When I Grow, I Want to Be a Tree!
My mind is always chasing the next thing. Even when life is steady, thoughts of future projects and possible careers hum in the background like electricity. It isn’t ambition as much as motion, a constant tug toward what’s next. But what I really crave isn’t another plan. It’s the opposite. I want to grow into the stillness of a tree.
Why a Tree
Trees live a life I admire more than any title I could hold. Hey, stand where they are, yet they change every day. They grow without rushing, adding quiet rings of strength that no one notices until years have passed. Their beauty isn’t polished or curated; it comes from age, weather, and patience.
A tree doesn’t compete.
It doesn’t explain itself.
“A tree is simply, rooted, present, accepting each season as it comes.”
That’s the mindset I long for:
to stay grounded while life moves,
to stop measuring myself by speed or comparison,
to let growth happen slowly and invisibly until, one day, it’s undeniable.
The Life I’m Reaching For
I don’t want to escape the human world; I want to inhabit it differently.
Like a tree, I want to:
Root deeply in the relationships and places that matter.
Bend without breaking when storms arrive.
Follow my seasons—work, rest, renewal—without guilt.
Give quietly: shade, shelter, kindness, without asking for recognition.
To be a tree is to trade constantly striving for steady becoming. It’s choosing presence over prediction, and depth over endless motion. I may never live as long or stretch as tall as a tree, but I can grow like one: unordered, patient, quietly, beautiful, and trusting that each year, each ring, is enough.
