The landscape of your life gets shuffled and reshuffled. You are scared, but then in awe. So many people and events wending back in and out. Like being pushed over and over by the wind. All the leaves land each time in a different place, and in different positions with respect to each other.

You think that it’s all about you—that everyone is watching but then you see how much more marvelous life is with all of the players, the spiral dance of leaves in the wind, the kaleidoscopic beauty. The many colors, the utter wonder of the play of light through leaves.

You think you must have a place in it all. You worry about which direction to go.

Maybe a leaf doesn't have much control over direction. What happens if you let go of being a leaf?