| Mark Nepo, in Seven Thousand Ways to Listen, writes of trees in the forest that begin their lives reaching for the light. They stretch upward, competing for every ray that filters through the canopy, until one day, they are simply standing in the light. No longer reaching, just being. As I age, I feel this shift within me: a quieting of the constant reaching and a growing inclination to simply be. The younger version of me seemed endlessly compelled to chase after light—seeking answers, striving for transformation, yearning for more. But now, I find myself drawn to something different. Standing in my own light. It feels less like effort and more like ease. Less like striving to be more and more like leaning into myself, trusting that who I am is enough, that the knowing I carry is already here. There’s a softness in this—a grace. And while there are still moments of reaching (because, let’s be honest, the world is loud and life calls us to action), the deeper part of me feels content to stand still and rooted in what I’ve already cultivated. There’s a richness in aging, isn’t there? A peeling back of the unnecessary. A clarity that comes when we stop asking, What do I need to add to become whole? and instead wonder, What can I let go of to simply stand in my wholeness? As I embrace this season of being, I wonder: What would happen if we all stood a little longer in the light? What would we see, feel, or know that’s already here, waiting for us? What feels like truth to you in this moment? |
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