Man and Tree

A man was travelling through the desert, hungry, thirsty, and tired, when he came upon a tree bearing luscious fruit and affording plenty of shade, underneath which ran a spring of water...

Some folks think of people much as we think of cars on a highway: each with its own origin and destination, relating to one other only to negotiate lane changes and left-hand turns. But people are not cars.

Did I grow towards the sun, reaching up higher and higher towards that which I can never grasp, but which nurtures me all the same the more I strive towards it?

There is a story in the Talmud of an old guy who was seen planting a fig tree. The people who observed him asked, "Do you really expect to live long enough to consume the fruits of your labor?"

What does it mean to be indispensable? For most of my life I’ve asked myself that question.

A look at the various parts of the tree -- roots, trunk, branches, leaves, fruit and seeds -- and their corresponding elements within the human being

Seven areas of our lives represented by the "Seven Kinds": our humanity (wheat), passion (barley), joy (grapes), intimacy (figs), action (pomegranates), struggle (olives) and tranquility (dates)

We are trees, living two lives at once... Then there are our roots, deep under the ground, unmoving and serene…

Some grow as wheat of the field, in a single season breaking through the ground and ripening.

Trees don't talk, but they have a great deal to say. And one of the most amazing things a tree says is about survival

For what is man/ But a frame/ Of living wood/ With a bark of flesh/ Whose spent years/ Are carefully recorded/ In the rings of his soul/ To be counted and measured/ When his tree is felled--?

The whole fruit business is a scam

When you come to think of it, a child needs the very same things a tree does in order to grow: "earth," "water," "sun" and "air"

As I say goodbye to my young students and clean up from our fruit party, I begin to think about how Tu B'Shevat relates to us as individuals...

There is something very grounding about trees. They are solid, stationary and easy to hug. And, with roots knotted firmly in the soil and a dense net of branches that dance at its head, a tree can help anchor a lost and disoriented person . . .

It’s tougher now; I have far greater responsibilities and less time for fun. I’ve been shaped, molded, and somewhat scarred by my experiences, and it is much, much harder to change.

Like the seed that decomposes, we too need to let go and lose our old identity, generating freshness and newness in our life experiences...

We humans like to plant trees. But as we tend and care for them, we ought to reflect on what we can learn from them as well.

The black and white pictures I have of them stare back at me asking me not to forget. Keep these pictures precious. This is my face, this is my family, and this is who you come from. We may have physically left the earth but your heritage is part of us. We are your roots...

As I say goodbye to my young students and clean up from our fruit party, I begin to think about how Tu B'Shevat relates to us as individuals...

Family life is a piece of art in of itself. It’s all about taking people, placing them on the same canvas, and making them interact in a way that creates a beautiful combination of personalities. It’s a display of the depth of life, giving a higher meaning and purpose to our existence . . .