Petrified Wood

We are petrified wood. We live our days doing what we think we're supposed to. Much like a tree, we stand in our place, watching time go by. Growing and changing but still we are the same as we were the day we were born.

Moss grows slowly on a tree over many years. Just as our pride follows us into adulthood and becomes a part of us. Moss hurts trees. Pride will hurt us. Pride, like moss smothers our original form. It makes it difficult for others to see how beautiful we've always been. How simple and pure we are.

At Christmas time, we decorate our tree as we do our lives. We make it look pretty and perfect on the outside, all the while we are drying up. These decorations are smothering us. These physical alterations don't become us.

When we find a tree that we don't need, we cut it down. Cut it out of our lives. Much as we do others. People from the same roots as us. People who are growing and changing but remaining the same. We think the tree will get in the way, would be better off cut down. We think we don't need these people. We can remove them from our lives.

You can cut out a few trees. With enough effort, you can even make it look like the trees were never there. You can pretend these people never existed. Other people would never even know. Cut out too many, and it gets harder and harder to cover up what you've done. You will see your circumstances unfold. You will see a barren world before you. A raped and mutilated foundation that started out so perfect.

All trees add benefit to the whole. They give life to others in life and in death. As do all people. Become vibrant and lush. Don't let yourself become cold and hard over the years. Like petrified wood.

Stephanie Brown 2000