I was walking in the woods this morning to a symphony of birdsong, with the occasional waft of bluebells, and came across this tree, felled by the hurricane in 1987. It was left to its own devices lying in this valley. Did it wither and die, did it lay there and think “My purpose is done… It’s all over!”? Apparently not! It’s roots were still functioning, and it began to grow once more, not just a single trunk but a veritable thicket.

Life deals us rough blows, in much the same way as the weather does, and we have a choice, adapt and grow or wither and die. I am on my way to a funeral today, the church will be filled with many living bodies and one dead one. I can choose where I focus. Two years ago I faced just this choice and despite being buffeted and blown over, I’m glad I chose to move on and am just beginning to see those fresh green leaves bursting forth.

“There are two mistakes one can make along the road to truth…not going all the way, and not starting.”   Buddha

“Every new beginning comes from some other beginning’s end.”  Seneca