I had a whole story with this tree-picking it out, hearing the phrase, “Agree with the promise,” cutting it down, feeling slightly bad but magical, decorating it to a Christmas Pandora station, and then the part happened where I woke up the next morning and the tree fell over, and I couldn’t get it to stand back up.
So I left it there all day. The next night, I sat beside it on the floor thinking “What can I hear from this?”
“It’s not that the tree was too small, it was the ‘stand’ that was too small.”
If I was the tree, maybe my stand has been too small. What am I giving up on. Could I stand more. Or again?
I let the questions walk by silently, and I didn’t stop them. Eventually they left, and I plugged in the lights on the fallen tree.