Leaf Questions

There is a high window in the yoga studio where I do much of my practice these days. The view out the glass from the floor of the studio shows mostly sky, framed along one edge by the upper branches of a stand of birch trees.

I am a creature of habit, so I often end up on the same section of floor, on the left side as you walk into the studio, in the middle row. From this spot, as I stretch and bend and breathe, I have enjoyed watching the trees as their leaves changed from summer green, to the bright yellow of fall, then to the almost bare gray branches of winter.

At some point this winter, I noticed there was one leaf still hanging in one of the trees. I began to look for it during each class, admiring its tenacity in hanging on, wondering when it would finally let go. It has clung to its branch through the rain and the snow, and is still there this week, even as the tree has begun to loosen its buds, welcoming the rapidly approaching spring.

Last week, I decided that stubborn leaf is holding a life metaphor / meditation for me. Two of them, actually.

The first is from the viewpoint of the tree: Is there something in my life I am clinging to past its time? A something that served me well in the past, but as I have moved on, no longer serves? What will happen if I finally let go of that something, to make way for new growth?

The second is from the viewpoint of the leaf: Am I holding on to the familiar because I am afraid to face the unknown that awaits when I let it go? When I look within, am I still clinging to a way of thinking that once provided life and growth, but now simply holds me back from whatever comes next? What will happen when I finally gather my courage, loosen my grip, and move on?

I don't yet have any answers. But I like the questions.