July 18 Daily Entry -- My Plant

It looks strong enough this morning. I tend to its roots. I let it bathe in the wetness of nature. I show it all the other plants, just like it, doing the same. "You are normal," I tell it. "Your needs do not exceed those of others. They can and should be met. See to your needs.

I think about where I will direct it to grow today. What is worthwhile in the growing of my plant. Music. See to that. Story and language. See to that. Being heard. See to that.

I tell me little plant not to be discouraged. Growth is slow, and it is still a young plant. I have been watering other people's plants, and only now am I caring for my own.

It will take ten years for you to grow into a tree, but do not be ashamed of the growth that is happening now. This time is necessary. You cannot be a tree without first being a young seedling, stretching and growing for the first time. Fruit doesn't grow until season after season has aged you into maturity.

Don't look at the fruit of others and compare yourself. Only look at the light. Imagine the tree you want to become. A tree of strong roots. A tree that can afford to give. A tree made of music and story and truth and beauty. A tree that us part of a forest, but stands alone, growing toward the light of the sun independently of others.