Just as a peach begins as a hard, bitter fruit fastened tightly to the branch from which it hangs, so one’s sense of self takes shape in childhood and, if all goes well, matures as the years pass, growing firm and confident, holding tightly to the patterns of behavior and belief that nurture its inherent authority. 

But when one commits to a long-term monogamous relationship, or to parenting, or to spiritual practice, like the peach slowly ripening in the warm sun, this same sense of self gradually softens.  Bit by bit the mind relaxes its grip on everything that formally provided it with the illusion of security until finally one day it simply lets go of the branch and falls.

Someone wrote this.  I don’t know who.  I’m just glad it was written.

***

I know about being hard and unyielding

I know about being soft in the mouth and cool to the touch

I know something of the letting go and the falling through air

But I don’t know the big one

Taking my last breath

The sweetness on the tongue

The waving goodbye

Done