The Mindfulness of Falling Leaves

This time of year the trees are shedding their leaves.  There are thousands of them from a single tree - I found one reference that a single mature tree could have 200,000 leaves.

Each of them has a journey of a few seconds as it falls.  I have seen a couple of plate sized sycamore leaves float slowly down with almost no other motion.  Other leaves plummet almost as if propelled. But most flutter, twirl or tumble through the air - some with ease and grace - others more fitfully.

I enjoy watching falling leaves as an awareness opportunity - a short meditative moment.  From my point of view, the appearance of a falling leaf is random, unpredictable.  I have to be aware and in the moment enough to notice the falling leaf and immediately put my complete focus on it.   Any distraction is readily apparent.

Even in the space of a few seconds that it takes for the leaf to fall from tree to ground, my busy mind sometimes tries to move away to some other thought or stimulus, and it takes conscious effort to keep my focus on the leaf.

The focus and connection can be strengthened if I catch the falling leave at the beginning of an exhale, and then mindfully follow the leaf and my outflowing breath as if there are a single event, finishing the exhale when the leaf touches the earth.

There's something about a falling leaf that speaks of things in my life.  I am reminded of the inevitability of change, the reality that, just like the leaf, there are times in my life when change will come that I can't control.  I also recognize that every one of these many millions of leaves is unique, and each one has its own journey to take - some will be longer, some shorter - some will be smooth and graceful, some will be chaotic and full of twists and turns.  Some will fall softly through calm air, while others will be buffeted and blown downward by strong winds.  A metaphor for so much of life in just a few seconds of transition as the leaf breaks it's connection with the tree and floats down to connection with the earth.

A few of them I will see and experience in a focused way.  The rest will still fall, but their journeys will remain outside of my consciousness, a reminder that what I truly see is just a tiny part of what is.