I sat by the tree this morning and couldn't help but notice the silence. The silence within myself. It wasn't a feeling of writer's block—I have nothing to say—instead it was a feeling of I have everything to say. But as each thought and glimmer of inspiration made an appearance, it passed on by. Perhaps I was experiencing some form of meditative silence. I had reached a place that feels impossible in yoga class, where there's pressure to quiet your mind and the mind wants to run its mouth.
So I continued to sit, not sure what would come of it. Next is a play-by-play of how this blog post was born:
Take a picture of the Charlie Brown Christmas tree. I ignored the voice. The voice moved on, but it came back. Two or three times. Take a picture of the tree.
So I did. Shawn bought the tree from the drugstore. It plays an over modulated version of the Linus and Lucy song by the Vince Guaraldi trio, and it makes my kids dance like the Peanuts. Dillon woke up as I was on the floor, capturing the image you see above.
"Dillon, why do you like this?"
"Because it plays the Peanuts song and because it's a poor, poor Christmas tree."
"So, if it's a poor, poor Christmas tree, why do you like it?"
"Because we need to take care of it."
"Why do we have to take care of it?"
"So it will stay alive!"
I soaked it in, appreciating the simplicity of the wisdom. It's open to interpretation, but it doesn't really need an explanation.