Journey To: The tree that stilled my restless heart.

(2-minute read)

“You are a cynic.” He said this with no malice. He was my best friend and that is exactly what best friends are supposed to be, honest. But the idea that I was a doomsday sourpuss sent me into a spin.

“Ridiculous,” I thought to myself after we parted. Hadn’t I, after wrangling so politely to order my vegetarian pizza on the cauliflower crust , hadn’t I dropped my attitude down a peg or two? Wasn’t I nice and decent and understanding with the clerk who couldn’t seem to hear me above the noise from the kitchen?

And hadn’t I jumped to help a very pregnant woman carry a stack of pizzas (extra large) and several drinks to her car?

Well, yes, I had done something nice. But I ruminated on why was I the only one to see that woman needed help.

I said this to the birds sitting on the cars in the parking lot. “Couldn’t someone have offered to help her?”

And “You are a cynic” came echoing back.

Watched by starlings (a summer storm was in the air).

So I took a walk. Just walked. And I found this tree, with climbable branches that totally riveted me.

Even as the storm clouds approached, the sun was bright. As I gazed up through the leaves, all I could think about was how much a kid would love to climb that big old tree.

Is there anything more refreshing than a “climbable tree”?

As long as I looked at it, I wasn’t a cynic anymore. I wasn’t “an aging woman who would probably kill herself if she fell”. No, I didn’t try, but I wanted to. And wanting, remembering, was an inspiration.

Questions surfaced: What was the right way to approach this “aging body” reality? To be cynical and see only the worst things going on?

Or to be a wise skeptic — realistic, but hopeful of a good outcome? Like a kid tackling a climbable tree.

And what exactly was it that I saw going in the pizza shop? I saw me, noticing that a person might need a little support and helping her out.

Realizing that my own carry-out might be ready, I began to trot back to the restaurant. “Look, I’m trotting,”I thought. Amazing.

Just as I turned the corner, I ran head-long into a waiter carrying my pizza out to me. He had a big smile on his face — he’d seen how I’d left the shop to help the struggling woman.

“Here’s your pizza!”

My good deed was contagious. And I, having been helped to think straight by gazing at a tree for a minute or two, gratefully took the pizza and sincerely smiled back.

Perspective changed. Cynicism defeated.