Learning

I do bonsai. It is a discipline of relationships. The trees I work with become a form of art, art that is never done. The trees need intensive care, care that is not the same from tree to tree. A maple and a spruce need different kinds of attention, water, sun, fertilizer, soil composition, pruning. To treat one like another is to abuse it and to ultimately invite its death.



I read a lot about trees to get to know what they need and so how to relate well with them. Just recently, I discovered I was prejudiced. I found out I was operating on a set of assumptions that had more to do with my ignorance than with the tree. Running into one’s own ignorance is a constant normality when we open ourselves to truth.



It’s easy to slide down that slippery slope. Consistency makes so much sense, even when we pride ourselves in being self aware. But perhaps that is the widest gate toward arrogance. We are so proud of ‘knowing.’ But what do we know? Our knowledge is a structure that makes sense to us. We’ve built it with that sense as a blue print. The universe has little respect for our plans and schemes. Our only hope is to constantly reach beyond our normality, our assumptions, our perspectives. It’s uncomfortable, sometimes sad, often frightening. Once in a while, too rarely we learn. We see clearly our limitations in time to do something about them. Each of those is a victory, a new hope.



Red maples need direct sunlight and a lot of water, every day, sometimes twice a day. So I moved the red maple and started watering it more. I hope it didn’t suffer too much. I hope its happy now, tree happy. I’ll prune it next spring.