Pruned and Exposed

When I was in junior high we had a Mimosa tree in our front yard. Whether I have spelled "Mimosa" correctly I do not know. So I have guessed. Anyway, one day my Mom in an obviously not so happy mood, told me to go look in the front yard at what my Dad had done. So I did. And he had done something. Yep. He had basically rendered said Mimosa tree into a reduced piece of a stump with extensions attached. Yes, my Dad had done some pruning, some pretty flippin serious pruning. To add insult to injury the now ugly tree(let's call it a stump with extensions) was painted white near the base of the stumpy part(if I recall correctly). According to my Mom we now had an ugly front yard, an embarrassment, a disgrace. I found it all rather funny but held back voluminous amounts of laughter.

When I was in high school I took my first drink, I tried my first drug, I smoked my first cigarette. Even had sex for the first time(hey it was not all bad...heehee). Eventually Pot became a problem for me, an addiction. When I finally gave it up in my early 20's, drinking became its replacement. Drinking had never been a problem or an addiction so what the heck. Eventually drinking became a problem for me, an addiction. When I finally gave it up in my late 30's, smoking became its replacement. Smoking had never been a problem or an addiction so what the heck. Eventually smoking became a problem for me , a real habit, an addiction. There are other stories of various void filling(s) involving drugs and various other "filaments" but these are the big three.

But what about that tree? What does any of this have to do with that stumpy tree with extensions? Lots. Seven months ago I quit smoking at the age of 50(I hate saying that age and 51 sounds worse now!). For the first time since high school I am without a crutch to lean upon. I don't take drugs, I don't drink, I don't smoke. Heck I have not even gotten laid in over three years! I have been pruned back severely and am left with a remnant of me. But actually not a remnant but the real me, whoever I be. It's ugly at times and it's scary...like that tree. But it's also beautiful because it's real. May I call myself beautiful? I think there is a way we can think in those terms without arrogance or self delusion.

As that tree found itself pruned and exposed so I find myself. It can be rather embarrassing. It certainly is scary at times. Will I survive without all my "limbs" intact? Is there any hope of good times to come? What does the future hold? Will I wait for time to occur, one day at a time? Time is the great healer, they say. That tree? Well, it was nourished by sunlight and rain and if memory serves me properly "tree food"(is there such a thing). Eventually time and nourishment turned the stump and extensions back not only into a real tree but bigger than before. It blossomed into this large incredibly beautiful tree which provided sheltering shade. It provided beauty to gaze upon and admire. But it took time. It took nourishment.

Hope is found in nourishment and time...