This is my neighbour's big, beautiful mango tree at sunset. A sight that makes me grateful for island living every time I see it.
A few months ago, another neighbour got upset because leaves from the mango tree fell into her backyard. They fell into my yard too but so did mangos so I was all good.
WHO complains about free mangoes?
Anyway, to appease the leaf and mango hater, the tree was trimmed, horribly.
Branches were hacked off haphazardly, leaves were strewn everywhere. Only a skeleton of this great tree was left.
I watched it.
It was tantamount to murder.
Then there was a drought. And the tree continued to suffer. I was sure that it would never bear fruit again.
Life went on. I didn't give the tree a lot of thought until I got home one evening and looked up to see that it had started to blossom.
AND. IT. WAS. GLORIOUS.
I could tell that the tree would be 10 times as magnificent as it was before.
The moral of this story? (Come on, you had to know it was coming.)
Bad things, tough times, stress what ever you call it, they will happen.
To quote Forrest Gump: "Shit happens".
You can hide under a rock and pine for what you have lost. Bury yourself in self-pity. Act the victim and cry out for the sorrow the universe has imparted on you and you alone.
You could be like this mango tree: ride that wave of unfortunate events and emerge from it victoriously; BIGGER and BETTER than you've ever been before.
Stop and really think about this.
I'm off to have a mango.
STILL I RISE You may shoot me with your words, You may cut me with your eyes, You may kill me with your hatefulness, But still, like air, I’ll rise. Does my sexiness upset you? Does it come as a surprise That I dance like I’ve got diamonds At the meeting of my thighs? Out of the huts of history’s shame I rise Up from a past that’s rooted in pain I rise I’m a black ocean, leaping and wide, Welling and swelling I bear in the tide. Leaving behind nights of terror and fear I rise Into a daybreak that’s wondrously clear I rise Bringing the gifts that my ancestors gave, I am the dream and the hope of the slave. I rise I rise I rise. MAYA ANGELOU