like a motherf*c%!ng phoenix!
Some of my favorite forest friends are the nurse logs. They are the dead trees or the remnant stumps of fallen timber, from which the next generation of forest has sprouted. I love the juxtaposition of death and life. How nature wastes not.
In dying, the tree provides shelter. A home for the insects or birds or small mammals that burrow in and around it.
It becomes food for some of those insects, who in turn are hunted and eaten by larger creatures. And the tree itself becomes a nourishing home for smaller plants, who use it's energy to fuel their own growth.
In my new awakening of self and mindfulness, I'm trying to take a lesson from the nurse logs. Although there may be little deaths, decay of past ideas or beliefs, collapse from outside forces that feel catastrophic, life goes on. More than that it flourishes and grows and expands!
As long as I am able to take what is still good from the old, to use it as fuel for the future, to sink my roots deep into the strong parts of what remains, I will rise again stronger than before.