Welcome to the Wise Tree.
Before this story begins,
Just let yourself settle.
Find your warm and cozy space and just feel your body soften.
Simply arrive exactly as you are.
Let your body rest and let your breath move without instruction,
Just flowing in and flowing out.
And just for a moment,
Notice the gentle rhythm of breathing in and out.
Letting go of any stress or tension.
Just rest in being here in this moment.
So before we move into this story,
Just notice for a moment how often you measure your worth in those quiet,
Unnoticed ways.
Could be through what you achieve,
What you give,
How well you keep up,
And how easily a subtle feeling can arise of not quite being enough or needing to do more or be more.
Now,
You don't need to push that feeling away,
Just gently notice it with kindness.
And allow the possibility that your self-worth may not need to be measured at all.
That it is already here,
Quietly,
Beneath everything else.
So long ago,
A carpenter was traveling with his apprentice.
They came upon a great tree,
Standing alone in a field.
Its trunk was twisted and the branches grew at awkward angles.
The wood seemed knotted and uneven.
When the carpenter looked at it,
He laughed.
This tree is useless,
No carpenter would waste time on it.
Its wood is no good for beams,
No good for furniture,
No good for anything that I need.
So,
They passed by and continued on their way.
And that night,
As the carpenter slept,
The tree,
It appeared to him in a dream.
And this tree spoke.
This old tree,
Unremarkable,
Standing quietly,
Just as it is.
And the tree said,
You don't see my worth.
And because of that,
I have lived a long life.
If I had been straight and strong,
I would have been cut down long ago,
Turned into beams and boards used up.
Because I was overlooked,
I was spared.
The carpenter listened and the tree continued.
Tell me,
Tell me,
Is it better to be made useful and quickly used up,
Or to remain as you are and live a long,
Beautiful,
Quiet life?
This story appears in the writings attributed to Zhuanzhi,
And it gently unsettles the part of us that feels we must justify our existence.
In the world,
Our self-worth is often measured by usefulness.
What can you do?
What do you contribute?
How efficiently do you perform?
But Taoism,
It steps quietly aside from that measuring stick,
And just asks a different question.
What if being useful is not the same as being whole?
Now,
The carpenter awoke,
And the next day,
They passed the tree again.
But this time,
He did not laugh.
He stood beneath its branches,
He felt its shade,
And he noticed how the birds rested so safely among those limbs.
And this tree really did have such a value,
Just not the kind that would be taken down and carried away.
So,
From this story,
Just notice what stirs in you,
The places where you feel maybe unproductive or unremarkable.
But gently and without judgment,
Just allow them to be seen.
Because how often do we call parts of ourselves not enough,
Or quietly dismiss them?
The slow parts,
The tired parts,
The healing parts,
The parts of us that no longer produce what they once did.
In Taoism,
These parts are not problems,
But they are places where life has taken a different shape.
And the tree really does not apologize for how it has grown.
It simply stands steady,
Strong,
Rooted.
And just here now,
Coming back to your breath,
The soft,
Natural breathing,
Just allow your body to soften a little more.
Feel your shoulders easing,
Your jaw relaxing,
Nothing to prove,
Nothing to hold up.
And be spared.
It did not attempt to become valuable,
But it lived according to its nature,
And because of that,
It remained.
There is such deep permission here.
Because you do not need to justify your presence,
And you really do not need to earn your right to exist.
And so,
The tree was left standing.
The seasons passed,
Years went by,
And while the straight trees were taken and used,
This beautiful tree remained,
And it grew wide and expansive,
Its branches they stretched out,
Offering shade.
The birds came to rest upon it,
Animals gathered beneath it,
And it became a place of quiet shelter,
Of stillness of life.
And though it had once been overlooked,
It lived a long and peaceful life,
In its own way,
Whole and complete.
And so,
Those parts of you that don't feel quite perfect,
Maybe feel a little uneven,
A little different,
Maybe not quite fitting the image of how you think you should be,
And yet,
Just like the tree,
What appears imperfect may hold its own quiet wisdom,
Its own beauty,
And its own purpose.
There is something here to be seen differently,
With a little more kindness and a little more understanding.
Now gently return to your breath,
Soft,
Natural breathing.
Breathe in,
And as you breathe out,
Allow your body to soften even more,
Let go of any subtle tension.
Feel your shoulders relaxing further,
Your face softening,
Just breathing in and breathing out.
Now just see yourself like that tree,
Rooted,
Steady,
Just as you are.
No need to change your shape,
No need to become something else,
Just simply allowing yourself to exist in your own natural,
Beautiful way.
And as you rest here,
You might quietly sense that you are enough,
Just as you are in this moment,
Just breathing,
Resting,
Allowing,
Reflecting.
Let's just stay here for a moment.
So,
As this story settles to stay with the feeling it leaves behind,
Notice your body,
Notice your breath,
Notice the places in you that are not trying to be anything.
There is a quiet wisdom in what the world overlooks,
A gentleness,
A depth,
It's a kind of strength that does not demand attention.
The Tao does not rush you,
It does not measure your worth,
It just allows you to take up space exactly as you are.
And you are in this moment.
So,
When you're ready,
Just let your eyes open softly,
Take your time returning and carry this with you.
You do not need to be needed to be worthy,
Like the old tree you belong to.
Simply because you are here and you are you.
Namaste,
My friend.
