Stormy Lessons

As we are in hurricane season once again, and I am writing from one of the rings around the storm bullseye, I remember my lessons from one of last year's big storms. Shortly before the hurricane made landfall, I spoke with a friend who wisely advised, “Remember, there are lessons in every storm.” Well, mine all started with a mango tree.

The year before, I thought about cutting the large branches of the tree, because even in mild breezes, its fruit become grenades to my screened enclosure, and I don’t really care for the taste of the fruit. But, I just didn’t make the final decision of doing it - other things came up and it became less of a priority.

During the storm, winds swiftly snapped off half of the tree, crashed it on top of my screened enclosure, and neatly deposited it into the pool. Lesson #1: Sometimes if you wait long enough to make a decision, it will be made for you, perhaps not with the same outcome as you envisioned. How many times in my life have I struggled with indecision and decided it was easier to just let something go until it became unimportant, only to have the delayed decision impact me in a negative way?

After the hurricane, a tree cutting company was in my neighborhood and I discussed with them about removing the tree from the pool. Sam, the company representative, gave me an estimate which included cutting down the remainder of the tree. However, I could not bear the thought of cutting down a healthy, living thing just because it was inconvenient, especially since it has resided here much longer than I have. Sam pointed to a large, diseased section of the tree and explained that if he did not cut this tree down it would eventually rot and end up going through my roof in the next large storm. He suggested planting a more suitable tree in the same location and giving it a chance at life in my yard. Lesson #2: Just because something has been in your life for a long time does not mean that it is healthy and contributing to your life. It may be time to closely examine it to see if it still serves your life in the way intended, if not, you may need to muster the strength to cut it down and start over. How many times in my life have I clung on to something that no longer served me just because I felt guilty about letting it go, considering the time and energy I had invested? Not to mention that I valued its worth over my own well being.

The final lesson came quickly. After convincing me to cut down the mango tree, Sam looked at another tree in my yard and suggested that it be removed as well. I explained to him that it was an antique orange tree that had been, for all intended purposes, resurrected from the dead and was going to produce oranges soon. He said it was not an orange tree; I insisted it was since I had watched the tree sprout from a stump that I knew to be an orange tree, so how could it produce something else? Sam picked off a leaf, crushed it, smelled it, and handed it to me. These leaves didn’t smell like oranges at all. So I then pondered the rarity that I had such an antique, genetically odd line of orange tree that its leaves didn’t smell like oranges. This tree was indeed special. I was impressed. Sam then shed light on my disillusion by explaining the typical characteristics of a ficus tree. I insisted it was not a ficus, however, my certainty was starting to weaken. He then lifted the dead tree stump to reveal that yes, indeed, a ficus plant had grown around and inside the orange stump, and with similar looking leaves, had disguised itself as an orange tree. Lesson #3: When we are questioned about our beliefs, instead of adamantly defending them, it is better to take a breath, withhold judgment, and consider perhaps there are other alternatives to our perspective of the truth. How many times in my life have I vehemently agreed or denied something based on my prior knowledge of it and not given the opportunity to investigate how it may have changed into something else? How many times have I denied the opinions of others because my truth was so strong that theirs couldn’t even be considered?

I now assuredly understand that there are lessons in every storm. Storms can be physical, emotional, even conditional; but with each, I must take the time to analyze what the situations mean to me and how I can learn from them.