Rising Out of The Ashes

My niece and kids and I worked this weekend to transplant a few of my house plants that have far outgrown their pots. One tree--a nice fig tree I've had for many years--was so overgrown in its pot that there was little soil left and the roots were gnarled and bulging out of the pot. When we went to transfer it, we found that the roots were so tight in my ceramic pot (which I did not want to break) that we had to coax, and sift, and gentle at great length until we finally relieved it from its overly tight place. At various intervals I pulled with all my force at the roots of the tree to extricate it, but it would not budge.

I wanted to force the tree out. I wanted it to be easy. I wanted the tree to be insensitive and easy going, but, alas, the tree was sensitive and quite attached to what had become its home. So we finally got the tree out and moved it into a very large pot full of fresh soil with lots of room. Now instead of waning as it has been for some time, the fig tree will flourish and grow taller than I and have full green leaves. The tree is happy now.

I liken myself to that tree, as I have been deeply rooted in my old life and have far outgrown it, but I have had some serious difficulty accepting the change that I have realized for some time now is inevitable. As the fig tree is transplanted and given the space and soil for it to grow, so am I.