“We must be willing to let go of the life we’ve planned, so as to have the life that is waiting for us.” ~ Joseph Cambell
(My favorite view in the back yard)
There are pecan trees all over our land at the new house. They aren’t native to this area, apparently, but were planted long ago and have since spread across these woods. Witnessing the life cycles of plants that I am no longer familiar with is exciting. Each day we go for a hike and observe what is changing around us - listening to the stories of the plants and this land.
Right after we first arrived here, the pecan tree branches were heavy with bright green husks with newly formed pecans growing inside. A few weeks later, pecan husks started falling from the sky, landing on the soft earth with a thud. I could barely contain my excitement. I ran to look under the trees and unopened husks were lying all over the ground. “What a waste!” I cried. Perfectly good pecan babies were lying all over the ground, never to see their full potential. I pondered this performance for weeks, wondering why it should be so and wishing those husks had stayed on a little longer. Shortly thereafter, perfectly formed pecans started falling from the branches without the husks, a feast ready to be cured and eaten.
I learned this past weekend that when the weather turns cool and fall is upon us, the pecan tree in all her wisdom drops the husks that don’t seem viable – some worm or weevil has eaten the inside of the nut, and therefore not a good candidate for a future tree. Instead of wasting her energy to ripen that nut, she drops the bad ones, and focuses her energy on the remaining good nuts – nourishing them to rain abundance when perfectly ripe.
Two months in to (what feels like) a new home and a new town, I see the bright, unopened husks of many dreams lying around me on the ground. I find myself unsure of why I am here, or where the path leads me. Back in Colorado, I had creative dreams. Big dreams. I allowed the universal creative energy to flow through me and worked to make these dreams a reality through sheer grit and determination. Here, I just don’t know. Not all of the same dreams feel right. In slow motion these dreams have released their grasp on my branches, and fallen to the ground with a solid thud. The spark is gone. I look around and wonder what is next? Which one of the whispers left clinging will come to fruition?
I’m in a place of in-between. We risked so much, left it all behind to start a new adventure, and I find myself here, having trusted in this divine plan lifting my hands and saying, “now what?”. I’m opening the channels, waiting for the inspiration, and trusting that it will come, while allowing myself to mourn the loss of what no longer feels right.
Who knows? Just as the fallen husks of the pecan tree will break down and over time be absorbed by the roots of the tree, perhaps my fallen dreams will be resorbed by my roots and one day come to fruition in a new way, tinged by the experiences of a new land. Until that day, I will trust in the path, even if I don't know the destination.