Hello sweet reader,
Laura and I were having breakfast a couple of days ago with our dear friends and neighbors Jerry Jampolsky and Diane Cirincione, shortly after our recent return from our summer in “Bernieland” (Go Bernie!!)
Jerry always has some challenging question for me, about my ongoing (and endless…I pray) spiritual journey/struggle and he didn’t forget this time either: “So Michael, did you have any spiritual insights or experiences over the summer?”
Said I: “I did Jerry, but, this particular “aha” came only after the actual experience, and not during it: actually, in the plane on my way back to CA.”
” It was triggered by my wanderings through the early stages of one of natures most miraculous displays, namely the annual “Fall Foliage Show” in Vermont and the Northeast. It came thanks to the sugar maples and their ceaseless generosity to us.”
After their rebirth in March – as soon as the days start getting longer, and the juices of life start flowing again – their very first act (with the help of very hard working farmers) is to share their unique and renowned sweetness with us. (Who doesn’t love the taste of real maple syrup, right? ) YUM!
Then, their summer role, one which they share with all the trees in all the forests – that of providing shade, plus shelter, nourishment and protection for numberless species.
As autumn approaches, and the days get shorter, the nights cooler, the leaves understand deeply that their lives are soon over.
And, what do we hear from the leaves? Do we hear “woe is me?” Resistance? Regrets? Complaints? Nope! What we hear (in their comforting rustling sounds) is: “Lets celebrate our lives. Let’s PARTY!” And so … they do. Do they ever!
And, what do we see? Do we see sorrow? Sadness? No way! What we see is JUST THE OPPOSITE – we see a show so spectacular that none of us who has been privileged to attend the performance will ever forget it.
And then, when it’s time to let go, they know it’s the time, and they do it willingly, even joyfully, floating down to earth – and, along with their millions of siblings and friends, each one finds and alights at their own, perfect place, on the forest floor.
And, in doing so, they offer their final gift of thanks to their mother, their creator – to nourish and protect her until it’s time for rebirth.
My teachers are everywhere around me, in every possible form, and with any number of legs.
Practice Tip: 
Considering the journey of the sugar maples, and the entire forest, AND the humans too, brings to mind the words of Suzuki Roshi – founder of San Francisco Zen Center.
I find them profound, and comforting too:
“To say that we die, is not the correct understanding.
To say that we do not die, is not the correct understanding.
We die, AND we do not die.
THAT is the correct understanding.”
Dear reader, as always,I offer you my greatest love and respect. Please, be kind to yourself.
Metta,
Michael
