I am here to proclaim that withering has gotten a bum rap. Here’s why.
I move indoors for contemplation during winter. From a south facing window I can see an overgrown trail that meanders down the hill, through the trees, leading to a small creek that freezes on the coldest days. Nearer at hand, we have allowed a rogue butterfly bush to expand without pruning, mostly because it serves as home for hummingbirds in Spring and Summer. The top of the bush has become part of my contemplative landscape, covering half of the second story window.
Sitting in the same place with the same view, day after day, in silent contemplation, I am offered the opportunity to reflect on the seasonal transformation of the natural world.
I witness the trees losing their leaves, each revealing a unique, naked skeleton. I become acquainted with a butterfly bush who has lost its vibrant, pastel color. I follow the unceremonious withering that marks the transition from Autumn into Winter.
Drawing by Erin Plews-Ogan.
Naked trees sway gracefully in a winter wind. Their limbs welcome snow to create fleeting beauty akin to the delight of a spring rainbow. Winter trees stand tall in every shade of gray.
Withered blossoms of the butterfly bush relinquish eye-catching hues for muted colors once the hummingbirds have migrated. In winter they are sand colored, tan, or tobacco, and in the slanted light of morning, the withered blossoms will appear as tarnished gold.
I often think of my body as withering with ALS. Lefty is now skin and bones, limp and motionless. My once-runner’s legs have become shrunken sticks.The progression of ALS is as relentless as the seasons. That’s why, at least once a day, I haul my shriveling body up to a standing walker and enjoy every shuffling step I can take. That’s why when we gather around the table to pray, Lefty completes the circle.
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Most people confuse their life situation with their actual life, which is an underlying flow beneath the everyday events. This deeper discovery is largely what religious people mean by “finding their soul.”
― Richard Rohr, Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life
Dear Jim, thank you for sharing this moving reflection, yet another testament of the fullness of your heart and soul. Peter and I shared a few thoughts and tender memories as we connected with the persistence that comes through your words. Amidst the fear and the confrontation with our human fragility, that which we can lose, you’re seeking out the world through those kind and attentive eyes that look out the window, the same eyes that generously harness the resources you have to enable us to read this post and accompany you, even if from afar. Maybe it is in the hardest and most painful experiences for our bodies and hearts that maybe we can touch that “underlying flow” you cite at the end of your text. And that is a reminder of why it’s worth getting up for.
Jim,
You write so beautifully and I so appreciate the window into your thoughts through this blog and appreciate your willingness to take us on your journey with you. Our souls (that survive all bodily withering) are the true light of this world and I am banking on that being true for whatever is next!! Thank you for being and inspiring us all. You are in our thoughts and prayers daily. Love to you from all of us Browns (Deirdre, JD, Eavan, Seamus & Nieve)
Thanks to you, I am contemplating the winter trees anew — and so much else.
Love you, Jim.
Jim, I appreciate the Richard Rohr quote. Thanks for sharing your reflections.
A wonderful contemplation on withering and loss
Reminds me of the hymn…
Teach me, O forest, wither happy
once that autumn yellow leaves:
better soon spring blossoms,
when the beautiful green my tree shall be and its deep roots beat
in eternity summer.