Square Peg ● Round Hole

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We have a Serviceberry tree in our front yard.  Each year it blooms and produces these ripe red berries that apparently are a favorite among the critters that roam the yard.   It replaced the two majestic trees that became casualties of some brutal summers and eventually succumbed.

When we came home from spring break, I noticed a change.  The berries weren’t as abundant and it was slow to fill in.   I shrugged it off and rationalized that there wasn’t a problem.   Fast forward to June.  After we returned from Europe, I notice that the leaves were turning brown.   Again, I turned a blind eye and even would close my bedroom blinds so I wouldn’t have to witness its decline.    If I don’t see it, then it is not happening. Classic denial.   The decline makes me sad and shameful all at the same time.   If I would have paid attention, tended to the needs of the tree, then maybe, it would have had a chance for survival.    Isn’t that a parallel for what all of us tend to do with our emotions?Ignore them until they go away, which never happens.   They reside only to bubble up at a later date with more vigor and vengeance

In my experience, unfelt feelings have a way of dulling life.   It is as if we don’t acknowledge and validate them, then we become numb, sick, and bitter.   My process is learning how to be comfortable with being uncomfortable.    It isn’t easy.  It isn’t fun.   But necessary in order to find relief.  To sparkle again.

Sometimes the first step is simple awareness.    Of course, my issue with the dying tree has now transformed into me watering, pampering, and praying for it.  It has become obsessive.  And even in the light of the situation being hopeless, I am looking for the miracle.   The evidence of new growth.    That’s what happens with me.    When I confront those unresolved feelings and shed those that no longer serve me, I blossom.  Not sure if this will be true for my beloved Serviceberry, but I would like to believe that there is ALWAYS hope no matter what the situation looks like.