Under the walnut tree

Under the walnut tree I scamper about on my hands and knees. It feels easy to love this creature who gives and gives - many mornings of porridge made respendant by it’s topping fruit.

As I wander and feel with my hands the bulges under grass and under my feet I think of friends going through hard things. It is easier to be with them and whatever difficulty that cannot be solved, under this walnut tree.

In the end we all die. Some of these nuts already have, crushing under my weight - telling me to leave them be - just like death encourages us all to let that which die be the compost for the next season of life.

When we can feel these actual processes in our own bodies and not turn away from that fact that everything is arising and then passing away, our life makes more sense and we humans can reliquish a little of our over zealous control.

All this, is made easier when collecting walnuts under the walnut tree.