Do the willows feel guilt for the season they’re in? No, of course not. They carry out their work quietly and methodically and we marvel anew every year. 

Does the squirrel worry about whether he deserves his winter rest? No, of course not. He scurries around collecting acorns, growing fat and satiated, and we praise his resilience. 

So, back to you. Are you sad? Good, be sad. Ride the wave. Learn your way around it.

Are you angry or mournful or scared or some other emotion entirely? Good, let yourself be all those things. Half the year the willow tree is spindly and raw and we do not fault her for it. There have been beautiful days before and there will be beautiful days again.

The other day I lay beneath the oak tree and watched its leaves swirl through the air. How little time I devote to simply being still. I can’t keep track of all the things I’m supposed to be; better to be like the tall grasses by the creek: steady, calm, accepting of the winds. Together they move as one silken mass, a colony that guards the tender grasshoppers and gophers and field mice. Swaying but not yielding—are they content with where they’re sewn? They are rooted; they don’t try to run. Who is their teacher? Who is mine, for that matter?

It’s amazing, the lengths we’ll go to elude our own shadows. I’m no expert, but I’d estimate there are a million people on the run at any given time, me included. The trouble begins when the clouds of delusion dissipate—wherever I go, there I am and all that. 

Imagine if people were as vigilant as dogs. My dog Indigo is still a bit wary of her new home and she’ll only roam the yard if she can clap eyes on me. The other morning it was the coldest it’s been all season—39 degrees—and her breath came out in little puffs. Perhaps the cold invigorated her because she ventured further than normal, scouring the perimeter for weaknesses and errant rabbits. But every few minutes she trotted back to the window where I sat, turning her piercing gaze on me, waiting until I acknowledged her with a wave. She knows her duties and does them without regret or wishful thinking.

Accepting the facts of life rather than trying to outrun them—what a thought!

What if nice things happen to you instead? What if you have enough time for everything you want to do? What if you get a text from someone just as you’re thinking of them? What if summer isn’t over yet? 

What if you make it home just before the storm is unleashed? What if you end up being perfectly healthy? What if you wake up to weather just right for wearing your favorite outfit? What if the plant you thought was dying shoots forth a new stem? 

What if the winter is more mild than anticipated? What if things worked out exactly as they were intended? What if your life is closer to being perfect than you thought?