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Walking in The Forest

The young man couldn’t hear the voice of his old friend calling through the trees. It took a lot of calling and listening before they met in a glade near a pool of clear water and sat together on a log at the waters’ edge.

“There are many obstacles on your path my young friend. So many that you are unable to see the wood for the trees.”

The younger man laughed. “That’s a familiar saying.”

“Yes, and it describes your current predicament perfectly.”

“I wasn’t aware that I have any predicaments.”

“If there are belongings in your life stopping you from moving forward; you have predicaments. The trees are symbolic of the things you have allowed to get in the way. Deal with them and cut down the trees.”

“That sounds so simple. How can I throw things away that prey on my mind?”

“Are those things current and of value?”

“There is one thing from the past that returns and haunts me.”

“Does it relate to current events?”

“No, not that I can see. But when it happened, it aroused painful feelings and challenged my beliefs.”

“Did you have any power to change this event or alter the outcome?”

“No, because it related to a decision and action by somebody else. I would not have done the same.”

He looked at his image in the pools mirror and from the corner of his left eye, noticed a small waterfall softly tumbling between age worn rocks. Ripples rolled slowly across, distorting his image.

“Let’s say you had the power to alter that event. How would life be now if you had?”

“My path would have taken a very different route.”

“Imagine you are tumbling in the waterfall over there. If I move a rock your course will alter but you will still end up in the pool. If you manage a handhold, you will tire eventually, and the result will be the same.

I changed the course of the water. There was nothing you could do about it. You ended up in the pool.

So, finally, would it not be appropriate to take what you learned from that event, leave what you don’t need and, cut down the tree?”

The image of the young man cleared between ripples, he looked across at his old friend.

“I don’t like that you are right but, you are. That tree is on the log-pile.”

The friends smiled at one another before going their separate ways.

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