Delectable
I love the image of low hanging fruit. It is luscious to think of pickable pears, appealing apples, scintillating citrus, all within reach. I recall picking plums in Italy: my mouth waters at the thought of those ripe yellow flavour packed plums. That tree was planted for me. That is how I treated the fruit of its labour: I ate with abandon. The tree dripped its prize and I drank deeply
I love the image of low hanging fruit. It is luscious to think of pickable pears, appealing apples, scintillating citrus, all within reach. I recall picking plums in Italy: my mouth waters at the thought of those ripe yellow flavour packed plums. That tree was planted for me. That is how I treated the fruit of its labour: I ate with abandon. The tree dripped its prize and I drank deeply
Personifying fruit
I think of the health of a tree. How a healthy tree, will produce healthy and abundant fruit. A sick tree simply cannot do this, and the resultant fruit can grow, but in a distorted and abnormal fashion, a semblance of itself: something short of what it could be, but somehow not looking like its fully potentialize(d) fruit brothers and sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts, and ultimately, its great great grandparents. Of course, we, you and I, both know that I am personifying fruit, dear reader: I am not the first to do this, I follow in mighty leader footsteps.
I think of the health of a tree. How a healthy tree, will produce healthy and abundant fruit. A sick tree simply cannot do this, and the resultant fruit can grow, but in a distorted and abnormal fashion, a semblance of itself: something short of what it could be, but somehow not looking like its fully potentialize(d) fruit brothers and sisters, cousins, uncles and aunts, and ultimately, its great great grandparents. Of course, we, you and I, both know that I am personifying fruit, dear reader: I am not the first to do this, I follow in mighty leader footsteps.
For a good tree bringeth not forth corrupt fruit; neither doth a corrupt tree bring forth good fruit. For every tree is known his own fruit. For of thorns men do not gather figs, nor of a bramble bush gather they grapes (Luke 6:43-44)
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| Rotten or edible? |
This theme of low hanging fruit came to me as I thought about unresolved issues, the kinds we all have as individuals. These unaddressed soul wounds, are a lot like heavy hanging rotten fruit, over ripe and no longer palatable, let alone nutritiously fulfilling.
Can you see this too, dear reader, people sagging with the weight of a past, their own or that of a fellow fruit, I mean relative, rotting them from the inside out? I don't know about you, but I will be damned, yes, this devoted Christian woman referenced damning, if I ever become the type of person that does not process my pain, so that I never become rotten
A good man out of the good treasure of his heart bringeth forth that which is good; and an evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth forth evil: for of the abundance of the heart his mouth speaketh (Luke 6:45)
Look at your heart
So here is the challenge and the work:
So here is the challenge and the work:
- You look at your heart, right here, right now, and ask yourself, what is in there? Once you have done this, ask yourself:
- What comes from my mouth?
- Is what comes from me alive and affirming, or is it rotten and unworthy of consumption?
If what you say edifies another, gives them hope and reason to keep going, living, loving, trying, then you are a tree of life to others dear one. Dare I say what you are to others when the opposite is true? Must I fill in the blanks here?
Unresolved family tree issues, problems, habits, rituals, modes of being that are unhealthy, unsavoury, repulsive, and death inducing, must be addressed, so that the fruit of your labour can produce life affirming deliciousness, that all can see and experience in your loving presence.
We cannot hide
We are known dear one. We cannot hide from the many eyes that follow us to and fro. We each get to decide: every day, in every way.
We are known dear one. We cannot hide from the many eyes that follow us to and fro. We each get to decide: every day, in every way.
Are you yummy, or just plain old rotten?
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