first, but the photographs on all posts are able to be clicked for full size viewing when you view this website on your computer browser.  Enjoy!

 

 

 

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