Under a Green Oak Tree

It was spring and the green was neon.  The tree was an oak and under it the two brothers stopped to talk.  Birds were screaming all around them and it was pretty the way the sun  shown through the new leaves on the tree.

“You don’t need to do anything.  You certainly don’t need to get rid of pain.”

“What kind of pain?”

“All pain.  There is no difference.  Pain is pain.  If you have a fever and you think you can’t write you’ll never write.  Life is a fever.  Physical pain goes and is immediately replaced by human pain; suffering, we’ll call it.”

“So, learn to enjoy the pain?”

“Learn to create with the pain.”

“How did you learn?”

“I had a toothache for three years.  I can’t wait three years for life to begin.  I have to create with the pain.  We don’t, in this life, get to enjoy the fruits of our labor; not really.  Once you learn that you’ll start to create right now, even when you can’t be pain free to enjoy what you’ve made.”

“You read that.”

“I had to learn that; am still learning that.  It wasn’t until I fully accepted pain, in all forms, that creativity could begin.  That is the only difference between creators and all of the others.  The others spend a lifetime putting out fires, thinking once all the fires are out I’ll start.  Life is a bonfire fed by the sun.  You can’t, nor should you want to put it out.  Breath in the fire and start.”

A breeze shot in through the trees.  The one asking questions thought about how his practice would begin right there.  He never forgot the breeze that day.  He felt hidden in the shade and moved out under the sun, instead.

 

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