1 Sep 26 - Surrendering to the Silence of Nature

Have you ever looked at something you loved and wondered if it was gone for good?

Years ago, a little pomegranate tree came into our lives—a small, familiar presence so valued in an Asian Chinese home for its medicinal and spiritual grace. At first, it lived in the garden, but the heat proved too fierce, its growth stalling. We moved it outside the house, under the shade of a big tree, but it lingered in an in-between state: thriving a little, fading, nearly gone, revived, and fading again.

There was a time when the tree was tall and even bore fruits for a good few years. We were happy, and truthfully, almost took the tree for granted. But when a fierce, recent hot spell swept through, it shed its leaves completely, leaving it looking heartbreakingly bare. Frustrated by the starkness, we thought of chopping off the whole tree and just getting a new one.

Then came a voice of quiet wisdom: "Wait! Let's trust Mother Nature."

Following that advice, my husband took shears to it—chop, chop, chop—pruning away all the branches until nothing remained except a solitary trunk. We brought it back to the garden, resting it beneath our favourite palm tree (named Paul). No branches. No leaves. Just a single piece of wood standing against the earth.

For a week, nothing happened. For two weeks, still nothing. We stopped waiting, letting go of the heavy anticipation.