A little over twenty years ago, we purchased an old house on the lake in a small village in Maine. Approximately sixteen years later, a tree that we had completely neglected and barely noticed began producing apples. Today, apples that I’ll make applesauce with this afternoon completely cover my kitchen table. The apples are ‘ugly.’ Bruised and covered in blemishes, they could never be sold in a store, and yet they are delicious. They are a precious reminder to me of grace – gifts neither asked for nor cultivated. Each afternoon for the past few weeks, I’ve collected the fruit of this tree with an incredible sense of gratitude, and I gently place a hand on the trunk of this, my very own ‘giving’ tree, one which had lived beside me for so many years unnoticed and uncelebrated, and I thank it. It occurred to me after reading the Hindu parable about “Atithi Devo Bhava,” that we are far less the owners of the land upon which she is rooted as we are the tree’s guests, and she has gifted us generously. I now recognize the divine that dwells within her, and I bow in her presence.
Spirituality, Therapy, and the Good Life 