Last week I cut back some of the perennial flowers and shrubs in our garden, then wrote about it in this space, using pruning as a metaphor for spiritual growth.  A reminder that periodically the old must be released in order to make space for the new - a sometimes painful, but necessary process...
 
This week I had a chance to extend that metaphor as Zet and I began trimming the larger bushes and small trees in our yard, the ones requiring a ladder and a bit more muscle power. The primary objective of pruning trees is to focus growth on a few of the strongest branches.  Not just clearing away old growth, but also cutting off the new "suckers" (tender new shoots that pop out of the sides of the trunk near the base of the tree) and "water sprouts" (thin branches that grow straight up from the branch) that quickly become long and spindly if left untended.  These thin limbs will never be strong enough to bear flowers or fruit; they just sap energy from the plant by taking up valuable space, water and light - vital resources better directed toward fortifying the major branches.
 
As I wielded my saw and pruning shears, I reflected on the number of "suckers" I tend to accumulate in my life:  the large number of people, places, projects and possibilities lingering at the edges of my perpetual To-Do list, inviting me to spread myself thin and thinner.  Perhaps you do, too.  Living in our high-speed culture of hyper-links and multi-tasking, it's easy to get caught up in the pseudo-sense of urgency emerging from the sheer volume of demands on our time and attention.  To get sucked into a whirlwind of "doing" which leaves few resources for simply "being"  -- much less channeling energy into the "main branches" of your life, your soul, your sense of purpose. 
 
Fortunately, there is an antidote, a way to "prune back the suckers."  To do less and BE more, and still accomplish everything that really needs to get done. Unfortunately, it involves precisely those resources that seem to be in short supply - time and energy. But that's just an illusion, a sort of mass hypnotic trance that we tend to take for granted, as if it were the natural order of things.  We can shake it off by remembering to do those things we truly long to do:  to get focused; to meditate, contemplate and cultivate our inner garden; to slow down long enough to gain access to the unlimited resources available to those who are willing to ask for and receive them.
 
We must each find our own way to strike this balance between doing and not-doing.  For some it involves soul-satisfying activities like yoga, making music, gardening, painting, dancing, woodworking, writing, teaching, or studying.  For others it's a matter of cultivating silence and stillness.  Some require solitude; others prefer the stimulation of family and community.
 
What all these have in common is the need for focus, time, attention and intention.  A willingness to prune away both the old deadwood and the new "suckers" that keep springing up to disperse our energy.   "Sure, it's easier said than done," the trees seem to whisper in the stiff breeze, as I strive to stay balanced on the stepladder.  "Just remember:  you don't have to do it by yourself. There's lots of help available - from Spirit, from your loved ones, from the Celebration Circle, from any number of sources within and around you - but only YOU can make the conscious choice to wield those pruning shears in your life.  To make room for all the goodness that awaits you - or not.  The choice is yours!"  
 
With blessings,