“I’m a tree.”
“I don’t understand.”
“I’m rooted in this one spot. I haven’t moved and haven’t done anything. Things just happen to me, man. I’ve just learned to embrace it.”
“And you lost me. …You never had me. What are we talking about right now?”
“It’s a metaphor.”
“No shit. I don’t understand what you’re talking about.”
I sigh. I’ve never been good at…well, at talking, really, but especially about, you know…feelings. “I’ve lived my life pretty well, I think. I do well in school, I’m friendly, polite, whatever. Maybe kind of quiet, but I’ve tried. Put myself out there. Went out on a limb, even. Too much? Sorry, I’ll cut it out with the tree metaphors. As much as I could, anyway. But…you know…in the end I’ve discovered that things don’t really work out for me when I’m really trying really hard and sweating all the small stuff. I’m a tree. Things work out best when I just let it happen. I’ve quit trying. I quit trying a little while ago and it’s the best thing that’s happened to me. I’m less concerned about—about all of it, really. About what people think when I do things or anything. I guess I’m putting things on my terms more than I did when I was actively trying to put them on my terms?”
Joe drinks his beer. Takes what I say in. For a moment he looks like has something to say. I look out toward the distance. We’re on the corner not far from his house. The sun’s out. It’s a warm day. A good day.
“That—that doesn’t sound positive,” he says. It’s my turn to take a drink.
“Well, I mean, no, I guess it doesn’t. Eventually, though, I guess—I guess I just got tired. You know? Stressing out about everything wasn’t working out for me, either. Overthinking. Not that I’m not still overthinking everything, but, a little bit less. I’m just doing what comes natural. What makes me happy. So sick of trying to play games and dance around what other people do.”
Joe raises his bottle. “Fuck it.” I turn my head incredulously. “You’re right. We waste so much time worrying about what everybody thinks we’re supposed to be doing. Or what we think we’re supposed to be doing. Go with the flow. Do what makes you happy. That’s what it’s all about. Don’t let opportunity pass you by, but, don’t try to do stuff just because you think you’re supposed to.”
Midsip, I raise my fingers in an excited agreement. Swallow, lower the bottle. “Exactly.”
I am a tree.
I repeat it to myself in my mind over and over.
Maybe eventually I’ll actually believe it.
