I Like Trees

The moral of the story is really, really simple. When the tree gives you lemons, eat them.

Take them in. Learn from them. Learn everything lemon. Use them any way you can, plan for a future without them, give away whatever you can get from them, share them, explore them. Cope with them. SEIZE them, grab them, and don’t let them go until you’ve wrung something vital and valuable from them. Take every last bit of lemon out of it, and steal its meaning for yourself. Learn lemon.

You’re going to have pain. That’s life. You’re going to have misery. T

When you were a kid, you played the game. Red light, green light. One kid faces the wall. They say, “green light,” and everyone scrambles forward. “1-2-3 Red light!” cries the stoplight child, and whirls around. Anyone still moving is “out.” The first to reach the stoplight crier under these rules becomes the next stoplight. Red light. Stop. Green light. Go.

That’s the thing about society that amazes me.

I’m so afraid that what I’m doing now won’t have been enough for you, my later self. Or I’ll have done the wrong thing, and somehow everything I’m doing now is so much nonsense, and I’ll regret not having done one thing or another to make the future you live in perfect and good and worthwhile.

I’m writing you this letter to tell you that, while I love you as we can only love our future selves, I’ve come to the realisation that it’s not my problem.

“The true meaning of life is to plant trees, under whose shade you do not expect to sit.” ~Nelson Henderson