I feel like I often ask too much of my reader, especially when I ask them to try and experience my madness. It won't stop though, nope. Below, you can find a link to some music that I feel reflects my message very well. If you would please, either before after or during reading this post, listen to the song below. Hopefully, you will be able to further appreciate what I am trying to express here. I already do, thanks friend.
Lets begin, shall we?
I have a good friend in Birmingham who wanted to discuss my return to Alabama. This place means different things to him than it does to me, so naturally he was curious as to why I like it down here so much. I gave him some "this and that" about it being far away from anything resembling Chicago, and how I felt it was a good constructive space to figure out my next steps (as I'm sure I've already expressed in previous postings). It started to nag on me that I had said all of that. Though true, it wasn't THE truth. As the conversation moved on, the desire to change my response grew stronger, until I had to interrupt. Out of nowhere, I blurted out that the real reason I liked Alabama so much is, (are you ready?) the foliage. I'll let that statement hang in the air for a minute. The foliage...
What does that mean? I can assure you it is not based in a scientific appreciation for the foliage; I don't give two shits about photosynthesis! So, what is it? To best explain, maybe some personal history will help.
I would like to recall my 20-25 phase in life. I was tired of failing and disappointing people. My solution was to give a damn about something that would in turn light a fire under my ass, to put it eloquently, and that is exactly what I did. I got passionate about helping others, got two degrees in the subject, and when I was done, I had nothing waiting for me on the other side. Looking back, it was foolish to think that I would have, no matter what may have been different. So, in that defeat I came here, still having not learned my lesson. This lesson I speak of was that all along I had only been interested in helping myself; mostly, to help me live with myself. It's not very fun, my wife can attest to the mess.
Now how did I learn this lesson?
I came down here looking for a lot of answers, and the first and most important one came to me only days after I arrived. Something about the woods here is intoxicating. You can find a path in any neighborhood, it seems, and 100 feet in you feel totally separated from civilization. At night, when the dark turns everything into mysterious shadows, insects take to the trees and play really good music. The best of all of these is that when the wind picks up and moves the surrounding greenery, it forces one to remember that it is all very much alive. This constant reminder, my friends, is the biggest blessing I have received in a long while. There is something out here way bigger than myself. And in the end, I have to agree that this whole life, in all its sorrows and wonder, is not about me.
As I continue to struggle to grasp this revelation, I am constantly enveloped by the foliage that speaks to me. In Alabama, if you have a heart that listens, then the trees themselves will be your prophets. All I want to do in return is to love them back, and to further explore the life surrounding us all. How can I possibly do anything else? It demands my worship, and I give it freely. This place has become even dearer to my heart.
I was not looking for this love affair to occur, to draw me away from my self focus and bring me to new frontiers of understanding. It has shown me where I have erred, and has been most gracious in doing so. I think I will continue to listen. Though I likely will someday, I hope that I never leave this place. There is not a lot of opportunity in Alabama for a person of my interests, but unlike everywhere else I have lived, it surrounds me with loving arms. It whispers in my ear, "you should learn to play the banjo". Love affairs are funny indeed.
When Christ was asked to silence his followers, he said that if they kept quiet, that the very stones would cry out. In the absence of everyone else, in the absence of myself, I hear the trees.
it's funny but when you said that the reason you liked alabama so much was because of the foliage, i totally understood. (although perhaps not in the same way you meant it until reading further - but that of which, to some extent, still resonates deeply...)
ReplyDeletemoving to wyoming, i didn't realize just how much i would miss foliage. specifically green foliage. everything out here is brown, and it feels so dismal. in minnesota, i had easy access to climbable bluffs surrounded by glorious foliage - all reminders to me of God's hand in it all.
i miss minnesota more than i ever thought i would.