Left Tree or Right Tree?

I have been parking in this lot since August 2011. Today, I noticed something different. (So much for being present, but it's usually 7:25am - do give me some credit as a non-morning person.) I walked into work this morning and these trees caught my attention. The fact that one tree was split into two parts, half blooming with summertime leaves and half lifeless. Same tree - two different perspectives on the world. This tree, half and half in the tree world is standing right next to a tree that seems to have only one single part, all put together nicely, and blooming fully, just hanging out. Being a perfect little tree. (Bob Ross Voice).

All day long I thought of these trees. Right tree - as you would expect, all together nice and perfectly bloomed, a beautiful tree, lovely, engrossed in the fullness of summertime, and basically one thing - full. Left tree seeming to have become almost two trees at one point. Two ideas, two parts, two halves.... half there, half empty, half missing, half animated, and half spiritless. And yet, the tree stands equally as tall and strong. I thought the perfect tree was there almost smugly, mocking me, showing off, but it was an uncaffeinated 7:30am so I wasn't judging.

What did the tree on the left do to deserve being struck like that? Why did Earth decide to scar this tree? How strong of a root did this tree have to remain upright and blooming even though half was gone? How did the tree on the right remain so perfect and untouched by storms? Is the tree on the right hiding something to the open eye? What right did that tree have to be so smug standing there?

"Which tree would you be?" the psyche asked.

"I'm the tree on the left," I answered.

I feel halved. Half here, half moved away. Half engrossed with one idea, half passing off another idea to history. Half holding onto something, half letting it go. Half thinking one thing, half thinking another. Constantly split. Tormented and torn. Half of my thoughts missing, half here.

If one half of that left tree goes away, could the other half stand on its own? Is that me if I let go and stop feeling so split? I will tell you this though - if I didn't have the base I have, I'd have fallen down long ago.

I'm in awe of the right tree standing there doing tree type things in the tree world being a perfect tree. Perfectly put together and glowing in the sunlight. The tree-iest type tree in the parking lot.... but it's not me. I'll never be that type of tree on the outside. I'll always be a little split. I wouldn't be me if I wasn't. I'll always have a little bit of something going on. Standing right next to the perfect trees and their perfectness.

I could stand in a line of perfect people, people I see as perfect in a variety of ways, and still feel halved. Split. Like a part of me has been taken and stilled in a wintertime that will not end, immune to any change of seasons. Try as I might, I just cannot stop thinking of myself as a part of me different than every other tree. Are all those perfect trees we see split in places we cannot understand? What is it with these perfect trees?

I have no idea where I'm going with this, and it's late, but I'm still thinking about these trees tonight and I do know where I'm going with my halves versus the perfect trees. I'm taking my tree pieces and moving ahead. Each side of my tree is who I am. I cannot stand without all the myselves from days past standing right next to me and the roots holding me together. All the me of my history standing and supporting the me of right now, with one immense set of roots.

When I think back, I feel I've been halved. When I think ahead I don't feel halves anymore. I don't know what I see, but I don't feel split.

What are you doing that keeps you whole? Would you trade the word "whole" for "happy"? Are you filled with good things or are you also split?

I happened upon the statement : "I'm not looking for my other half because I'm not a half." Well, guess what. I'm a halved whole all my own, but I'm still blooming and taking in that sunshine. I'm grateful for you hanging out here on my journey and humbled you've tried to make any sense out of this tree obsession I apparently have today.

Thanks for being in the forest with me.

Slainte.