Lessons From A Cherry Tree

From the bedroom window I can see petals falling. With every shifting breeze, a gentle shower of shell-pink confetti rains down. How gracefully the flowering cherry tree relinquishes her spring finery, a little at a time, like the slow ebbing of a tide.

No regret, no clinging on to past glory. No resentment, no cutting-off-your-nose-to-spite-your-face wholesale dumping. Just a gentle shedding, releasing what no longer serves easily, willingly, naturally, open-heartedly.

I know that only change is constant, yet in my own life how often do I cling to what is outmoded because it's familiar? How often do I hang on to possessions I no longer need 'because it may come in useful one day', or because Great Aunt Mabel gave it to me and I feel guilty for not actually wanting it?

Someone once told me that a leaf only falls in the autumn when the bud of next year's leaf has formed below, ready to unfurl in the spring when conditions are right.

Am I preventing new growth in my life by clinging onto the past?

May I be like the cherry tree. Able to sense the shifts and changes in my life and move on without regret.