On Expecting Nothing & Everything All At The Same Time

There’s this rather large apple tree that stands guard in my backyard…and on auspicious nights like these, I bundle myself up in my warmest sweatshirt, venture outside for ten minutes or so, and bear witness to its immense, stalwartly nature.

This tree truly is a testament to the commands of pith and fortitude. It’s scarcely twenty-five degrees out right now and the wind is hurtling across my yard, a proper Midwestern blend of bitter and bite. Detroit winters pinch at the skin and often make it difficult to comprehend how one could possibly survive without the luxuries of indoor florescent lighting and forced-air heating. For this apple tree though, the weather is of no major concern. It simply stands upright and takes it all in. Month after month, season after season, it abides whatever comes its way, as if it binds no manner to the world around it. The birds, they’ve long migrated south. I, myself, have spent the past two months hibernating next to the warmth of my girlfriend. But this tree, it publicly sheds its leaves and awaits the next chapter.

Oh, to have such strength! It's nights like these when I gaze out into the darkness of my yard and realize how weak and easily dispensable I truly am. All my worries, all my laughter, everything that makes me visible and intact…it means absolutely nothing to this tree. I could cease to exist and it would take no notice. I doubt much of the rest of the world would either.

It goes without saying that I’m anthropomorphizing a silly backyard perennial with superhuman powers...and that whatever "resilience" this apple tree retains is only there because I've strictly granted it to the tree…but honestly, these realities are equally as inconsequential. The truth of this very large and unforgiving world is that in spite of our longing to be substantial and matterful human beings, when its all said and done, none of us really matter that much.

I wonder if others out think the same thoughts as I? I suppose my ideas may come across with a large hash of morbid cynicism…but really, I don’t feel sad or depressed thinking these thoughts one bit. In fact, if anything, when I look at this tree, it drives me to quicken my steps and stir progress into my life. It whispers to me, get busy living or get busy dying.

I spoke to an old friend this week, one who’s more on the dying side of life than living. I see so much potential in her, so much possibility, but I also hear the sirens of fear wrestling down upon her soul. They immobilize her from making any sustainable change…and as such, she’s quickly on the path to quietly squaring away the next thirty years of her life. It’s hard to see her go through this, because I’ve heard her talk of passion before, the kind that builds unrelenting aims and aspirations. I've heard her speak of her dreams and they sounded utterly amazing. The way it looks though, her life will be nothing spectacular to anybody, including herself. Month after month, season after season, she will abide whatever comes her way, as if she binds no manner to the world around her. It will all be so...insignificant. Some days I pray that her ever-so-average boyfriend will stop being so comfortable. That instead, he'll cheat on her and give her that much-needed second chance at true love. Some days I pray she’ll summarily get fired from her uninspiring job, thus forcing her to make the complicated professional life decisions she simply cannot make at this point in her life. I don’t think change will come soon enough to her, but every so often I wish upon a shooting star and anticipate for the best. I hope.

This is the one human struggle I see everywhere I set my eyes. I see it in my old friends, I see it in myself...and on auspicious nights like these, I even see it in the trees. This struggle is eternal and defines nearly every waking moment in my life. It's one and only boon is that it's freed within me the ability to identify what this life expects from me…and more importantly, what I expect from this life. Sometimes I don't know what to do with it all, but I'm okay with that. Between me and you, I know most people don't look at the trees in their backyard and see the harrow of human life...but I'm okay with that as well. This is my life and my perspective into living it. On these cold winter nights, I'm simply going to keep on looking at the inanimate and believing what my mind thinks aloud.

Maybe I'll even be a little grateful too.