A lemon-scented eucalyptus stands in the centre of my Melbourne backyard, towering thirty-five metres over the garden, its foliage filling the air with a tangy citrus scent. When spring arrives, the pink bark sheds in curly flakes, scattering across our garden and neighbouring yards. The new creamy bark revealed underneath is a poignant reminder of nature’s cycle, and the ability of all living species to regenerate and transform, at varying degrees, as part of their natural maintenance.
The transformation of eucalyptus trees over the seasons is a marvellous sight. So, too, are the abilities of small creatures such as geckos, starfish, salamanders and other species to regrow tails, limbs and organs. Equally amazing is the ability of more complex creatures, including humans, to regenerate and physically renew themselves.
As a new year begins, my thoughts turn to renewal. I think of ways in which I can re-energise and prepare for a busy year ahead. I focus on building a positive routine that centres on quality time with loved ones, nurturing my body and soul, and working more efficiently. I pinpoint activities that bring joy and laughter, while weeding out time-wasters and processes that sap energy and happiness.
I recall an intriguing novel I read years ago – Life After Life by English novelist Kate Atkinson – in which the story loops back repeatedly, showing alternative lives for the protagonist Ursula Todd, from the time of her birth in 1910 and various incarnations of her life until the 1960s.
Ursula declares: ‘What if we had a chance to do it again and again, until we finally did get it right? Wouldn’t that be wonderful?’
That doesn’t sound so wonderful to me. I’d rather live one life and do it well. I’m satisfied knowing that I only get one chance at the life I’ve been gifted, and that I can’t relive it again and again. That said, I still enjoyed reading about Ursula’s various lives, and wondering what lay around the corner for the next rendition of her existence. But I wouldn’t want to be like Ursula.
Near the window that looks out on the lemon-scented eucalyptus, I have a corkboard on the wall filled with favourite postcards, mementoes, cards from friends and family, and memorable quotes. During this coming year, whenever I feel in need of an extra boost of encouragement, I will focus on a quote by former First Lady Eleanor Roosevelt, who said: ‘With the new day comes new strength and new thoughts.’ And I’ll breathe deeply of the lemon-scented gum leaves to ground myself in the real world, and focus on the present and future.
Thank you for reading my Musings. I wish you health, happiness and peace in this coming year.