What I do is me
The day my father was buried, an ice storm broke a large branch in a willow in our front yard. Seventeen years later, while home from college for Christmas break, our son cut that tree down. It had been hanging on for its own life the past couple of years. When they were young, our children often climbed that tree to enjoy a different view of the world and soak up the peaceful energy of its swaying branches. Here’s a nested meditation inspired by that tree a few months after