Saturday, November 1, 2008

Falling Leaves or Self Less = More of Self


Leaves. They are falling all around us.

A few weeks ago, as I waited in my car for the school bell to ring, my windows rolled down to catch the balmy breeze, a leaf sailed right into my car. It was almost as if it were a disembodied spirit which was falling to the ground, then, gathering a last moment of self-will, flew sideways through the window to drift lazily into my lap. It was nearly dead but seemed so bent on being with me that I took it home and put it in a little vase of water. Besides, it made me think.

All around us, leaves are falling. They are falling with disappointment, depression and despair. They are the people around us, with “hands hanging down”, whose hearts are breaking, whose spirits are wavering, whose bodies are failing. They are old and young, male and female. Sometimes they land right in your lap and you know they are meant for you to take home, take to your heart, take into your life. More often than not, they are falling to the ground right outside your window.

Sometimes we are needed for a lifetime or only for a moment, just long enough to flash a smile, write a note or do a kind deed. Then again, there are some leaves who need us for a season, until spring comes again and they have absorbed all that is required to turn green and sprout into life on their own.

Every time I have taken home a leaf and put it in a vase of water, it has made me think. I think about how much I am blessed when I deny what I want for a season in order to provide something someone else has truly needed. In that act of selflessness, I am always transformed into a person who is so much more. For which I am very grateful.

20 comments:

  1. How very poignant! I wish autumn weren't so near to over here so I could reflect on that longer and more thoroughly.

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  2. So simple yet eloquent, you are truly gifted both in writing, and spirit.
    A beautiful message.

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  3. This is just lovely, Heidi. I hope to try not to be too busy with what I'm doing to notice those leaves.

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  4. This was so nice, Heidi. The fact that you brought that one leaf home and put it in a vase says a lot about you. I agree with you about being needed for different lengths of time. I think this is why Fall is such a nostalgic season. Thanks so much.

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  5. I'm in love with this post. You are a lovely lady, friend. What a beautiful analogy and perspective.
    Thank you!
    SUBMIT.TO.ANNEX.

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  6. Ladies, thank you so much! (I did submit it to the annex--thanks for your vote of confidence, Heather!)

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  7. How wonderful is a plan that requires we be there for others, that only through our selfless acts will we truly find ourselves.
    Beautifully put,
    Roxanne

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  9. You know... Fall is such a queer part of the year... it makes your heart sing with the beauty and spectacular views all around, and at the same time the reality of falling leaves, and the realization that everything would be gone, barren and dry in a few days leaves you just so pensive..

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  10. Heidi, this is beautiful! You post among the best written pieces in Blogland consistently, but I think this piece is one of my favorites. Maybe because it is a lesson I need for this season in time?

    BTW, you're right about me not wanting to talk much about my FM because it's just too difficult to explain. Even my doctor had a hard time explaining it to me. My response when she first diagnosed me and told me the cause was unknown: "So am I mental? If you fix my mind can you fix my physical pain?" Of course, I was dumb. I understand it better now and it's good to know people like you who understands it and who literally knows my pain :-)

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  11. Thanks again, ladies, your kind thoughts always make my day! Marivic--the more I talk about my FM, the more people I find out there who are suffering from it in silence. It is getting pretty common--there are at least five or six of us in my ward alone (that I know about). I think it is one of the fall outs of the stressful times we live in. If you ever want to chat about it, please let me know. You know how to get ahold of me. :)

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  12. Heidi,
    I have to confess that my auntie told me, no raved, about your site a long time ago, and I am just getting to you, sorry.
    You write beautifully, you should write a book, oh wait you did :) so awesome!! I wish that I could write as well.
    Anyway, I really enjoy your blog and will be a regular follower from now on.
    Love,
    Tara Curtis
    (daughter of Debbie, neice of Roxanne, granddaughter of Richard and Iva Lou.)

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  13. Tara, I am thrilled to read your comment--what a nice thing to say! (you know that I pay your aunt to say those things, don't you?)

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  14. Beautifully written and very inspiring.

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  15. This has put me in the Fall spirit. This will give me something relaxing to think about as I wait for the less than inspiring Muni bus tomorrow!

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  16. Jen--glad I could help. Sorry about the muni bus. Yuck!

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  17. What a wonderful thought and the metaphor is perfect. Thanks!

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  18. Leaves...so beautiful, so fleeting. What a wonderful interpretation.

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