As we were cruising along the New York State thruway to Albany, en route to see the tulip festival, rows upon rows of trees were whizzing past us. I paused a moment to consider these trees and tried to notice them. Not an easy feat at seventy mph, but nonetheless I attempted to...
And a profound thought hit me... there are no ugly trees, nor flowers or birds or frogs for that matter. They just are, just the way they are created, none trying to be anything other than who they were born to be, doing what they knew to do best, and just being....
Some of the trees I saw had a lot of damages inflicted on them. Some them had even died standing up. Some had fallen. But both had become supports and food for other plants to grow on. I don't know that they laid down their life with a martyr attitude, they just died. Of the ones that were still standing, none had complained the hardships that come their way, with the bitter colds of the northeastern weather patterns, nor of the blizzards or hurricanes that broke their branches. None had compared itself to another tree that had been spared the high winds and stood tall and proud with no missing branches or leaves. None felt small. None felt greater. None felt any less because of the broken branches, missing trunks or scarred boughs. None had even decided that enough is enough, I won't put out leaves this year, who is going to notice? Who appreciates me? I just stand here in the middle of the clump of trees on the way to Albany. Why oh why did the roads not pass by me, so that I too could get some more sunlight. I have to grow taller each year and only the tops of the branches get some light.
Will anyone notice that I didn't bother shedding my leaves last year? Even birds sometimes don't notice me. Why am I doing this? What is my purpose... But the trees just are... and no matter how broken or maimed or scarred or bent from the wind... there are no ugly trees. And the reason I think they they are not ugly is because they do not judge neither others or themselves. They just are a tree, blooming, healing from their wounds, bringing up water, releasing them into the air, and soaking in the rain, and just breathing and singing and being glad to be alive...
There are no policemen trees to keep order, there just is. No one settles a dispute between trees, there just aren't any. They don't decide where to grow, they just grow where they are. They don't feel the need to move and stretch their branches, they just spread out. Their scenery doesn't change much, they don't go on cruises or travel to see places. They just be. Just be. Who they are. A tree. In all its wisdom and beauty... there are no ugly trees....
ps. If there are no ugly trees, no one should call themselves ugly because of their behavior Show compassion to yourself when you make mistakes, forgive, let go. Ask a friend to forgive you if you can't do it for yourself. If you open your heart, there are friends to made... there are no ugly trees.
-Shobs
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