A tree lives alone in a field near my house.
I run or walk by this tree many times per week. Sometimes, I keep right on moving. Occasionally I stop and take a photo. But I always look at it.
I’m always curious about its mood.
I’ve seen its mood shift each day, sometimes multiple times a day. The season, the weather, the time of day; each of these external forces pressing their will upon the tree and providing background and context. The tree simply internalizes and then reflects.
How could it not?
I used to believe that my understanding of its mood was about it — the tree.
But as part of my great unlearning, I realized that I was leaving out the most important factor affecting the tree’s mood — myself and my story.
As it turns out, my interpretation of the tree’s mood is all about me and my story and less about the tree and its story.
