If a Tree Changes Color in the Woods, Do We Notice?
There are very few things more beautiful than a tree lit up by its fall splendor. But yet the tree doesn’t do it to look better or to get more notice. That shifts our perspective on what a successful day might look like. Rather than feeling like a failure if we don’t cross off every item on our to-do list, we could reflect back on the rich moments from the day, be grateful for the people who were kind to us, and celebrate the moments when we were able to be kind ourselves.
I’ve got to admit: I love that feeling of checking things off my to-do list. At the end of the day, if I don’t catch myself, I think back on all the things I accomplished and measured the success of the day based on how many tasks or how well I accomplished tasks I completed. I get innately frustrated with myself if I don’t knock out at least some tasks.
I’d imagine a lot of us are similar in that way. And there’s nothing wrong with using a to-do list to ensure we’re prioritize our time so as to maximize our efforts on the things that matter most to us. But sometimes to-do lists become a good in and of themselves wherein the list is the master rather than the tool used by the master—which should be us.
I was reflecting on that this morning while I was . . . well . . . drawing up my to-do list for the day. My office has a window that looks out to the street. The street is lined with pretty good sized maple trees and the leaves on those trees are just starting to turn to their fiery burnt orange hue. While looking at the leaves slightly sway in the breeze I got a thought: I wonder if trees use any kind of to-do list. I chuckled at imagining a tree with a satisfactory smile on its trunk as it crossed off items like: seal up holes for better insulation, begin process of color change with task completed by mid October, begin dropping leaves by Nov. 1 . . .
Natural processes might follow certain timelines and predictable patterns, but they are certainly not rules by checking things off of a list. Trees’ success doesn’t get measured by how many tasks they knock out on any given day. Instead, they use their days soaking in as much energy as they can, growing out as many leaves as they can so as to maximize that energy absorption, so that they can be best prepared for the winter. And here’s the ah ha moment for today for me: the trees do it whether or not anybody notices or praises them. And on a day after a major wind storm when the skies are gray and the tree might lose a lot of those precious energy producing leaves, the tree doesn’t dismay about not being able to point at its accomplishments in the evening.
Perhaps part of the tree why trees have evolved to be so stable is because they live so much longer than we do. We strive so hard and so often to be more, accomplish more, to be better looking, smarter, healthier, better informed, and more important in the eyes of others. But I think there’s something we can learn from the trees’ approach. There are very few things more beautiful than a tree lit up by its fall splendor. But yet the tree doesn’t do it to look better or to get more notice. That shifts our perspective on what a successful day might look like. Rather than feeling like a failure if we don’t cross off every item on our to-do list, we could reflect back on the rich moments from the day, be grateful for the people who were kind to us, and celebrate the moments when we were able to be kind ourselves.