From a friend of mine in Northern California. His residence had a tree fall upon it the weekend I was visiting...
A intergenerational healer from Africa wrote the following to him:
Make a gift to the story, because all of this Failure that we have has to be the place where we plant a new time.
We take all of our tears, all of our failure and make a hummus like at the bottom of a tree, and plant possibility there.
And in that humus, something will sprout,
and what will sprout and be grown with our grief –
not our weeping –
but Grief turned to Beauty,
Grief turned to Art,
Grief turned to Song, living every footstep as prayer.
Small things make big words glow,
and what might happen as well is this Tree of Hope might grow;
maybe two, maybe three,
and maybe all Diversity could grow on it,
beyond our Imagining,
and maybe that flower will attract the Divine,
and maybe the Divine will be like a Humming Bird,
or a Bee and a Beetle,
or some wild and crazy Wind,
and it will fertilize a time beyond our own into a fruit,
whose seeds will drop to the base of that Tree,
into the great pile of Humus,
and grow a time of Hope beyond this Nonsense.
Grief is the throne of all Beauty.
Beauty cleans Consciousness."