What if we lived as plants, at ease with the changes that come with every season? We would bend and flex to our environment, drinking in the rains and strengthening our bones for drought. We would let our leaves grow thick and heavy, extorting life and fruit for no reason other than to exhale beauty and joy. And then we would let it all fall—we wouldn’t even care—exposing our bare souls and truest selves to the most dangerous cold. Even on the darkest nights, when the world would feel at its end and frozen in time for eternity, our hearts would hold their beat. We would be at peace with the winter stars.
And the sun would eventually show its face; we would know this all along. Life and time, it comes and goes, we flourish through it all.