Years ago, before we moved in, a past gardener planted a cherry tree along the side of our house. This forested spot isn't the best place for that. Surrounded by Douglas firs, cedars, and hemlock, there's not much sunlight for a small tree to catch by the time it all filters down. It's a stunted thing with leggy branches, but it blooms. What's more, it blooms whenever it feels like it. March with other cherries? Maybe. May? June? Sure. November? Sometimes. Solstice? Why not? I've seen it bloom its head off through a February snow.
Why? I don't know. I researched and discovered it may be a winter cherry——some varieties bloom when it's cold. A more likely explanation, given its sporadic nature, its challenging light conditions, and climate change, is probably stressors. But I've decided I don't need to know why it blooms when it does to feel a certain kinship. I like to sit under it when I don't know which way is up, what I'm doing, how I feel, or whether we'll be okay. It's good to be in the presence of another confused being who's also doing her best to fulfill her purpose and bring beauty into the world, even so.
One rainy night a few years ago, overwhelmed by the state of the world, I lay on the wet earth under that tree and let the raindrops fall from its leaves mix to with my tears in the dark. At some point, a little wood mouse interrupted my mourning as it scurried along my left sleeve. I jumped up, yelling in surprise as a small ball of silver fur streaked off into the night. Sadness dissolved into laughter as I clung to a branch, catching my balance and breath.
When my friend Nydia (a wonderful coach; find her HERE) had her own run-in with a mouse this summer, she shared her learning with me that mice are seen as tricksters in some cultures. That tracks. The chaotic nature of my cherry tree's blooms and the trickster nature of mice are my reflection this week. I'm wondering what it would look like for me to embrace their nature in this season——to show up in unexpected ways, to choose to bloom despite (or because of) the stressors around me, to interrupt sadness with joy. How can I explore play, surprise, or creativity in my work to support organizations? If you have thoughts on this reflection, REACH OUT! I'd love to hear what you think.